moonrazeeclipse

[moonrazeeclipse]

Tell your friends (Ive Yujin & Wonyoung)

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Thank you @capslocked for the input/advice <3

—————

“What do you think?” asks Yujin, casually, as you’re both walking up the long, winding stairs. A scenario you’re familiar with, but this is completely different from before.

“Of this place?” Your eyes wander around, scope out the surroundings like you’re evaluating real estate. “Eh, it’s fine—I mean, I’ve already been to your place and it’s really nice.”

“First time I’ve heard anyone call this place just fine.” Completely surprised at your reply, her eyes go wide, along with her jaw, as if you’ve said something taboo. “This place is no joke, it makes mine look like an average joe—just like you!”

“Hey.” Offended by her personal taunt, you counter, “At least I’m content with what I have instead of pouring needless amounts of money for this narcissistic shit.” 

She simply laughs off your retort. You’re not even trying. Part of the game is you actually playing along. “Gotta keep the image up, after all.”

“What image? That you’re slutting out every night for a ‘random nobody’ off the street?”

“If I wanted a random nobody off the street, I could have at least gotten someone with a bigger cock,” says Yujin, trying to get under your skin. This kind of banter should render you poisoned with all the toxicity, but you’re almost numb to it at this point. Her words hit hard, because she’s speaking the truth. Anyone else could be in your position right now, and you’re luckier than 99.9% of the people on this planet, because she’s still An Yujin—variety queen, fashion icon, and pop star—after all. “Or maybe someone who’s willing to rip through my clothes when I tell them to—”

“Yeah, I get it. You get new clothes that you’ll use for a week, only to stash them away in the storage.” Might as well put on those imaginary headphones to drown out the noise, but you’ve heard it so many times, your ears simply block out her voice. “You’re rich and famous; I’m a nobody. We get it.”

She shoots you a devilish smirk, complemented by a wink before going ahead. Her flawless body and model strut serve as the perfect hall pass; you're willing to give every excuse and exemption just to be with her in bed when it’s all said and done.

The huge front doors swing open automatically. The living room alone dwarfs your entire house and makes Yujin’s look miniature in comparison. Collective chatter fills the atmosphere as guests convene everywhere. Not a single space remains unoccupied with at least two people engaged in conversation over drinks. 

Like the visitors at your girlfriend’s party, you have no idea who these people are or what their intentions are. Some of them turn their heads, stare at your direction and greet you hello. They’re not actually meant for you, but for the woman right beside you. To your dismay, she remembers how awkward you are at large gatherings and takes advantage of it. Bumping shoulders, she encourages you to wave back at them. Not the name you want to make for yourself.

So you sneak away from her and escape into the crowd. Passing through different rooms, you eventually run into a familiar face in the entertainment room. The person turns around, meets your gaze in dramatic fashion, and her excitement immediately rises to dangerous levels. 

“Hey! Oh! Were you invited too?” asks the girl, enthusiastically, running toward you.

You vividly recognize her cute face—and her Japanese accent. She was the girl who almost uncovered you twice in a single night.

“Oh God—” You grumble, bothered, silently praying your whisper drowns in the sea of loud gossip. “Oh—hi, Rei.”

“You must really be someone special to be invited to Mistress Jang’s party.” Rei suddenly pulls you by the shoulder to whisper something secretive in your ear, closing any opportunity to escape. “You know this is a blue card invitation, right? Only those deep in her social circle can come here, and her private circle is really, really small. Just so you know, there’s an industry rumor going around that the son of a government official offered millions in a bid to woo her, and she turned him down.”

“O-oh, that’s—cool.” 

Respectfully, what you wanted to say was that you had no interest in the so-called Mistress Jang, or the corrupt children of the officials running the nation with puppet strings. You were only there at Yujin’s insistence, and nothing else. “Surely he must be fuming that Jang—”

“Shhhh.” Rei puts a finger between your lips to quiet you down. She briefly looks left and right, scanning everything and everyone around you. “We call her Mistress Jang, Miss Jang, or Miss Vicky Jang. The title is very important here.”

“What?” For a moment, you thought you had stepped inside the palace of some ancient dynasty, the way titles are held in high regard. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know, huh? Are you living under a rock? Miss Jang is one of the biggest names in the country! She’s Korea’s it girl and national princess. Gosh, every brand she wears—and touches—becomes instant sell outs. She’s like a god even among celebrities!” Rei turns around, scouts the place a second time, as if she isn’t already screaming. Surely, this has to be hyperbole because you’ve never heard anyone with a description this grand, only in children’s role play. “She’s practically royalty, even if she doesn’t have a title.”

“Oookay.” Your lack of interest shows through your dry tone. “Yeah, well Yujin invited me here so—”

“Well, that makes perfect sense. I was thinking you were some kind of celebrity or photographer, but now I also know you’re Yujin’s boyfriend. So, the guy hidden in some of her Instagram photos was you.”

“Right.” Shake your head, slowly drawing away from her and this conversation before you become the center of discussion and treated like an actual celebrity. “So, yeah, it was nice seeing you again—”

“Can I ask you one question?” Her narrow eyes and pouty lips are practically pleading to you. Might as well amuse her just this once. Maybe she’ll finally leave you alone. “Please?”

“Fine, what is it?”

“What kind of person is she in bed?” The question elicits an animated reaction on your face—the kind that gets passed around on the internet as a meme. “I bet she gives really good head—”

“There you are!” Yujin suddenly shouts, interrupting right before it becomes extremely awkward. “Hey Rei! What have you been talking about?”

“Yujin!” The Japanese girl abruptly releases you, meeting her in embrace and exchanging friendly kisses. “Not much, just catching up with your guy about some—” she suddenly pauses, making up an excuse on the fly. “—stuff. Anyway, did you know he doesn’t know who Miss Jang is?”

“I was about to take him to her, actually.” 

“Oh no—” You impulsively blurt, losing control over your volume at that moment. 

Forget that they’re right in front of you. Forget that you value your own life over some pussy you can get any other time you want.

Surely Miss Jang would be the kind of person who immediately comes for the life of the offending party when the smallest rumor or slander reaches her ears—how much more at an occasion with some of her most esteemed guests, making you an example of what not to do to cross her.

Fortunately, the two friends then turn their eyes toward you, seemingly unaware of your dismayed reaction. Yujin takes you by the hand, but her soft touch doesn’t relax you in the slightest. “I’ll take him to her now. See ya!”

“Of course, have a great night, you two.”

There’s no light at the end of this tunnel; it’s more of a series of unfortunate events connected from one to another. You’d rather take the option of sharing the freakiest, lewdest secrets of your sex life with Rei over meeting this Mistress Jang face-to-face. You had no say in the matter, not when you’re Yujin’s partner and she’s just as highly esteemed of a name, if not greater, as everyone else in the room.

After a flight of stairs, she scans the second floor, where more people are drinking and chatting it up, before heading in. With you in-tow, you head toward the center hallway together. Seemingly uncaring of your hand getting crushed by her grip, she weaves around dashing from one side to the other until she suddenly stops. Her eyes light up when she sees several suited men assembled in a circle surrounding something—or someone. 

“She’s over there. Give her a minute,” she says, observing them without giving a moment to consider your squished hand—or you for that matter.

“Understood, Miss Jang,” says the oldest man at the center, nodding. The suited men disperse in different directions like a trained, coordinated army unit. A young girl emerges from the assembly with a cold, steely expression in her eyes and her features. 

You expected Miss Jang to be of intimidating, imposing stature, like she could snap you in half like a twig, when really, you’re more likely to toss her around instead. At first glance, everything about her appearance makes her akin to a doll. Pearly white skin, soft, silky lips, and a lightweight figure—everything about her seems curated and designed for maximum appeal to the unrealistic standards of the public. It wouldn’t surprise you if she was actually a life sized model in disguise, with metals and electrical wirings operating the body underneath several layers of unnatural beauty.

Your assumption seemingly comes to pass when she turns her head in a rather mechanical motion, then the blank look on her face shifts to a fixed little beam, hiding any sort of emotion behind them. “Yujin.” Her voice comes out near silent but honeyed, eyes curling into a smile as she recognizes your girl.

“Wony!” She lets go of your hand to hug and give her a kiss on the cheek, treating her like every other acquaintance or friend of hers.

“So, a boyfriend huh? Congratulations,” the other woman replies, reciprocating her friend’s gesture with a kiss on the other cheek. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. He’s kind of a bum, but he’s all right.” Even around friends, Yujin couldn’t help but make the gap between you and her obvious. You’re properly dressed for the occasion (disregarding the fact she bought and tailored it for you), but otherwise, you’re a fish out of water. 

“Come here.” Mistress Jang shoots you a cold stare. Frightened, you immediately follow. Releasing herself from Yujin’s hug, she extends her hand out for you to shake. “You must be Yujin’s boyfriend. Welcome.”

“Um,” You try to think of something—anything—respectful to reply to her with, but ultimately come up with nothing. Sure, she’s not the dangerous boss or demanding overlord you envisioned, but she’s still the most important person in the entire mansion, with emergency protocols practically marked all over her. “Thanks.”

“Please, make yourself at home.” Her eyes lock onto yours, curls into a friendly smile, inviting you to act comfortably in her presence. “I know it’s your first time here, so enjoy.”

“Thanks,” you reply twice in quick succession because it’s the only word you can think of. Other words aren't necessary when it’s the safest option available. 

Patting you on the shoulder, then giving it a playful squeeze, she reassures you again, “I know you’re nervous because of the whole Mistress Jang thing, but please, I don’t bite. I would never.” 

A little teasing smirk and wink from her makes Yujin giggle. The two women rub foreheads, share a brief stare into each other’s eyes, reveling in their strong bond. “Please just call me Wonyoung.”

“Um, okay. Thanks for the welcome, Wony,” you say, looking over your shoulder, trying to escape those magnetic eyes of hers, but they ultimately draw you back in. No one else in the room other than you three. “You two know each other, Yujin?”

“Of course!” The energy Yujin answers you with is infectious. Your girlfriend plants a kiss on her cheek, hooking her arms around her shoulders. If you weren’t around as a third wheel, they’d make for a perfect pair. If she had her way, she would talk about her all day long. “We’ve been friends for a long, long time. Then she got bigger and richer than me and—”

“No need to compare,” interrupts Wonyoung, facing her with a wider grin. “Let’s not make our guests here jealous.”

A hearty laugh from the two follows, and you can’t do anything but smile. You don’t really find their jokes funny, but at the very least, their tight friendship warms your heart. The way their eyes glimmer when they meet, how rosy their cheeks burn, and how close their lips are from making contact—they love each other dearly and intimately it’s almost invasive that you’re awkwardly watching them, as if you didn’t exist in that moment.

You have places to be and other things to do. Inelegant as it sounds, you’re forced to interject, respectfully. “I think I should be on my way now.”

Wonyoung turns her gaze back at you. “Oh, right. Almost forgot you’re there,” she replies, almost bursting into a giggle at the end of her sentence. “The main event will begin soon. Go and have fun in the meantime.”

“Yeah. Go and have fun,” Yujin repeats, almost taunting. It’s almost second nature for her to tease you. The twosome turn around and walk away, hands still clingy like they can’t live without the other, and their collective laughter echoes all over the room as they leave you alone.

—————

You promised yourself not to stir up a commotion during the party, knowing that anything you do has a high probability to snowball out of control very fast. Only one drink will suffice. It’s not like you’re deeply hurting at all, unlike in the past. 

You’re sifting through framed photos throughout the house, mostly of Wonyoung’s silver spoon childhood, but one picture sticks out from the rest—one with her and Yujin that was certainly taken recently. It becomes even more apparent that she’s most likely her only friend, considering she’s the only one present in the photos who isn’t connected by family or bloodline.

“Yo!” A shout breaks your introspection. Turn your head and Rei’s fastly approaching you. This time, you don’t even try to hide your annoyed expressions. “Enjoying the place? Have you met Mistress Jang yet? What was she like?”

Remaining silent, you feign ignorance, looking the other way, back to the photos. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work.

She’s standing right beside you, smiling mischievously. It's almost trollish, almost pervasive, and downright annoying. You wonder how anyone puts up with her, and how she even gets invited to these gatherings. “Did you see her and Yujin holding hands? They look so cute together! I bet they would make an amazing couple, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows, partially in agreement, but mostly to entertain her, if it means she eventually leaves you alone. 

“You know, you’re such a weird guy for being Yujin’s supposed ���boyfriend’,” she continues, pushing her face close to yours, lips pouting and shooting you mischievous, playful looks. “I mean, I don’t get why she’d want someone like you, unless you’ve got something big down there—”

At this point, you’d rather cut your ears off than listen to another minute—no, five seconds—of her grating prattling. 

When you walk away from her, she takes a hold of your hand, causing you to look over your shoulder, furious. Glaring at her, you snap. “Back off.”

“I’m not backing off until you answer me!” Rei’s shouting, trying to make a scene out of this heated exchange. “Serious, I’ve been nice to you the whole time, yet you don’t even look at me with equal respect!”

“What does that have to do with respect? You’re being annoying as fuck!” You don’t mince your words. “I mean, why does it matter to you that I’m fucking Yujin every night?”

She staggers back, eyes wide in shock, jaw slack, and the hand that seized you covers her mouth. It’s the answer she wants, yet it sounds unbelievable. It also draws the attention of everyone nearby, some approaching to see what kind of commotion is happening. There might as well be a huge spotlight shone on you both. You’re the main characters now.

One glance and it rips you from the immersion of the moment. Dozens of eyes focused on you and your co-star, eagerly anticipating what happens after the cliffhanger. The break is long and awkward; nothing exciting happens while you both freeze in place, like the script hasn’t been completed yet. In your mind, you’re hoping someone slaps some sense into you—or wakes you up from this elaborate dream. 

“We’re just talking here, not much is happening!” Somehow, you’re able to break character to break the tension. It doesn’t seem to work initially. The onlookers remain observant of the situation, unconvinced, until one person leaves, followed by another, and more disperse, until you’re completely irrelevant in their eyes once more. Even more amazing is how not a single butler stepped in to intervene during the sudden uproar.

Deafening silence follows as you’re both left alone to contend within yourselves without outside interference. One look at Rei and you find her still motionless, like every part of her malfunctioned. Perhaps it’s the bluntness in how you’ve admitted a lewd secret to her or the way you snapped against her that caught her by surprise. You’re not entirely responsible though. She should have known what she was getting into by poking the bear.

Still, you’re a nice guy, and it’s still a heat of the moment action you’ll definitely regret in the morning. “Um, look, I’m sorry, but yeah—”

“Gosh.” Rei suddenly blurts, eyes still wide, staring at you without a single blink that it’s a little unsettling. You expected her to finally calm down after such a quiet, low answer, but instead, she follows with, “I wonder how well she takes your cock—I mean—how well does she give head?”

“Is this how you talk to friends and acquaintances, Rei?” you reply, tilting an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. 

“Maybe—” she rolls her eyes, avoiding your gaze, and you can spot the faintest sign of a devious smirk on her lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you showed me with your girlfriend’s consent—”

“To all house guests. To all house guests.” An artificial voice echoes over the speakers, interrupting the conversation and grabbing everyone’s attention. “Please gather outside. The special show will be starting soon.”

After the brief distraction, she faces you again with a friendly, mutual smile, saying, “We can talk about this another time.”

Leaving you on another cliffhanger, she spins around and follows everyone outside.

—————

The interior of the mansion is nothing compared to the courtyard. An enclosure so large in scale; it can host a concert or festival. While you and the guests pick seats, butlers form the stage for the performance. Surprisingly, Rei opts not to lurk close by, instead choosing a seat far behind. You, on the other hand, settle for one in the second-most front row area. She doesn’t spot you spying on her a fair distance away, and probably for the best, too, after what had just transpired.

Ignore her. You’ll want to avoid her for the rest of the night. Perhaps if you’re luckier, Yujin decides she’s had enough and wants to leave, but it’s very, very unlikely. It would take the ground beneath you splitting to separate her from her best friend.

Smoke rapidly fills the platform as the stage goes dark. The entrance is grandiose; the audience around you erupts in thunderous applause as two silhouettes flash themselves behind a door-shaped window. You can recognize both figures with ease. With all the times your fingers traced her skin and curves, you could recreate Yujin’s body from memory alone. 

The cheering grows as the windows swing open, their faces now in clear view. Yujin and Wonyoung make this sexy pose side by side. It’s almost unbelievable how radically different their attitudes are on stage, and you were just speaking to them a while ago. A handful of phones are stretched out to take photos of the duo, while you’re mentally taking pictures, taking in their overwhelming beauty that cameras don’t do them enough justice. Your girlfriend was always the first thing you had your eyes on, but admittedly, Wonyoung’s making you feel some kind of way, too. 

They follow up with a parallel strut that outshines any model. Yujin shoots your side of the audience a flirtatious smirk, and your reaction is no different than anyone else, falling head over heels for her, as if you weren’t her lucky one. Wonyoung’s smile is more innocent, dainty—the kind that warms even the coldest of hearts. Had your fingers not bore deep into your thighs, self-restrained, you might have quietly snuck them between your groin, irrespective of where you are and who you’re with. 

You don’t realize they’re singing on stage with the stationed mic stands. You’re mostly immersed in their little sensual movements and the way they motion to the crowd with their hands. You don’t know the lyrics to every song, but you’re bopping lightly, imagining how their tight bodies would react when they ride you in private. There’s a little hum quietly dripping from your lips, not because you’re following along with the tune, but because you’re moaning. 

Yujin and Wonyoung perform for half an hour, but you don't waste a single second of it not admiring them. There are times when one of the girls waves or shoots a pair of eyes at your direction, but you remain reactionless, taking in the sight of their perfection before you like they’re a present for your patience.

One more wave to the audience before they leave, to the loudest wave of resounding cheers. They walk back to where they stood in the entrance, flaunting their cheeks before the doors close and they disappear in a puff of smoke. In a different setting, you'd have ran onto the stage and taken them both, right then and there, in front of the crowd, without a care in the world. 

—————

You don’t hear a word from either of them for the next two hours. Biding the time, you wait on the outskirts of the courtyard, beyond anyone’s sight, taking solace under the fresh mountain air, occasionally looking through your phone with no texts or calls, looking for a sign to leave. One look over your shoulder and it’s very clear that no one’s going home anytime soon. Taking photos of the two was the smarter play, in hindsight.

“Miss Jang would like to have a word with you.” A steely voice catches your attention. Tilt your head to find one of the many nameless butlers standing upright before you. “Come with me.”

“Oh thank God.” You’re not even hiding your excitement, as evident by that lively pep in your step. You feel your patience is finally being rewarded.

You follow the servant back to the mansion proper, avoiding eye contact with anyone, even when you catch a glimpse of Rei around the corner interacting with another guest. Back up the stairs to the second floor. Not another soul around and not a single sound can be heard. Ultimately, he leads back to the room where you first met Wonyoung before turning around and leaving you there alone.

“Wait, what does she want—” The door slams shut with a loud thud before you can even finish the question. Run back to chase him, but the door remains firmly shut and you’re unable to open it. Knowing how much surveillance there is everywhere, it wouldn’t surprise you if she knew of your little exchange with Rei, whether it be cameras, microphones, or guests disguised as moles. 

“No, no, no—” you grumble, each one more fearful than the last. Try as you can to turn that knob, it refuses to budge. Texting Yujin’s your only other option, but you can’t get a good signal inside the spacious chamber, despite previously seeing 5G on your phone. The lights suddenly shutting off would be the last thing you want to happen, and against your wishes, it’s what does end up happening—leaving you entirely in the dark. 

It’s the stuff of nightmares: completely shut inside a rich manor, with lights suddenly going off at random, and with no forms of communication. The only thing missing are the windows swinging open to let strong winds blow, but you have to stop thinking more of these grim thoughts before they become reality. 

Desperation sets in so quickly; you’re banging aimlessly at the door, at the window, but not even your hardest efforts can move a single inch. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Your fate is basically sealed.

A little gleam clears darkness from the other side of the room. A call to judgment. A slim figure walks in, judge, jury, and possibly executioner all at once. Then the lights come back on, blinding you. 

“Hi.” She calls to you gently, ignoring that you’re walking in aimless circles. “You okay?”

A scream escapes your breath, leaving you in your most embarrassing state. “Wonyoung!” You don’t give her any space to ask for context. “Look, if this is about what happened earlier, then I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” She raises an eyebrow and her lips curl into a frown, concerned for different reasons. “Incident? Are you okay?”

“Didn’t you know? Me and Rei got into an—oh.” Realizing there’s no reason to panic, you relearn the ability to pick up cues, and act like everything’s normal. Wonyoung’s shooting you a wary look, and it’s not far off from how everyone else at this party saw you—at least at one point. “Yeah, no. I was kinda scared because the lights suddenly went off and—”

“The lights? Well, Yujin told me you were a scaredy cat,” says Wonyoung with a small smile. You roll your eyes to the side, far more annoyed than anything else that happened tonight. Take back what you’ve said earlier. Yujin’s the kind of person who’d actually pull those tricks on you, and of course she’d allow her friend to get involved in her own warped games to avoid suspicion. That’s how cunning she can be. She sees you as a sandbox to play with.

“I’m sorry. I called you so I can apologize and because I want to speak to you.” Wonyoung continues quietly, bowing reverently as if she committed an unforgivable crime—something she most likely learned being under intense scrutiny all the time. Forgiveness was going to be given, regardless. This seems completely unnecessary, but you appreciate the sincerity and effort.

“Wony, or Miss Jang, whatever you want to be called—it’s fine, there’s no need to cry about it.” She lifts her head, sobbing a little, and her lips contort into a gentle smile. You can see and understand why she’s so beloved; beyond the wealth, she’s so innocent, pure looking and sounding, all the elements of a likable character in a cute package.

“Thank you.” She nods her head energetically, shaking your hands in appreciation. Dramatic behavior for something relatively minor, but you’re a guest without any authority in her house. Besides, how can you say no to that endearing face? “I’m really sorry. I just wanted to be close with my friend—”

“Yujin? Don’t worry about it. She likes to tease me a lot,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes to the side again, tone mildly disgruntled. Another one of her playful tactics, out in the light. “And I can see you two are really close.”

“Yeah.” Wonyoung brushes a finger against her pink cheek, pouting her lips. “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t remember anything before we met.” 

She suddenly stops, looks over your shoulder, before adding, “We should take our little talk to another room.”

—————

“Thirsty?” asks Wonyoung, walking around the room, scouring for the tea infuser.

“Kind of,” you reply, unsure if you really want a drink—or to drink her. Either way, you’re dying for a taste of something sweet. 

While she’s preoccupied with serving you tea, you scan her from head to toe, still dressed in her showy outfit from earlier. A red corset covers her white dress shirt and tie, complemented by her hair wrapped in a cute bun. None of it steals your attention more than her short shorts, showing a glimpse of her plump ass cheeks that ripple when she casually walks back and forth. Her attitude is nothing compared to what she displayed on stage, yet she renders you speechless. In your head, she’s still the daring woman out there performing.

She walks over to you, casually reclined on the comfy sofa, with a fresh pot of tea in hand. Pouring a drink on your cup, she shoots you a heartstopping smile, like she’s facing the cameras; it’s second nature for her to charm. A memory you’ll keep forever. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Lean over to grab the cup and take a sip. Very hot that it scalds your tongue, causing you to flinch, but it’s tasty. “Mmmmm—hot, hot, hot.”

She giggles in the middle sipping her own self-made drink, but it doesn’t bother her. Admittedly, you’re no religious tea drinker to tolerate it, but on the contrary, she handles it with such well-trained poise. It’s in the little details: how straight her sitting posture is and how she holds the cup in her delicate hand, despite the long nails, along with the saucer—very princess coded.

“Not used to tea?” she asks, before taking another swig at it. “It’s healthy for you, you know that?”

“Don’t really have time for it,” you reply back, mirroring her motion, but the second nip is just as sizzling. As a result, you end up looking even more stupid. She has this neutral, deadpan look on her features, but the little shift in her lips as you burn your tongue on her tea reveals cracks in her well-manufactured character. A very embarrassing display, even behind closed doors. “Shit—I mean, crap, that’s hot—”

“Hey, you can swear here. This isn’t a church.” Her cup is half-empty or half-full, depending on how she sees it, before she puts it down on the table. “So where were we again? Right. Yujin.”

Her name sets off red flags in your head, activating your fight or flight response. Even when you’re in the most secure place in the world, where nothing can hear or see you, she’s lurking around the corners of your mind rent-free. Knowing she’s close with Wonyoung means she’s more than likely in the know about every part of you, down to your most personal parts. The lights prank was the biggest proof of this.

“Tell me. What is she like as a girlfriend to you?” No mincing words, no gentle mood setting opener, she goes straight to the point, yet you’re still on edge. The wary side of you believes she’s probably extracting info that you’re keeping for yourself. It’s the perfect lure; behind all the flashy lights, she has a kind and friendly aura wrapped in a sweet package.

It takes a few minutes to process and think your answer through. Her eyes demand honesty, but to you, it’s probably just a front. She’s a celebrity, after all. She wears a mask everywhere she goes. 

“That’s a very personal question to ask,” you reply, emphasis on very. There are lines that can’t be crossed, and this is one of them. You’re not falling for the bait so easily. 

Wonyoung tilts her head, cocking an eyebrow, unbothered. “I know. Yujin tells me you’re a great lover, but I wanna hear it from your side. How do you feel about her?”

“She’s a great lover too,” you reply, testing the waters’ depth. Very treacherous. Hope it doesn’t pull you down and drag you to the bottom. “She likes to tease, she’s very playful, and she likes to make me look bad in front of her friends, but otherwise, she’s great in just about everything.”

She lifts her eyebrow and nods, taking mental notes of every spoken word. After a pause, it’s on to the next question. “In what way does she make you look bad in front of your friends?”

There’s still time to swim back to safety, but the waves are growing more turbulent by the minute. 

“Er—” you struggle to formulate anything that doesn’t raise a suspicious eyebrow. Either it breaks continuity, or makes no sense. Maybe you’ll float, somehow, but that sinking feeling remains stronger. “She likes to stick it in my face that she can own me if she wants to.”

“And is that not true? You know you’re dating a celebrity right?” Wonyoung places a finger on her chin, staring deeply into your soul. She’s the taller person in the room, but not the bigger person. “We’re kind of narcissistic like that to anyone. You should have known that.”

“If I knew all celebrities were like that, I’d have never come back to her,” you say, using every bit of your willpower not to yell at her. 

“Yet here you are. And you’d never be here without her presence.” Wonyoung crosses her legs, mildly entertained as you gradually pull those metaphorical hairs off in front of her. “You told me she was great at everything, right? I guess ruining the bedroom must be part of that, too.”

The sound that comes out of you is almost inhuman. Wonyoung’s no longer acting sincerely, breaking character to laugh at your misery. It was bound to happen with how shallow your brain thinks. Then again, you weren’t in the clearest state of mind when you reconnected with Yujin.

“I get it. She’s very hot. Everyone wants a piece of her. Consider yourself very lucky she’s just that—and not a naggy bitch, unlike some of the people in this party,” she adds, smarmy in delivery that it doesn’t feel like proper consolation.

“Yeah, but what else am I supposed to do? I don’t like being her punching bag.” 

“To be honest, I don’t know what you two are like, I really don’t.” Wonyoung suddenly stops, hops off from her couch to sit beside you. Disarming of a tone it is, the answer is anything but reassuring.  “But think of it this way. Gotta take the bad with the good, right?”

“I guess.” You take a deep breath, uncertain about what to feel, or do. 

“She hasn’t done anything to you tonight, right?” She quietly wraps an arm over your shoulders, inching her pristine face close to yours. Another line crossed. Forget about that, she’s dancing back and forth between those non-existent lines.

“Nope. Haven’t seen her after the performance, either.” 

Your eyes meet, and hers twinkle brightly, worthy of a star of her name. It’s the thing you wanted the least to happen.  You’re drowning in her gaze.

“Can you do something for me?” she asks, whispering softly. Her breath fills your nostrils with inviting warmth.

“Sure,” you say, without hesitation, throwing all caution to the wind.

“I wanna know what she feels,” she says, each word dripping with honey and rapid growing lust. “I wanna know how she feels with you in bed.”

“Are you sure?” you question, but it’s pointless. Your hands are already tracing the outline of her back, marking new territory to explore, until they cup soft, bare, round flesh. 

“I’m ready,” she replies back, eyes gleaming with desire. She shifts her entire weight onto you, pushing you to the bottom of the couch, asserting dominance over you. “She told me how amazing you are in bed, and I can’t help but be curious. I really wanna know what it’s like.”

Before you can even question the security of the place, she’s right ahead of you. Kissing the ridge of your nose, she whispers, “Don’t worry if we’re being too loud. Only the both of us will know.”

Kiss her on the lips in return. A lure until you flip positions. Suddenly, you’re hovering above her. Your hands drag along upward until they grasp the zipper of her red corset. You meet resistance when she quivers beneath you, shaking her head vehemently.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, pulling yourself back into a crouch.

“I want to keep my clothes on,” she whispers, timid and nervous, her demure character gone in an instant. “Um—it’s not that I suddenly changed my mind, it’s just that I haven’t done this before.”

You sit up on the couch, perfectly understanding, quickly formulating a way for you to make her first time feel comfortable. “Tried any toys before?”

Wonyoung follows you, softly grasping your hand. “Played with a few dildos, but that’s about it. I find it quite uncomfortable at times.”

“Hmm.” An idea suddenly hits you like lightning. It’s ridiculous, but you might as well swing for the fences. “Watched porn?”

“What?” Wonyoung’s jaw slacks, caught off-guard by such a rather obscene question, even by lewd standards. She lets a moment to let the question sink in, more on the side of disbelief than looking for an answer. “Yes, but—why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you want to learn how to suck a cock.”

“Mmm, that sounds interesting, but I’ve seen enough ‘movies' to have an idea.” Wonyoung hops off the couch, promptly drops to her knees. Frisky fingers latch on to the hem of your pants, already ahead of you. “Would you like me to suck your cock?”

There was no need to elaborate any further. 

You give her an approving nod. Immediately, her fingers work on your zipper, sliding them down. The rest of your pants and underwear follow. Her eyes light up at the sight of your cock, springing to life after being freed.

Looking up at you again, she asks, “Can I?”

Nod again, completely hypnotized by the sight of your shaft close to the perfect, young starlet’s face. It’s almost scandalous how you have what’s basically a goddess in everyone’s sight brought down to earth in such a filthy manner. 

“I’m not really good at this, but I really wanna try.” Wonyoung’s being apologetic again before anything happens, and it’s repetitive, but you’ll let it slide over and over. She sticks out her tongue, nervously inching it close to your cock, until it plants atop your tip, breaking your resolve almost immediately.

“Mmmmm.” She gets her first taste of real cock. It's bitter, salty, and everything she expects, everything she craves. That first slurp cools her dry throat, like finding an oasis in the middle of a desert.

“Christ.” You lose control of your senses, eyes growing weary at the sight of her dainty fingers, the way they wrap around the base of your dick, pumping you to full hardness. You can't believe it. There's this surge of ecstasy, and it renders you helpless under her control. "This was your first time? Fuck--"

Sloppy slurps and smooches from her lips reduce you into a groaning mess. She spreads globs of precum all around your shaft, unintentionally spilling little specks on her chin and cheeks. Her eyes continue to watch intently while you fall weak at the knees, clinging nails to the sofa’s linen. Ignore the collateral damage you’re making. It will barely dig into her deep pockets. 

The more Wonyoung continues to blow you off, the more seed splatters onto her, making her sparkly features even more glinting. It’s difficult to comprehend just how incredible she is at sucking cock—or maybe it’s just you struggling to think beyond pleasure and nothing else. She claims it’s her first time, yet the way her fingers stroke you with confident and elaborate precision means anything but. The little bits of white that taint her flawless face do nothing but make a masterpiece shine even brighter.

Her tongue continues to slide and make itself known all over your length. It’s almost impossible not to give in to your urges and force yourself down her throat. She’s doing well so far; you can barely hear her gurgle or complain while she takes more of you inside her, little by little. Caress that dark hair, still bundled together in a cute package. She reciprocates your compliment by pushing a little bit further, even when her maw tries to resist, only to cross a line she hasn’t reached.

“Ghhhk, mmmph, ghhhk!” Wonyoung coughs into your shaft, overwhelmed by the fullness of your length, tickling her sensitive part deep in the gullet. You pull her by the bun, release her throaty grip on your shaft with a sloppy pop, letting saliva spill onto the floor and her dress.

“You okay?” you ask, concealing the bliss you feel with a frown. Compared to her, you’re not a good actor.

To your surprise, she slaps you away from her harshly, then shoots you a disappointed pout. More adorable than intimidating. “I was still adjusting, asshole. If your dick wasn’t so fucking big—”

“Gotta take the bad with the good, right?” you deflect what she said to you earlier, chuckling at her cute scowl. Unknowingly, Yujin’s mannerisms are rubbing off on you, but you refuse to give credit where it’s due.

Wonyoung rises from the floor, opting to straddle herself on your lap instead. Your shaft lines against soft, wet flesh. Her hands grab the bottom of her shorts, pulling them up for easier access to her folds. It’s impossible to look anywhere but those magnetic caramel eyes, staring deep into your soul, telling you what she wants, without the need of any needless words.

“I’m ready now.” She rests her hands against your shoulders, looking at you expectantly. That was only a warm-up. It’s time for the real test. “Fuck me.”

You’re briefly taken aback just by how blunt her demand is, but those two words spoken in such a sensuous tone linger. Denying her at this stage would be downright criminal. Her slim thighs wrap around the area where your cock stands, the softness of her skin more than capable of making you cum before you can do anything. 

She leans forward to capture you in a passionate kiss, hotter and more passionate than the first. The spell that pushes away whatever logical and moral barriers remain. There’s an angel placed before your lap; time to make her sing. 

Lift her up until she gently descends and makes a graceful landing against your shaft. Upon impact, the kiss is disrupted, rocking her entire body with a new, electric sensation. Moaning music  into your mouth, she makes it clear how heavenly you feel. 

“Mmm—oh God, you’re already stretching me out,” she purrs against you, shutting her eyes and letting all the pleasure wash over her. 

“Better than any dildo?” 

“Better than any dildo.” She nods, lifting her head to expose her neck, clean and pure—ready for ruin, just like every other part of her. 

“Just moan for me, okay?” you say, whispering against her nape. “I’m gonna fuck you like how I fuck Yujin.”

Her body locks as you push deep into her tight, overwhelming cunt. To say she was suffocating would be an understatement. Her sopping pussy proves to be a strong vacuum when you draw back for the first time, pulling every bit of you deep into her core. She’s grasping at straws to not fall apart so quickly. Tugging your hair, neck, and into your expensive dress shirt—none of that bothers you in the slightest, thrusting in a second time, adjusting quicker to her heat than you expected.

You release a breath you’ve unknowingly been holding, looking up at her pleasure ridden face. Her expressions melt in every direction, chest heaving deeply from all the built-up pleasure. “You’re really tight, Wony.”

Resting her forehead against your temple, her palm grips the back of your skull. “And you’re so big.” Praise you’ll never grow tired of hearing from anyone. “C’mon. Do it already.”

In an ideal world, all her clothes would have been gone while you pound into her wet, delicious pussy. This is just as hot, too—maybe even hotter. The usually imperfect Wonyoung looking like your typical girl at the local bar arouses you. So you weaponize those nasty thoughts and do your God-given purpose—to fuck pleasure into their needy, wanton bodies.

Pushing your strained hips up, you pound her, make her sing to high heaven. Hungry fingers hike up the rest of the leftover fabric in her shorts being sucked in by her gap, partially stained from pent up excitement. It’s a familiar feeling, reminiscent of when you were young, innocent and didn’t know any better. Now it’s playing out again, scene by scene, with a few key differences. The girl is different, and you’re nowhere close to being drunk, but here you are—stuck in that old place.

Wonyoung is nowhere close to assertive, unlike her. Her confidence and emphaticness immediately crumble after the first thrust, and freefall even further on the second. She’s not ripping through your clothes, nor is she eager to lead you to bed right away, how she has you glued to the couch with those slender legs. None of that matters when her moans are pornographic, unbefitting of her otherwise pure, princess-like charm that she’s famously known for. On the contrary, her torrid, frantic kisses perfectly embody that trademark allure.

You’re testing those waters again to see how far you’ll go before you inevitably drown. One hand rests at the zipper of her corset, imprinted with your fingerprints, eagerly anticipating her go-ahead for undressing. The other confides on her plump ass molding into your grip, into something truly yours. Meanwhile, she continues to alternate between a mewl and a moan, crashing her body against your shaft to stretch her out even further. Soften her up more with kisses and nibbles on her chin and neck, leave crimson marks as red as her dress. As glowing as she already is, she will shine brighter than the lights above.

“Yujin must be so lucky to have you,” whines Wonyoung, huskily, tilting your face up to meet her fluttery eyes glazed with pleasure, expressions twisting with every overwhelming sensation. She kisses you again. The taste of strawberry flavored lipstick will never leave you. “This dick is so good—”

“I’m still holding back, babe.” Kiss her reddened neck and collarbone. The way she moans in response reminds you of her, a pleasure they both share. “I want you to feel good since it’s your first time.”

Yujin would demand you to up the pace, and lead you to a rushed ruin, but not Wonyoung. “It really feels so good. Keep going.”

Even as you engage in small conversation, your slow, loving tempo rocks her light frame vigorously, releasing sweet melodies you’d never hear from that mouth otherwise. Her tight, sopping cunt flexes against your cock, allowing you smoother and sloppier glides in and out of her core. You’re nowhere close to hitting the perfect angle, but her silvery mewls offer consolation. She continues to envelop you in her tight embrace, hands reaching all over your back, wanting more of you merged with her as possible.

The hand itching to undress her roams down her back to rejoin the other in squeezing her soft, cheeky flesh. To your amusement, she yelps in your ear and she violently quivers, eliciting a silent giggle out of you. A test of the room’s soundproofing, and it works as intended. Her entire body is in your grasp, moldable and malleable in any shape and form to your heart’s utmost desires. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can last. I’m so close to cumming,” she whispers, and it only spurs you on to lead her into a satisfying climax. Slow as you are penetrating her, you want the moment to last longer. A few minutes isn’t enough for you to relish the warm sensation of your cock buried in her incredibly tight hole. Still, she has this look in her weary eyes demanding you to pull through, which you happily oblige.

“Where do you want me to cum?” you ask, slowing your pace down that even snails move faster. You’re unwilling to take any risks, especially with someone like her.

“Anywhere you want.” Wonyoung continues to fuck herself against your cock, apathetic about everything else except the high she intensely seeks. “I swear, if you pull out now, I’m going to—”

A kiss on those sensitive collarbones tempers her demanding mouth, back to those broken, varied moans. Another reminder that she’s nowhere close to grabbing you by the balls like Yujin could. As punishment, the dress must come off, but you know it’s not worth the rest of your life in perpetual harassment in exchange for temporary pleasure. You’ve already learned your lesson; she’ll understand it one day.

For now, you settle into that laid back pace, lifting yourself a bit off the couch as much as your legs allow you to. Wonyoung has basically marked down your whole back with her nails, hoarsely squealing and whimpering as her body trembles. You can feel it in every part of her how she’s ready to cum with the way her pussy clenches against your cock, unwilling to let go, just like the first time you entered her.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum—” 

Right on the dot, Wonyoung finally gives in, throwing her head back to let pleasure run its course. It pulls you deep, gives her juices to liberally coat your shaft with delicious waves of slick, dripping on the couch and down to her thighs, forming a lifetime connection with you. The force sends you back down on the sofa, enough to stop you right in your tracks, long before you’re even close to cumming. 

“Oh my god, oh my god. I came so much.” Firmly clinging to you, she rests her head on your shoulders, completely zapped of all her strength. Her eyes tilt down to note the wet puddle blocked by your legs. It doesn’t alarm her in the slightest; to her, a replacement couch is cheaper than a thorough cleaning. 

Kissing her ear and placing her beside you on the sofa, you quietly ask, “How was it?”

“I came so much. Oh my God,” she says, unable to comprehend she spilled that much. Her gaze remains glued to the wet pool formed on the couch, now seeing the full extent of her wreckage. A curious finger taps the sticky pool to make sure she’s not imagining things. “I don’t think I ever came that much with any dildo.”

Putting back your pants on, you smile at her innocent reaction. She’s still fresh to it all, but there’s a curiosity in her eyes, wanting to learn more. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I really wanted to undress you, you know.” you follow, examining her from head to toe, all sweaty and clothes soiled from a simple session—and you weren’t trying too hard. “I can’t help but imagine what’s beneath all that clothing.”

“You’ll see.” Her eyes have a fiery glint reminiscent of your girlfriend, and all of a sudden, she has this renewed life. “Just so you know, you didn’t cum in me, asshole.”

“Just being safe,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. “Wasn’t sure if you were on the pill or not.”

“Of course I was on the pill.” Wonyoung looks away, but you can discern the scornful expression on her features, seemingly offended by your comment. “I would never.”

You flash a taunting smirk, ready to play her preferred trick. There was no way this would end after a one and done. “Why don’t we take this to the bed right now, then?” 

—————

It was so obvious right from the start. 

The door barely grants access to Wonyoung’s bedroom, but you already had a finger directed at the center of the mattress, pointing out the glaringly obvious figure laying on its edge. It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, and looking back in retrospect, everything building up to this moment was all part of an elaborate plan.The questions, the setup, the secretive location—they were all red flags. Then again, you always think with your cock, not with your brain, especially when there’s a pretty girl begging for it.

“Hey sweetheart,” says Yujin, whimsically, posing on her side like it’s one of her typical photoshoots. Like Wonyoung, she’s still in her performance outfit, but with her hair down in contrast to her junior’s bun. “Having fun?”

“Was,” you retort, but your complaint has no ground when you’re unable to keep your eyes off your seductive girlfriend. 

She smirks and giggles, knowing everything’s falling into place. “Wony baby. How was the experience?”

“Pretty good,” replies Wonyoung, smiling from ear to ear. “He didn’t cum in me though.”

“Hey,” you suddenly blurt out, turning your gaze to the younger woman, not even trying to hide your annoyance, because you know what really happened.

“You’ll get yours, babe.” Yujin rolls off the bed to approach you, retaking control of what’s hers from her friend. She then pushes you onto the mattress, staring you down like a hungry predator stalking down her prey, aroused by the taste of blood—or in this case, lust. If not for those fiery pupils watching your every little move, hammering home the fear of God into your soul, there would be some fight in you to resist.

Now that’s a lie, because you would never—she always had her way with you.

“Watch and learn.” Climbing and hovering atop you, slowly spreading your legs, Yujin looks over to her best friend, watching on eagerly to see what it’s really like with you two. She’s seated on the edge of the bed, having restored much of her elegant poise to its clean, camera friendly form. 

“You did a great job warming him up for me,” says Yujin, grinding her hips against your clothed prison, already on the verge of blowing up. The two beauties watch in amusement as your tent pitches a second time. Fuck. You’re already leaking copious amounts, it’s quite obvious, and she’s humping you at such a relaxed tempo. 

“He really wanted to undress me,” comments Wonyoung, still flashing that princess-like beam, looking innocent in the matter, when in fact, she’s the instigator. “I told him not to, and he thankfully didn’t, but I felt his hands on my zipper a few times.”

“Mmm, being so naughty when I’m not looking?” Yujin’s tone is honeyed, but her movements are anything but. The pace she grinds herself against you quickens, and you’ve never felt so desperate for release, but you had no say in the matter—not when she has your hands tied over your head, kept in place by Wonyoung’s delicate but firm grip. “Were you ready to leave me for her? Good choice, but typical.”

Quick fingers make near-instant work of your pants and underwear, pushed down to the floor in an instant, freeing up your hard cock. Such relieving freedom is taken away just as quickly as it’s given when Yujin seizes you by the balls and your length, setting you alight. Each second burns hotter than the last, a kind of fucked-up form of punishment typical of the justice system. 

“Jesus, f-fuck, Yujin—” you hoarsely whimper, visibly struggling to gather air, but it only serves to arouse Yujin, and she reprimands your feeble oppression with a tighter lock on your most sensitive parts, smirking devilishly. It’s useless. For Yujin, this is all play, an elaborate demonstration to teach Wonyoung, but the pain is real. There’s a good likelihood you may not have a functioning pelvis in the morning. 

“You’re being very rough on him.” Wonyoung watches on concernedly, but also intrigued by the rather torturous method being performed. She knows she couldn’t overpower Yujin if she tried, and well, she most certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her hands, either.

“He actually enjoys being handled like this, dear.” Yujin makes sure not a single spot in your shaft is left unchecked by her steely hold. The deflated, helpless expression on your face says otherwise, but it’s only a front for what comes after. Little white spurts spill from the tip of your shaft, sufficient evidence to prove her point. “See?”

“Mm, are they like this all the time?” Wonyoung remains unconvinced. 

“Not always, but you’ll find one someday—someone who’ll beg on their knees to fuck you.” Her stranglehold on your cock loosens, finally giving you some actual breathing room—at least in your groin. “Didn’t you have that Korean government official sending you birthday ads and flowers?”

“Too ugly for my taste.” The younger woman grimaces at the reminder of that particular man, wishing he never be brought up in conversation ever again, much to her friend’s laughter. “I would never.”

Yujin nods along in agreement. “You’re too pretty for him. I bet he doesn’t even have a big dick like our little friend over here.”

“True.” Suddenly, both pairs of eyes turn in your direction, stare you down with a malicious smirk, full of purposeful intent. You would meet them halfway with your own confidence, but not when you’re in such a powerless position and with most of your strength sapped.

“Come up here.” Yujin gestures to her keen friend, hopping off your lap to make room for the lighter woman. Hiking up her equally short shorts, she hovers above you, giving you a peek of her splayed out pussy—the one you’ve craved for so long. Meanwhile, Wonyoung occupies the space previously occupied by Yujin, smothering you in a sea of soft, creamy thighs. The older woman spins around to face her untrained partner, hanging her cheeky flesh atop your face—a perfect view and obstruction.

“What are you gonna do to him?” asks Wonyoung, eyes wide with curiosity at Yujin’s seemingly awkward and strained position.

“Don’t pay attention to him.” Yujin promptly rests her ass against your face like a pillow, followed by her thighs muffling up your ears. “Get on top of his cock.”

Wonyoung complies, gliding her hips down in a graceful manner until she hilts herself down to your base, impaling her cunt with your hard dick. The inviting, suffocating heat that surges throughout your sensitive body makes you violently tremble. What a position you are in, something that most people in the country could only dream of. Two beauties in the prime of youth, desired by everyone, sandwiching you with their perfect, goddess-like figures. At this point, you were simply an outlet of pleasure to two wanton, hot bodies and nothing more. 

“O-oh God—” Yujin lets out a prolonged, tense whine as your tongue licks between her glistening folds, indulging in the sweet taste of her wet juices. Her thighs tighten up in response to your stimulation, closing spaces where you can breathe, but that doesn’t bother you. You craved her more than a drink in a dry desert with the way you lapped up her slick, and her suffocating legs were nothing but practice to hold in your deep breaths. For once, it was nice to have some form of control in the situation.

“You okay?” asks Wonyoung, clambering her palms against your thighs, looking hesitant.

“More than okay. This feels so fucking good.” Yujin’s confident expressions gradually melt away to make room for pleasure to take over. Before long, her slender, hourglass-shaped hips ride against your face, maximizing the areas your tongue can dig into. Her hands cling to your clothed chest for support, unable to remain balanced while you continue to feast on her. Miraculously, she’s still able to formulate a follow up, albeit with a string of stammers and stutters. “S-see? You’ll w-want your guy to be l-like this.”

“C-come on, ride h-his c-cock, d-dear. I-I-i’m s-sure h-he won’t mind.” Yujin reassures her friend with a weak smile that immediately folds under the helpless, blissful sensations her body feels. 

Fueled by newly found courage, Wonyoung glides and slams her hips against yours in delicate, graceful motions, still testing her limits. Your primal instincts take hold of you and you thrust upwards in kind, making her thin figure move atop you in smooth waves. It doesn’t take long before their collective moans form a harmonious symphony that you wish you could hear perfectly, if not for the two layers of silky, thick skin blocking your ears. 

“F-fuck!” Wonyoung whines, clutching at your waist, but the overbearing pleasure coursing through her body almost makes her fall off multiple times. Thankfully, her closest friend is there to keep her on her toes. “O-oh my God, o-oh God—”

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Yujin rests her hands on her junior’s shoulders while grinding her ass against your face, allowing you an endless fill from her slick fountain. “Just hold on. I’m here, okay?”

Wonyoung nods. Unsatisfied with her limitations, her hips increase in pace riding you. She wants to prove she can handle it, and that she’s ready for more of it. Soon, she grows comfortable, fully adjusted to your length. No longer needing Yujin’s help, she helps herself to her own lewd pleasures, using your cock roughly as her conduit. 

Not a single second passes by that you feel your body split in half, moving in two different wavelengths: one half preoccupied with eating Yujin’s delicious pussy, and the other slowly pumping into Wonyoung’s tight, sopping cunt. You’re a quick learner. You know all their sweet spots to hit and create the most satisfying sounds from their lips. Subtlety is the least of their priorities—a point proven when they’re loudly cursing and passionately declaring how good you feel, echoing across several rooms. The rooms might be soundproof, but the entire mansion may as well hear you three fuck.

Between clean licks of Yujin’s wet folds, when she lifts her ass out of your view, you can barely make out her and Wonyoung’s pleasure-ridden expressions. The two friends have begun making out with each other in between lewd moans and whispers, while never letting up the pace they ride you with.  

You’d love to lay in this position forever, as the complementary piece for two of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever met to pour out their pleasure in. But you knew deep down it wouldn’t last long, especially with Wonyoung, freshly recovered from your first session with her. She was always a ticking time bomb with a shorter fuse, accelerated by the now vigorous rhythm she rode your cock. It was always on your mind that this was her first, but she was fucking you like she had racked up a significant body count.

“S-so c-close,” whines Yujin, huskily, the first spoken word in a while that isn’t either your name or some kind of profanity. 

“M-me too,” adds Wonyoung, breaking sequence with a deep kiss of her partner’s lips. There might be no competition, but the twosome’s intensity rises even higher as they desperately chase after that climax. Your body is close to falling apart, cock throbbing wildly, also on the cusp of sweet release, but you’re merely a silent witness with little to no say. You’re just a channel for them to bask in bodily, sexual pleasure. 

It’s all but inevitable at this point. The real question is: who would be the first to cum, the first to start a chain reaction?

Their cries bounce loudly against the walls of the bedroom, past opened rooms as they lose control of their bodies, fucking themselves on you until the dams finally break. Yujin’s muscles spasm and crush you between her thighs. For a moment, you’d think she could snap you in half like a twig. A waterfall and a lake forms on opposite ends of your powerless body, creating two sticky pools on both sides. The powerful double surge of their climaxes is enough to bring you to a full stop, allowing them to drown you in their orgasmic bliss, creating one last crescendo as a swan song to their peaks. 

The wave of Wonyoung’s orgasm washing over your cock should make you orgasm too, urging the tightness in your balls to burn up. Thank your lucky stars you grinded to a standstill right as they came, giving you enough time to put up some form of resolve not to cum in her right then and there. You’ve been holding the impulse for so long, but you wanted your load not to belong to her first.

To your regret, Yujin clambers off you, parting her bountiful ass away from your face and bringing you to the light. Similarly, Wonyoung gingerly slides off your lap, rolls over to the side, wrapping an arm around your body, completely zapped of all her energy. Yujin rests opposite her junior, not as fatigued as she is. She can’t resist giggling when she sees the aftermath done to you, your entire face a canvas for her cum, which you clean with your tongue. 

“You did a number to her. Good job,” she says, darting her eyes over to her tired friend. She plants a finger on your groin, collecting a sampler of Wonyoung’s juices to taste in her mouth before gathering more to put in your mouth as well. Licking her wet digits, she adds, “Tasty.”

Her words barely register in your brain, and so does the little slick she places in your mouth. Your mind only focuses on one particular thing you’ve always wanted to do the whole night besides fucking, and that is to undress both girls and fuck them.

“You okay, Wony?” You turn over to face the worn out Wonyoung, who shoots you a weak but satisfied smile. She lifts her tired arm to give you a thumbs up, as if her beautiful beam wasn’t enough of a reassurance. “You know Yujin and I fuck more than once, right?”

“I know,” replies Wonyoung, coming out as little more than a faint whisper, mirroring her exhaustion. “Give me a minute. Maybe two.”

Eager as you were, you needed a breather, too, and there was no better place to rest than in the middle of two hot girls, lovingly resting their arms around you like they belonged to you.

—————

You take a beat to wipe the nonexistent filth off your chest as the two beauties stride ahead of you towards the desk table. With the way they walk, it doesn’t look apparent that they were railed to oblivion minutes prior. An insignificant detail that quickly becomes forgotten when your eyes take in the seductive and inviting manner they present themselves to you. Two sets of mouthwatering cheeks peek through their particularly short shorts—the most intrusive thing between you and them.

“Come on and fuck us, sweetheart,” says Yujin, looking over her shoulder with that sultry, near-impossible to resist gaze to entice you with sweet, dirty pleas, as if you weren’t already intending to fuck them hard. You always loved to hear those two words, but it’s a lot more special that she’s not alone. 

“You still owe me your cum, baby,” adds Wonyoung, trying but cutely failing to mimic her friend’s motions and sexy voice. There’s still an air of elegance and cutesiness in her projection that almost makes you giggle in amusement, but you wouldn’t dare—not when Yujin’s there, eying your little every move, growing impatient and testy, likely because she would pick her over you any day. 

Count your blessings.

It’s not difficult to get hard again, especially with the delicious sight in front of you. You finally rid the pesky dress shirt they’ve never removed and expose yourself down to your barest essentials. Positioning yourself between their legs, you stroke your cock with your hand, paint flecks of precum on their round cheeks, warming yourself up to embrace their heat. It’s impossible not to give their flesh a good smack as a reminder that their clean image is nothing more than just that—an image, a facade. You know them more intimately than anyone else.

“You two are so fucking hot,” you say, peppering their asses with a palmful, first to Yujin, then to Wonyoung. “And so naughty. I wonder what those people would say when they see you looking like this?” 

“What did I tell you about kissing ass during sex, sweetheart?” Yujin shoots pointed daggers in your direction, unamused. Wonyoung’s not innocent either, following her senior’s eyes with an intrigued gaze. “Put it in already, babe.”

And that was all she said. 

It only takes a moment before Yujin falls back to earth. All of her confidence instantly crumbles as you line yourself between her folds, then promptly invade her tight, welcoming pussy, foregoing all manner of pleasantries. She’s as warm and divine as you always wanted her, made easier and slicker by all the juices dripping and flowing down her toned legs. Her face rolls and slams against the surface, yet it can barely contain her strained cries of pleasure. Frantic nails scratch against the board’s edge as her body reacts to every little jolt, surrendering herself to your every whim.

You don’t leave Wonyoung unattended either. You slip a finger between her soaked lips, watch as her sweet, innocuous face crumbles into something lewd, something corrupted. Her eyes immediately go shut and her mouth goes wide with a whine a pitch higher than her senior before they melt into the desk. She’s a bundled mess, moaning into her friend’s ear as her pussy graciously coats your fingers with thick sheens of slick.

“P-please, o-oh God—”

“F-fuck, f-fuck, aaaaah—”

Their combined voices of strained, distorted bliss, dripping from their pleasure-laden faces spur you on and motivate you to ruin them some more. It’s unbelievable how they present themselves out there with a clean image when they have the most salacious, lewd tongues in private. None of it makes sense, how they could wear skimpy clothing in the sight of the most esteemed and well-regarded people in the room and no one would bat an eye, and they certainly wouldn’t raise an eyebrow with how loud they are as they’re being pounded from behind.

None of that ultimately matters to you. You don’t see two big celebrities in front of you. You don’t see your girlfriend and her partner asking for sex. You only see two of the hottest girls you know demanding pleasure, and you’re more than willing to give them everything.

With one hand gripped on Yujin’s ass and two fingers on the other deep inside Wonyoung’s cunt, you dive in and indulge into their overwhelming wetness. This is the kind of sex you always preferred—without any banter, without any further demands, just mindless submission into each other’s heat, filling the air with only the most pornographic sounds and nothing else. There’s nothing the two can do in response, especially when their bodies are squirming and vibrating beneath you, tightly clinging on the desk for dear life, growing wetter with each pump into their wanton pussies.

Without any voices in your head giving you directions, you have free reign to toy with them, use them as your outlet of pleasure now. So you switch your position behind them, sliding your wet dick inside Wonyoung’s pussy and replacing your cock inside Yujin’s cunt with your fingers. Even as you skip a beat, they’re too enamored in their own pleasures to realize your sudden absence, and far preoccupied by the new presence in their loins to care. 

That’s the sequence you follow: mindlessly stroking yourself deep into their hot, drenched cunt while fingering the other, back and forth, ignoring the discomfort you feel in both your legs and fingers from this disruptive cycle. Your only regret is not being able to see the twisted expressions in their stained features without a mirror to revel in their perfect, pornographic image, but the chorus of moans accompanied by your flesh slapping against their flesh are more than enough of a validation. 

“Going to cum, fuck,” you quietly announce, not wanting to let one seize demand over the other, but their ears catch wind of your little words. They tilt their heads slightly upward, still in the throes of bodily pleasure.

“Please cum for me.”

“Cum inside me, baby.”

Distinct as their voices are, they’re indiscernible to your ears, especially when they’re so husky and strained. Using the last of your strength, you pull out of someone’s pussy, stroke your throbbing cock with your hand, gasping and grunting as you finally let go. Gripping the other hand on someone’s waist, thick streaks of seed stain both girls’ clothes and cheeks, coat reddish spots of pounded flesh, letting it drip down their butt and thighs, to their boots.

The two girls lie motionless on the desk while you cling to their waist, gasping for air, barely holding out after your powerful release. Their legs and ass glow with your freshly coated sheen under the orange lights of the bedroom, and they sparkle brighter than any diamond in the world. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Yujin’s voice brings you back to reality. She’s the first to catch you in her embrace, cheekily smiling. 

Unable to muster up the strength to speak, you simply nod, head still spinning.

“Is it okay if I ask you a question?” Wonyoung asks, having unlatched herself from the table to join in the embrace, pecking your cheek with her soft lips. Your eyes glaze over the young beauty in response.

“Whose pussy was better? Mine or hers?”

A question you certainly have no answer to—nor do you have any intention of answering.

“I guess he’s still undecided,” says Wonyoung, turning to her senior, smirking. “Do you know?”

“Nope. I have no idea either.” Yujin’s sweet grin turns into the same, wicked smirk. 

Something’s wrong; you can feel it. You feel yourself staggering backward, saved only by their embrace of you. Yujin and Wonyoung kiss and moan into your body while moving you in the direction of the bathroom.

Possession of control swings back in their favor. They have you exactly where they want.

“Only one way to find out.”

—————

(A/N: Holy shit this one was an uphill one to create. I'm not a Wonyoung simp, not in the slightest even after writing this piece, but her SBS Gayo outfit made me feel some kind of way. Then there's Yujin being perfect as always. This is barely my new longest fic, topping out at a little over 12K words, and working on it became a chore at times. I only revisited this universe only because of those outfits and how good they looked together. Thank you for reading!)

[moonrazeeclipse]

Guilty Pleasures - Dreamcatcher Gahyeon

“Damnit Gahyeon I’ve been here for 30 minutes already.”

“Sorry sorry! The train was late, and it was packed and I had to wait for the next one,” Gahyeon sneaks in the real reason at the end. “And I overslept.”

“Ugh, are you this late to schedules? Why do I even put up with you.”

“Because that’s work, unless you’re paying me to be here, this ain’t work. And I’m the most good-looking person you know, now shut up and follow me.” Gahyeon pulls you into Dongdaemun Fashion Town. You and Gahyeon cut an odd pair—a fashionably dressed yet fastidiously anonymous woman dragging a shabbily attired man around the shops, the two of you stood out for very different reasons. The two of you were rivals in school, but Gahyeon went on to become an idol, and you went on to become an office worker. You suffer each other’s company begrudgingly: Gahyeon because you weren’t a star-struck fool who asked her for favors, and actually gave her shit when it mattered. You because she stuck around, made an effort to stay in touch rather than fade away and into her celebrity life.

“So who are you meeting? Do you have her insta? Does she have any exes on her profile?”

“Don’t they delete all of those?”

“They might just hide their faces, I want to see what they dress like, see what her type is.”

“Oh, anyways no, a friend set us up, I just have a name and a pic.”

“No college, no background?” You tell Gahyeon what you know, and with a few taps she brings up an instagram profile.

“Is this her?" You’re left to wonder if Gahyeon might just be in the wrong line of work as she starts scrolling through the pictures.

"I think so? Looks like the photo." 

"Damn, no guys, or at least guys that look like exes.”

“Just pick what you think looks good then.”

“Hmm okay, then let’s go!” Gahyeon has you following her like a puppy as her head turns on a swivel, walking down the many rows of shops. Suits, t-shirts, outerwear, innerwear, the place had it all.

“This and this, try them together.” “Do this one instead.” “Try the black one again? It looked better than the navy.”

It also happened to have sleek spaghetti tops, skirts, and pretty one-pieces.

“Hold on to these for me?” “How does this look?” “Wait here, I think I liked the other one better.”

You swear by the time you exit the market at least half of it is Gahyeon’s purchases, and that you’re holding all of it.

“Omo, you’re such a nice boyfriend, helping her hold all the shopping.” An old granny comments at the two of you exiting the area.

“What?” “HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!” Gahyeon shouts loudly over you. “Some of it is his stuff too!”

“Aigoo, poor you.” Gahyeon shoots a death glare as you kindly wave your hands at her.

“No granny, we’re just friends.”

“Do friends do that hmm? Have one person hold everything while the other one walks around like they own the place?” Gahyeon’s flabbergasted, her mouth opening and closing comically as she slowly grows redder and redder.

“No no, this is me repaying a favor, she helped me pick some nice clothes!”

“Did she now?”

“Yes I did! Y-You shouldn’t comment if you don’t know anything!”

“Aigoo sorry, you know, kids these days, all of them are couples. Here, a little something for entertaining little old me.” She pushes a box into each of your hands, and you nearly drop yours as you struggle to carry the bags.

“We don’t have money,” you say automatically, wary of being scammed.

“No no, it’s just a little trinket, help you two grow closer together.” Before you could thank her she turns around, disappearing into crowd, as quickly as she appeared in front of the two of you.

“Right— Hey!” Gahyeon grabs her bags from you, tossing the box into one of the bags unkindly before stomping off.

“Fuck it, I’ll carry themself! Tch!” You watch her crash through the crowd for a little bit before switching to using two hands. You catch up to her quickly and take the shopping bags back from her.

“Come on, you just carry the bag with the box in it.” Gahyeon continues to pout, and after some cajoling and a lot of dessert you finally see her off in a taxi, loading the bags into the back seat for her.

“Thanks, let me know how the date goes!”

Keep reading

[moonrazeeclipse]

WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY

male reader x jeon heejin

part 1 of journalistic integrity

16k words

It’s not even twelve hours apart - the first time you exchange pleasantries, all careless and untroubled, to the moment you’ve got Heejin in the back of a taxi and your hand so far up her skirt that it has you emptying your wallet at the end of the ride and slapping the biggest tip you’ve ever left into the cabbie’s open palm, silence full of disapproval. 

It isn’t planned or anything.

Heejin doesn’t simply wake up one morning with a craving for your cock. It just sorta happens. 

And then It happens again a week later. The third time just a few days after that. 

The fourth time, the two of you barely spend a night apart before Heejin’s back in your apartment, thighs shaking violently as you fuck her into the springs of your mattress.

“I’m trying to figure it out,” you puzzle, holding a coffee mug to your cheek while taking note of how Heejin slips her arms back beneath the black straps of her bra at the foot of your bed. “Why a rabbit?”

She laughs first. Looking back over her shoulder when she responds, “why not? It’s cute.”

“Yeah. Sure. And incredibly provocative.”

“You’re really hung up on it, aren’t you?”

“Um. I just think it’s interesting.”

“Does that mean it’s going to end up in one of your articles?” She asks, tossing her hair back over her shoulders. “Something about it on the front page?”

“Why would you think I’m going to write about rabbits?”

Heejin smiles, bright and cheery and increasingly full of mischief. “About this breeding kink of ours.”

“Ah.”

Her hands reach to her hips like she’s ruminating through all these possibilities, the things she could do to you, the things she has done to you. And as she crawls back onto the bed, your eyes follow hers - all brilliant and huge, self-aware of just how pretty they are.

She lets out this pinchy little laugh, and leans in to kiss your jawline. Bites it for good measure. “Ah, he says, pensively.”

“We went over this,” you start, leaning back into the headboard. “It’s just not a kink. Wanting to cum inside a pretty girl is, literally, basic biology. Like, it’s so foundational, it’s in my DNA.”

“And I get sooo turned on thinking about your DNA,” Heejin snaps back, and she’s got that edge in her voice again: playful, mildly threatening. “Besides, there’s more to it than that.”

“Isn’t there always.”

“It’s the ownership,” she breathes into your neck, ��the intimacy, the risk–”

“Risk?” you say, laughing as you jump into the middle of Heejin’s explanation. “What risk? There’s literally no risk when you’re on the pill.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst, you know that? Who’d thought I’d have to explain what fantasy means to a writer.”

Before you can do anything about it, she kisses you three times. Twice on the cheek, once on the lips. And it’s as close as you’ll get to anything like retaliation - you flip her underneath you, drag her panties down her thighs, and fuck her again.

That’s how it goes. Like it's some sort of cosmic law. It’s been this whole thing.

-

So again, you write - when it all starts, you’re writing.

There’s this story.

Your editor’s the one demanding it from you. Find it, embellish it, fucking outright fabricate it - whatever it takes so long as the article arrives on her desk before she finishes her coffee on Monday morning. 

Between you, there’s always this dynamic: work comes in, you’ll point your finger to the ceiling, saying, "trust in the creative process," and then she threatens to kill you. Hence it’s her drumbeat; you’re marching to it.

"You know, I think I might know a guy," you shout over the top of your glass and down the bar, when the topic of LOONA comes up over drinks. You end up phoning a friend of a friend, pulling a string, making a promise you never intend to make good on, and it has you sitting in an unremarkable conference room on the fourth floor of your office a little after lunch the following day.

So, as it starts, there’s this girl sitting across the table from you - Heejin, she says, and it rolls so nicely off her tongue as she does, like the name was simply hers. You notice it immediately, and if you were any younger, the kind of age where you could fall in love with a girl just off the end of a smile, your heart would be rocketing out of your chest.

Now, honest to god– 

(Not that you’re god-fearing or honest or virtuous, it’s just a turn of phrase, and that’s how you earn your keep.)

 –it kicks off innocently enough between you, as most things do. 

Just to put it in perspective, there’s never before been a celebrity profile you’ve written that hasn’t fallen neatly into one of three categories: (1) astonishingly talented, (2) breathtakingly gorgeous, or (3) certifiably insane. So, as you puzzle about that track record now, there should be absolutely no reason at all for you, a professional, to let this girl, another twenty-something-year-old idol who’s too pretty for her own good - with a voice that runs just a little deeper, raspier, perhaps more sultry than you’re used to hearing - ever get the better of you.

"I don’t know, I guess I was expecting someone… different," Heejin says, somewhere in the middle of things, folding her fingers neatly beneath her chin.

Your eyes flick up from the notepad in your hands and find this look in the deep browns of her eyes, like she’s studying you from across the conference room table, gazing into the contents of a test tube. You lift an eyebrow, and she does the same; there’s a bit more suggestion to it than there probably should be, but you’ve been stoking it, fanning it, from the moment you’d both sat down.

"Expecting?" you ask, if only to point out what had thrown you off-kilter, and you can feel your weight shift in your seat. 

After all, it had been just that morning when you met Heejin for the first time. She was standing perhaps a little out of place beside the door to her dressing room, kicking snow off the bottoms of her boots. You told her you liked the color of her dress, a welcome departure from the grays and browns that usually filled your office. Her hair was curtaining her face and after pulling it back, tucking it neatly behind her ears, she smiled brightly back at you - thanks, it’s vermillion.

You weren't aware of it then, and it won’t become clear to you until much later, but you do fall for her there, if at least just a little.

"Well, see, it’s my publicist," Heejin starts to explain. From that alone you’re certain you’ve got the rest puzzled out. She steeples her fingertips together, continuing, "the way she talked you up, she made you out to be, like, totally despicable. Said you were no better than those creeps that sit in the bushes outside my apartment."

Okay, so unfortunately, part of that’s not entirely unwarranted. To a girl like her - to the scrupulous companies that stand to gain, to lose - all that concerning secrets to hide and hell to pay, you could be absolutely despicable. Afterall, if there’s a labor that goes into making someone like Heejin come across as the kind of perfect that everyone believes her to be, you’d be the first person looking to undo it. 

It’s nothing personal, you reason, and you’re smiling back across the table. "Hey. Low blow. I haven’t sat in a bush in years."

A quiet smile shadows in the corner of her lip and she fires back at you, "so you’re saying you’re just a little despicable."

"Oh, ya know," you reassure her, gesturing your hands to the side, one palm up and the pages on your notepad splaying out in the other. "More or less comes with the mileage."

"All joking aside, I’ve seen guys…" 

Heejin dips her eyes a moment to laugh out loud. And you’re becoming familiar with the sound, sweet and throaty and genuine. Harmonic. 

"You know, I’ve seen guys climb trees. Really, I’m serious. This was just last summer, around the time Haseul broke up with her boyfriend and moved into our apartment. Don’t write that down. I’m standing at the sink, washing dishes, and I see this guy. He’s just balancing there with his feet hooked around some of the branches, a camera against his face with this massive lens. I bet you he could probably see the bacteria on the window."

“You wash dishes?” A handbag that costs more than a month’s salary, these dainty fingers that look like they’ve never seen so much as a scratch, and you’re picturing her, or struggling anyway - washing dishes.

“Ugh, it’s been this whole thing,” Heejin says, floating her fingertips to her collarbone. “There was a rumor that the housekeeper had been talking to the press. So our management fired them - and then the dishwasher broke. Company was supposed to buy us a new one, but they haven’t yet - because they’re cheap as shit. Don’t write that down either.”

“Never rains but then it pours, huh?”

“Right. You get it,” she says before letting this simple tight-lipped smile fill out on her face. "To be honest though, I’m curious about something." 

Heejin’s raking her fingers through her hair, and you watch the silver band of her watch fall just a few inches from the sharp edge of her wrist as she holds a messy handful of blonde locks just above her face - the way they bounce against her cheek and spill back onto her shoulder when she lets go.

"How did you - and I’m not saying you’re the same as one of those people - but how does someone even get into entertainment journalism in the first place?"

"Slowly at first," you answer, eyes returning to your lap to pen out the rest of some scribbled note, "and then all at once."

When you look back up, Heejin is frowning, brows furrowed, as though she were trying to remember something.

"Slowly at first," she repeats, "and then all at once." She blinks a few times as your attempt to avoid the question registers. Thoroughly unimpressed when it does. "No, I’m serious, there had to be something that drew you to all this."

You finish out the end of a note, lined into the pad, while you land on a chuckle, dry and humorless. "What is all this now?"

"It’s a question."

Nevermind that it’s in the wrong direction, is your first thought. Careful now, your second. Because maybe you knew that beneath the surface were those stray thoughts that kept you up at night, lurking: 

What kind of journalism career is this? 

You graduated from a good program. With classmates who were now reporting on national legislature, getting shot at to cover a war in Ukraine for The Associated Press - and then here you are, sifting through the transient thoughts of yet another pop star, grasping at straws, struggling to spin them into gold.

"Is this one of those things?" you ask, heeding first to the click of your pen, once in, once out. "What was the word for it… postmodern? Where you turn the tables and you’re the one interviewing me?"

"I don’t think I’d go that far," she says, lips slanted slightly, "you’re still the one holding the notepad after all."

“What, the appeal of meeting fascinating people isn’t enough of a sell for you?” Oh, you’ve had your fair share of boring, mundane, or even offensive too, but you’ve not gotten to where you are without learning a little flattery goes a long way.

Heejin scoffs. “Oh, don’t lie. I’ve read your magazine. The profiles? I’ve met those guys and gals—fascinating is being rather generous, wouldn't you think?”

“Careful,” you say, punctuated by the end of your pen again. Click.

See, it’s the way her eyebrows twist over that coquettish smile. That's how she gets you - one out of twelve, you’re realizing why the cameras are stuck on her. And everything that comes out of her mouth just brushes effortlessly on the innocent side of frustration, of challenge. It’s hard not to indulge, even if just a little–

“I mean if I’m wrong, go ahead, feel free to correct me.”

“I was real sick of freelance work,” you answer, feeling the conversation start to de-rail. “Was tired of worrying about making rent. And it was just less of a total pain in the ass.”

There was a method. It was delicate, and usually you were quite good at it: you were supposed to be just funny enough to make her laugh, captivating enough to coax out something more than a monosyllable answer where you needed it, get her to like you, and then have her forget about you the moment she walked out the door. Hell might freeze before you could get her publicist to schedule a follow up, all because Heejin had chewed up the clock - had gotten herself interested. 

It’s probably wishful thinking to hope the sigh rolling through your chest doesn’t give too much of all that up. “And just why might you ask?”

Heejin reaches across the table and turns off your tape recorder. It’s here probably: where you should’ve been clued into the pieces, the board, the game in front of you. “Because you don’t seem like most of the others.”

“The others?” you answer, making careful sure not to sneer. “Are you suggesting that I’m–”

“Charming?” Heejin rises from her seat, and her hair swings behind her shoulders as she meanders about the room. “Oh, I’m declaring it. It’s not a subject for debate.”

When she finds a spot to lean against the table beside you, her skirt hikes itself just a few noticeable inches. You’re not trying to stare, but she is right there.

Okay, so you’re fucking staring. When it’s clear that you are, you drop your eyes immediately, starting over at the floor - you’re unsure what to make of it. Her boots jump out immediately, these black knee-high things with just enough of a heel to let her stand a little taller than your shoulders. Beyond them is the dress that’s tinier than she is: vermillion - not red - and hung tight around her frame, gaping perfectly to present her thighs and chest like they ever needed introduction. Follow her collarbones, the delicate skin on her neck, the bold red lipstick she decided would compliment the bow in hair like she’s some present waiting to be unwrapped, and yeah, okay, she’s cute.

You’d have perhaps made a mental note of how unconventional it was for her now to be looking down at you, arms crossed and smile slanting, but, she also just manages to plainly ask if you’re seeing anyone, so there’s little time to dwell on that transgression - and all with the casualness someone might ask how much snow that approaching storm was supposed to bring tonight. In nearly the same breath, she asks if you were holding onto any of those numbers girls handed you when you went out drinking. It’s confounding and it’s your head space and it’s rapidly becoming preoccupied and littered and busy.

"That surprises me," Heejin tells you upon hearing that it’s complicated. "I figured it’d be rather straightforward. What all with a smile like yours. And an ass like that—"

"You’re flirting with me."

Doesn’t matter that it’s so obvious you could’ve seen it from space - everything comes to a screeching halt after the words fall out of your mouth. 

You tilt your head, quizzical. 

Heejin’s chin cocks, ready to fire. "And what? Is that some sort of crime?"

It’s honestly hard to believe. She tosses you the question, recklessly unaware that doing that thing she does where she simply exists is almost criminal. Thoroughly disinterested in the fact you were having plenty enough trouble keeping your focus from sinking into the neckline of her dress. You watch her blink slowly while you struggle to get out ahead of this, and it has her discovering that smile again. “Oh. And I wouldn’t write any of this down either. You know, if I were you.”

Your hand must know how deceitful it sounds because it’s covering your mouth, trying to mask the words curling off your tongue:

“Look, I - Here’s the thing… you know it’s completely unprofessional.”

Heejin smirks, pointedly, like she’s recognizing something on your face that confirms each and every one of her suspicions. 

Okay, you were trying to act nonchalant, but all the mistakes keep adding up - have added up - gazing at her gentle, focused features long enough that you might inscribe them in your mind as something to hold onto when you walk out of this meeting.

“Hand me your notepad.” Heejin pushes her hand in front of you, expectantly. “The pen.”

You watch her lashes nearly fall onto her cheeks as her eyes dip into the lined paper, and then it’s just the sound of the pen. Scribbling.

-

If you're going to consider that the bare minimum requirements of your job probably forbids undressing in a random meeting room in the middle of a workday, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the rest of the interview unfolds without incident. 

(Albeit woefully precarious.) 

Here’s what you learn:

Heejin’s life isn’t terribly interesting, at least the parts you can write about without fear of starting fires in the streets. The backstory has all these parallels you’ve come to expect. She’s the youngest of three girls, and you figure that’s where all the confidence comes from, if it isn’t the fact that she’s the kind of beautiful that inspires all this admiration and reverence and adoration to the point where it has people tripping over her. 

Her flatmates are apparently storied in their own sort of fucked up ways, and as she described them, you quickly realized that none of it would be able to fit into a publication like yours. Not that you’d stop the train of thought: Yeojin - a hopeless romantic - and Haseul - a total fucking golddigger - who were well on their way to fuck half the city at their current pace (you’re paraphrasing here).

So with that, you’re writing. The doc is completely blank, and you’ve deleted the first sentence god knows how many times, but you’re writing.

Heejin had mentioned she was taking piano lessons and music theory classes, but had piqued more of your interest when she opened up about a novel she was working on: “It’s fiction, and it’s about two lovers slowly growing apart.” She shrugged her shoulders when you asked if it had a happy ending and refused to go any further into it when you brought it up again (twice), but that’s more or less how these things usually go.

You double back to your notes where Heejin’s phone number is written neatly at the top with little hearts trailing off the last digit. Only it does little if any to help inspire the kind of creativity you need to do your job - inspire any thoughts beyond the way her dress tapered in at her tiny waist, how you’re pretty sure you could reach both hands around it and how light she’d be in your arms.

You should call her, springs immediately to the front of your thoughts.

And that’s how you know it’s bad. Something worth some sort of concern.

Oh sure, you’ve had a crush before - when you were the age where hormones were reeling through your body and had you, like a good portion of the world, needing someone to hump like a dog in heat. Fast forward to when you lost your V-card to the girl you’d been pining over for years and it failed to give you superpowers, you figured it was best to put your time and effort into anything else. You can relax, take it slow, get your work done, stop thinking about it.

Monday, you decide. 

She probably has plans this weekend anyway, and that is the rule isn’t it? Three days ought to give you enough suspense and pretense to illustrate that you’re not hopelessly fixed on the idea of pulling Heejin’s dress up around that fucking waist and hoisting her onto your kitchen counter where you could really just give it to her.

You tap your pen against your desk. 

Monday.

-

5:00 p.m. rolls around. 

You call.

The phone rings one too many times, and you’re within inches from just simply hanging up before you hear her speak. You actually jump a little in your seat and your knees smack into the bottom of your desk when you do.

“I thought it was completely unprofessional. You said that.”

“Yeah, well the clock hits 5:00 and maybe I’m having second thoughts.”

There's some idle chit-chat, nothing special while you both circle around the obvious.

“Know any good Thai places? I’ve been pretty in the mood lately,” Heejin’s voice comes through as the pieces begin falling way too easily into place. 

“I mean there’s plenty to choose from downtown,” you say as you pinch the neck of the lamp on your desk, still bobbing in place after you’d knocked it out of balance, “or one of those pretentious places that keep popping up in the old public market.”

“No, I mean, the editorial shoot ran a little late so I’m still here.”

“At the office?”

“Yeah. Hey - you know the photographer that goes around calling everyone boss? He’s, like, a total flirt by the way.”

“Trust me.” You laugh out loud. “That’s not the first I've heard of that. Pretty sure he’s even tried to hit on me a couple times.”

“Ugh,” she says, feigning all this disappointment, and it has you picturing how you’d seen her earlier pull in her shoulders so tightly as if to shrug with maximum effort, “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Your phone is cradled between your neck and shoulder as you scour the internet for something in walking distance - someplace that you don’t expect to see half your coworkers drinking away their Friday evenings - when you ask, “You give him your number too?”

There’s a brief silence on Heejin’s end of the line, only slightly unceasing. “I thought about it.”

“Sounds like you’re done thinking about it.”

“Guess I figured you might benefit from the head start.”

“Generous.” It earns something like a chuckle out of both of you, and you're shaking your head, answering, “I’ll be sure to pay it forward.”

-

Oh, it’s a terrible date.

Neither of you are anywhere so brash to explicitly say that, but look, it just so happens to be your job - splitting out truth from reality. You’ll call it how you see it.

Honestly, it’s a comedy of errors, but the real kicker is that the kitchen forgot to put in your order.

So, you’re trying, failing, to flag down your waiter, and you begin to notice the wine doubling its punches on an empty stomach when Heejin leans in across the table - one finger beside her temple and her other hand drawing circles around the rim of her empty glass.

“You know we could just… get out of here.”

It’s suggestive, but it’s hardly anything like a suggestion, because you’re right there with her.

-

Outside on the sidewalk you find the kind of snow that lands wet and heavy and threatens to soak through your clothes. And aside from a recent tire track or two, there’s a fresh blanket of it now on the asphalt. Every now and then, Heejin will flash her eyes over her shoulder as if to check and see if you’re still there, a footstep behind her. Like the sound of snow squeaking under your boots isn’t proof enough. 

“Okay,” says Heejin, in her unfailingly charming way, and trounces around in the snow in front of you, “so that was, like, the worst thing ever, right?”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen plenty worse. Trust me.”

She spins on her heel and you come close to knocking her over. “Sounds like you’ve got war stories.” “A few,” you start, laughing to yourself, “Here's one. This girl goes on and on telling me about the guy she just got out of a relationship with - and i’m sitting there thinking wow, this guy sounds a lot like a good buddy of mine.”

“And it was?”

You gesture slowly with your arms, something defeated and existential.

“Oof. That’s gold.” Heejin’s eyes flick to your lips, lingering however long it takes you to notice. She smiles, beaming. “But you know, with a little luck, I think someday you might just get it right.”

-

Heejin finds you somewhere in the harsh light of a streetlamp, fisting a hand into your collar. 

You’re watching snowflakes melt, like they were tears streaming down her cheeks, colliding against the warmth in her pale face - the vibrantly rosy hue now glowing across it.

Her lips aren’t dry or cracked or wind-bitten like you might expect in the middle of December. Your eyes trace them closely, these soft, featherlight things, and you don’t even realize how long you’ve been staring until she passes her tongue through them with an experimental lick.

“Oh,” she says, shockingly casual, “you’re into me.”

You’re laughing as your eyes return to hers. “You sound pretty confident about that.”

“Yeah. Guess I am.”

Heejin’s breath lands warm against your face. You’re simply suspended there for however many moments, the wool of your coats pressed together, watching lights glimmer and fade in her eyes. From this close you can count the odd freckle on her nose, her cheek. It’s probably the most intimate thing you’ve done in months, just standing there, breathing the same air.

Maybe ever.

Heejin doesn’t even say anything else, just looks, her eyes searching for something they might only find in yours.

“Hey,” finally says Heejin, in this choked, rasping voice, “you should kiss me.”

And you do.

-

Where are you two headed? The driver’s voice strains as if he’s been smoking religiously for twenty years. And from the way the cab smells - the stains in the upholstery on the ceiling - it’s as good a guess as any.

Once the door closes behind you and it shuts out all that wintery air, you lean in to where Heejiin is delicately removing the scarf around her shoulders. It’s yours and she’d wrapped it around herself twice, three times, and it made her look tiny. “Where do you want to go? Back to Hapjeong?” Her flat is in Hapjeong.

Heejin shakes her head. “How about we go find somewhere to grab a drink?” you ask.

She looks down, tracing her finger along her lower lip, and then lets her cheek collapse into her shoulder, eyes drifting back to you where you can see that myriad palette of golds and browns in her irises. “We can just keep drinking at your place, no?”

While you square away the details with the driver, Heejin folds her arms and closes her eyes, sinking into the back corner of the seat. Her silver earrings catch the light as the cabbie hits the meter and the taxi pulls away from the curb. Then it’s her dress, all that barely-there vermillion fabric, as if it had been tailor made to match the warmth in the back of the cab. Watching her, you come to a realization: there’s the story you’re writing, then there’s this story you’re living - all in want of a little inspiration. 

And you think maybe you’ve found it.

The taxi sways. Heejin talks. She talks about her life growing up. She talks about one of her sisters who is now in medical school and vomits at the sight of blood, how she was jealous that her siblings had turned out to be such brainy academic types - the kind of thing she imagined her parents were really secretly far prouder of - how she’d grown up fighting her dad tooth and nail to get where she is now - all these intimate details you doubt she’d shared often with anyone. Let alone someone she just met.

You listen - an occasional question every now and again woven into the soothe of Heejin’s lowered voice. And for the first time, you’re not scribbling out notes, building sentences as you do. Simply listen.

“You know,” Heejin starts, lidding her eyes and smirking in your direction. She could send a tremor through your heart, but she’s far less forceful than that. “I think it would be really rude.”

“What would?” you ask, confused. “If you spent the whole ride,” she pauses, and the elegant lines of her face scrunch ever so slightly while she fiddles with one of the featureless rings that rests on her middle finger. “–sitting over there.”

There’s a list of excuses, something to make it logical, but it’s never been quite this simple either.

You drifting across the backseat, until you feel yourself press up against Heejin’s lithe frame, and the rest of the world might as well melt away to nothing beyond than the blur of passing street lights, the hum of ‘Winter Wonderland’ coming out of the radio in crackling bits and pieces, the pink blush still staining Heejin’s cheeks.

Holding her, you kiss her again. 

Near effortless as before. Your lips stuck on hers when you pull yourself away.

"So, remind me to set the record straight with my publicist," Heejin murmurs in the same hushed voice she'd been speaking for the entire ride, thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles in a manner that could lead you to believe she wasn’t aware she was doing it. Her lips curl at the corners of your mouth where these short, hot breaths fill your proximity. "Just a little despicable."

With a hand finding purchase in her hair - bundling between your fingers as smooth and satiny as it looked - you pull Heejin into you, seize her lips. Hard. If there had been any restraint, to this point, about the shy touches on your arm when you made her laugh, to the light hand you’d place on the small of her back guiding her through a door - since the moment she sat down across you in that interview - this kiss now threatens to become near tidal in intensity.

Together, those soft lips sliding against yours, it’s irreverent, it’s reckless, it’s cashing in on that chasteness a thousand times over.

Still, you notice this departure from everything about Heejin. Because there’s nothing elegant about the way you have her, your bodies rucking desperately in the backseat - unable to give two fucks about smashed knees or hunched backs. It builds up. It falls apart. A mass of wool struggles to fall to the side, hung and stuck around your shoulders, and effortlessly sliding down hers. As your tongues slip and rub, this tantalizing push-pull that makes even the heat-dry air of the cab feel heavy like you’re wading through the humidity of summer, you doubt the efficacy of it all. But it’s the hand that arrives at the nape of your neck, kneading as though to say good enough so that you might start pressing more of your weight into her; simply sink into her embrace.

Heejin’s voice sneaks out between long, shivery, bone-deep kisses - the sound of your name lilting off her tongue, she whispers, “Hey. I want you to–”

“Yeah,” you pant, knowing exactly what she means. Your fingers twitch at your sides, all this anticipation currenting through your body that makes you feel like an exposed live wire, the electricity forcing your heart beat into something erratic. “Yes. Fuck. Of course.”

It has Heejin guiding you by the wrist. Down her side. The absolute concave flatness of her stomach. To the hem of her dress. And when she finally relinquishes your hand - your fingers - she kisses you harder, claiming the swell of your lip firmly in her possession.

It takes hardly any effort to find her - up that skirt and between her legs, growing hot and wet and needy. When your fingers collide with fabric, prints teasing across her entrance, she lets everything start to slip - a hiccup into your mouth, and shifting her weight gently in your hands.

This intense shudder travels through her entire body when your fingers dip down beneath the elastic hugging her waist. The kiss breaks. From those needy, watery eyes, there is little to lament - the way Heejin strains for air, holding her lip between her teeth as she lets a wet breath billow from her chest. Her lashes flutter, close tight, open again, and she looks at you, concealing the mirth in her smile. “Do you have any idea what I want to do with you?”

“I haven't the slightest clue,” you answer, flat and unamused, and you’re swirling your fingers against the wet heat between her legs as you continue to play a fool. “Tell me.”

“First I–” Heejin takes a deep breath and steadies herself when you fit the first knuckle of a finger inside her. “I want - fuck - I want you to sweep me off my feet. Literally, pick me up and carry me.”

“Okay, sure,” you say, like you haven’t been entertaining the thought all afternoon - like grabbing her and bending her over the first piece of furniture closest to your front door isn’t now the foremost thought racing through your head, “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

“Then you can take me and put me so tenderly into this big, cozy bed, all comfy and a little tipsy and there’s none of this - fuck. That, that feels really good–”

“Mhmm.” You’re half listening to the curses out of her mouth, how her voice hitches and sputters the moment you tent her underwear with your knuckles - the air she sucks in when you tease the sensitive nub between her lips. Between kisses that drag your lips all along her delicate jaw, the bruisable skin on her neck, you whisper, “I’m listening.”

The look of need and want in Heejin’s irises is a mirror of your own. And, just once, it’s a gentle touch that makes her keen. It’s debauched, it’s something glorious, the sound sneaking past her lips. You hear it. The driver definitely hears it; he’s turning up the radio.

“Fucking–” She laughs into the dark, voice strained and breaking at the pressure against her clit. Her mouth slants at the rhythm now in your fingers - motions that make her optimistic, and her lips part again, continuing:

“I’m not knee deep in snow and it’s warm and you’re there, just cuddled next me–” 

Heejin squirms again, interrupted; you’ve got her pussy creaming and tensing all over your finger.

Windows fogged, bodies digging deeper into the dark corner of the taxi, you study Heejin closely. Think about getting her off right there, about getting your fingers deep inside her and thumbing her clit until she’s shaking against you, about her cumming like that, back arching off the seat and ankles hooking around you.

It’s nearly tangible, the thought; her eyes flare and her chest heaves the more you fuck her slicked cunt with your fingers.

Heejin swallows. “And then - you start to undress me.”

It's been something akin to a virtue, and oft to your benefit, you’ve always been a good listener, so your fingers make course to slow, consider remorse, and continue on with only those gentle motions that keep Heejin’s eyes half-lidded and breath short. Nothing more.

“I do?”

“Yeah.” Heejin nods - even your vanishing touches driving her crazy, putting all this stress into the simple and composed features on her face. “Little by little. So delicate, like you - fuck.” You drag your finger back, grown wet and sticky. Let her finish the thought. “Like you’re unwrapping a present.”

Chin shooting up, you quip, “What if I’m the kind of person that tears wrapping paper to shreds?” 

“Yeah,” Heejin chokes out, “that’ll work too. But either way, then I’m laying there, kinda spacing out, practically naked and feeling really hot and soft and then I realize what you’re doing, dragging my panties down my thighs. I yell out ‘Wait don’t! I just met you and I’m very sincere about these things, so please stop!’”

“Oh.” 

“But here’s the thing: you don’t stop.”

“I would stop though.”

“I mean sure. Never mind that. It’s just how I’m imagining it.” 

“I see.”

“So then you don’t even hesitate. Just slide your pants down, pull out your cock” - the cabbie clears his throat from the front seat like he’s trying to start a lawnmower, but Heejin powers right through the thought - “and it’s just hanging there, bouncing. And it’s huge. So then I start telling you ‘No, you can’t, I’ve never done anything like this before.’”

“But you have.”

“Look, I just… this is just my fantasy. So then you end up–”

Okay, so it’s not virtue that got you here; your fingers are toying in her cunt. You can’t help it.

“Mnph, yeah - Jesus, okay, that feels good,” she whines, sneaking her hips toward you when you start to slide your slicked thumb all over her clit.

There’s a moment where her lips part, where she doesn’t speak anything at all, before she can steel herself and labor on with her point.

“Y-you end up wearing this really put out face, and I start to feel sorry for you and I’m - stroking your hair - while your head… while your head is in my lap, saying, ‘it’s okay, it’s okay.’”

“And that’s what you want to do with me.”

Heejin shudders as your fingers seek refuge deeper in her cunt. “Right.”

“This is what you want to do right now?”

“Yeah. Well, sorta.” She twists her lip before letting this wide, giggling grin fill out her pretty face. “Right now, what I really want” - you watch her gulp down another heavy swallow - “I really just want to cum on your fingers.”

It’s simple. You’re not far from your apartment, though the car gets stopped at every light, and even when it isn’t, it’s slow going on the fresh layer of sleet now troubling the roads - but it’s not like it at all has you taking your time. Heejin mewls slightly, and then she simply comes undone, gasping. Your whole hand is buried in her underwear, your fingers fucking fast and slick into her cunt, thumb mercilessly brushing around her clit.

“Oh my god,” Heejin whines into the palm of your hand, shutting her eyes tight as she sinks against you, sinks into the corner of the seat.

You’re hitting her basest desires with fingers that are all but destined to make her fall apart; straightforward, effortless, a perfect balance of touches light and heavy and destructive, you bottle lightning. 

“Mmmph,” Heejin whimpers.

Her back arches when she cums. With all these ragged whimpers leaking out from the spaces between your fingers. They’re inaudible, sort of. The radio is blasting. The same damn song even. Stars align, and while Heejin gazes into them - into the blackness that can only be found behind clenched eyelids - it’s simple: you kiss her hard again.

-

The two of you don’t fall into bed immediately. Not in the literal sense.

Heejin first gets her hands on you when you’re both standing in the elevator, quietly and mostly still, boots leaving gray puddling footprints on the floor. She looks like she’d been through a windstorm, and to some extent she had, but it’s mostly a direct result of your hands in her hair, your tongue in her mouth, the fact that you had her panting and sweating in the back of that taxi.

You’d had the quiet pleasure of watching Heejin’s legs wobble from the moment you spilled out onto the curb. Where she rested her face on your shoulder, pulled tight at the lapels of her coat like it might ever keep these gusts of snow-laden wind from freezing the skin around her eyes, and without saying anything at all, managed to demand your arm around her waist.

So, once the elevator doors close, and you’re feeling that temporary frost in your bones begin to thaw the further Heejin melts her weight into your side, it’s only natural: pull her into you, bury her nose into your collar.

You kiss her forehead.

In something close to reciprocity, she reaches a hand over your pants and grabs your cock.

“You’re, like, super hard,” her voice hushes into your chest, really leaning on that low, smoky tone. “You know that?”

“And what? I suppose that’s such a crime?”

“Maybe.” Heejin turns up to meet you, eyes glinting atop this expression - innocence feigned doesn’t even begin to do it justice - and balling up the collar of your shirt in her fingers. Bright eyed, knowing, she nudges into your side. “Just tell me what it is you’re thinking about.”

“Take a guess,” you say, running your hand through your hair. Like the nonchalance might make it less obvious you have this mental image, photographically vivid, of fucking Heejin’s tight body right into the wall of your foyer.

“Oooh.” Her eyebrows arched high, she looks you up and down, nodding while mischief skitters across her angelic features. “How many guesses do I get?”

“Three,” you answer. Then start grinning. “No. Two.”

“Two?��� Heejin slides closer, her eyes hot. “That’s hardly anything charitable.”

“I have faith in you,” you say, and you’re reaching into her coat, finding the divot that runs down her back, where you can trace a finger up this zipper that you’re not entirely sure you can refrain from unfastening the moment you feel it’s metal shape between your fingertips.

Against your face, Heejin gives this small puff of amused laughter. “Okay, you’re thinking about…”

While her voice lilts and trails, she taps a finger to her chin like she’s trying to solve some intricate physics problem or ponder the secrets of the universe. Though by this time, the elevator’s doors have stuttered open in the haphazard way they always manage and you’re both surging towards the deserted hallway, laughing quietly and brushing elbows.

“I don’t mean to pressure you or anything, but you’re going to run out of time to guess,” you say, a hand dug into the inside of your coat pocket and searching for your keys. Heejin’s leaning her shoulder into the doorframe when you catch her looking, staring - you only manage to slip out from under that gaze when you come up with your key at last. “Found it.”

Heejin tilts her head, hair falling halfway over her face, and then pulls it back again. “You’re thinking about kissing me.”

“Surprisingly tame,” you say, scoffing as you turn the key in the lock and shoulder into your front door. “But no. Not quite. Oh, and leave your boots in the hall.”

It’s that second guess, neither incorrect nor entirely the truth. When it does arrive off her tongue, you have Heejin pressed against the inside of your door, now shut and finally private, and her tiny body in your hands where it feels soft and slender and unfathomably hot - oh, do you have ideas. Her breath mixes with yours, concocting something that tastes entirely sinful before she leans forward and traces kisses up your throat.

“Still. You are thinking about my lips,” she whispers into your ear, and it’s dripping with confidence, with suggestion, with another humid breath that hits you square on your cheek, “how good they’re going to feel wrapped around your cock.”

She studies the knot that forms in your throat as you swallow, eyes flicking back up to yours, and burning hot when you tell her she’s right. Lying, all on account of you not having the heart to let her know that you’d been harboring this errant thought, that for a greater part of the day, you’d been thinking of how she might fold over the kitchen sink, the living room couch - wherever - and fucking her six ways to sunday. She runs her tongue across her lips, like it might keep back these small bits of breathless laughter. And it has her unzipping your pants, coaxing them clear off your waist.

Right, proper intentions, and she’s smiling like she knows it: you’re both paving a road straight to hell.

“Jesus. You’re so hard,” she says finally, and it’s so blatantly sexual that a foundational shiver in your bones takes hold of you. What are you to do? Her fingers are deep in your underwear, fighting elastic, pulling at the skin of your cock when she gives you a final kiss that sticks to your lips, smacking. And then without any words to accompany her, she pulls the fabric around your thighs and sinks to her knees.

If this were a different kind of story, maybe you would sweep her into your arms, and ride off into the sunset and find a cottage in the hills that overlooks the ocean and live happily ever after and raise a half dozen kids. Because surely, a girl like her - perfect and flawless and near regal in the way she carries herself, like something out of the pages of a fairytale - belongs anywhere but planted into the floor of your foyer, dragging your underwear down to your ankles. 

If Heejin was anywhere but her knees, perhaps you two would fall into bed, where you’d leave her with all these sweet kisses that make her skin swelter and her voice choke at the way you’d press your lips to the hollow of her neck, her shoulders, her collarbones, and you wouldn’t even think of leaving marks or bruises. No, instead she’d whimper softly for you and the two of you could roll over to meet that simple conclusion.

Sure, you can always pretend like you don’t know what’s happening.

But that would make it a different kind of story, one painfully absent of Heejin’s tongue, placing a slow, measured lick right up the slit of your cock. Or fingers claiming your shaft, your balls, and pumping delicately toward your waist. Rising action unlike this pair of soft lips that purse and leave kisses down your length. A climax beyond releasing a load right into the back of that throat - which is only speculative in your thoughts for a second, because Heejin’s tightening her fingers around the base of your cock and dragging a smirk across her pretty face, “you should, like, totally cum in my mouth.”

“Right,” you answer, mouth drying; it’s a labor to even swallow. 

Heejin runs a semicircle over her lower lip with her tongue, flattens it, presses it up against the belly of your cock, and looks up at you - eyes round like the angel she is, pupils dark as three am and every bit as impious. Oh, you’ll struggle enough with this story as it is.

“Fuck,” she says, one time, nearly breathless, and it almost sounds reverent, “I want it.”

Before you can get even a half decent reply forming on your lips, you watch Heejin’s jaw go slack, and sucking in a chestful of air, she seizes you deep in the warmth of her mouth.

There’s then a moment - excruciatingly drawn out - where Heejin sits near motionless, sinking further into the floorboards. Her lips are pressed tight into this seal around you as she takes it slow, a silent effort to become familiar with your taste, your shape.

A flutter of muscle between her cheeks, and the moment passes. Her lips relax, tighten, relax again before you feel her tongue. Sliding. Curling.

“I–” You sink forward against the door, abandoning whatever thought and allowing it to curdle into laughter, into this seedy moan that Heejin rips right out of your chest. Somewhere along the way, you’d figured that since you were more senior, more seasoned, more veteran in an industry full of girls whose looks might leave you for dead - girls who, with a little praise, and just the right amount of attention, would look up at you like you’d hung the stars, the moon and the sky - you figured Heejin would be in your hands, melting.

And then there it is, eager to point out your mistake: Heejin’s tongue, again. It slides delicately over your head, and when she sinks her lips further down your shaft, you can feel it narrow and tease at the base of your cock. Her eyes are closed, but you can see how they crescent, smiling undoubtedly in something like victory as she hums against you, delighted.

“Heejin,” you start, wanton, and you’ve got a fist in her hair, gentle in how you bundle it all between your fingers, experimental the way you push her mouth further into your hips. There are two delicate hands coiled around your slobber-covered cock in response - and then she starts to twist. You nearly fold and collapse and crumple under your own weight, gasping, “you’re killing me.”

Heejin raises her head from where she’s been hollowing her cheeks and covering you in her spit, vicious stick of precum staining her lips. Grins, because she knows.

“I am?”

You’re tipping your head back, sucking in your next breath. Bucking your hips into her fingers - all ten of them lathering spit and gingerly pumping your cock. Impossible to ignore, they brush and tease all the spots that send you reeling as though they were returning to something familiar, had done it a thousand times. You swallow, and Heejin’s eyes trace that quiver through your throat. 

When it becomes clear that you’re not really in a state conducive to banter or ribbing any longer - the clever words out of your mouth now amounting to nothing more than a few four letter ones - Heejin just smiles, sloppy sounds of her fingers twisting around your cock, and she falls back into that deep tone, “you look so hot like that, by the way.”

You sigh, defeated, bunch more of her hair into your fist. And after Heejin pushes a fingertip to your slit, pulling the skin of your cock tight around it, your breath hitches, shuddering at the sight of Heejin playing with your precum between her fingers.

“Can you imagine?” she asks, pressing you to her cheek, “how good this is going to feel inside me?”

“Heejin,” you groan, worrying a lip between your teeth at how her light hands pump up and down your length, the precum weeping from your tip providing her fingers with that much more hazard in their touch. Your voice is stuck to your throat for a moment, grasping, “I want your mouth - on me.”

“Mmm.” She again has her tongue on the underside of your cock, velvety and slippery around your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You can feel it. Just the hot breath tumbled from her lips onto you alone reduces you to a bundle of nerves and coiled muscle. “I want more.”

“More what?” she asks, mulish, and a smile sneaks into the shadowy corner of her mouth.

“More - you.” It’s hardly even half a whisper.

Heejin has this quirk in her lips that stretches slowly against the tip of your cock, and her hands trace up your thighs, grabbing tight to the back of your ass. She nuzzles against you, and looks up, “then go ahead. Take me.”

Oh, you’ve had a crush before. The kind of thing that had your heart and mind racing; the kind of thing that would swallow up your time for weeks if you let it. So when you’re looking, gazing, watching this masterclass in showmanship: Heejin’s lips parting around you, her eyes smoldering into yours - that’s when the realization hits. 

This is so much worse. You’re truly fucked.

Fingers thread tight into her hair, and you’re guiding Heejin’s mouth - hot and wet and perfect - onto your cock. Slow, measured, her lips slurp and seal. Near five-foot-nothing of pure sinful delight, and tossed locks of hair resting across her face where they shimmer in the darkness of your foyer, you slip your cock inside her. Press between those soft lips. It’s a voyage, enroute to heaven; then with your hips selfish and stealing more of that tight heat, it’ll be straight to hell. Inches, sliding and sinking, Heejin shuts her eyes and relaxes her muscles, jaw gone slack - grabs onto your thighs like you had any intention of being anywhere but the bottom of her throat.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and the next sound that comes out of you is practically a living thing, wild and animal and nothing close to voluntary. 

Heejin’s mouth hangs wide and laxed for you to use, lips paradoxically tight, as you fuck your length over her tongue and deep into her mouth.The very prospect of asking for more is gluttonous, wicked and immoral, but here you are: thrusting your hips into her pretty face, pulling firm on her hair to keep the heat of her throat wrapped up around you.

“Mngh,” Heejin’s throat chokes the further you feed your cock into her - drag it back and bury into her again - strangled and straining, you can see the flush that floods her cheeks, the teardrops on the end of her long dark lashes, the unbelievable smile still in her lips.

All bets are off.

The pretense, the coy teasing, all that skirting about this clear predisposition toward fucking eachother senseless is further pummeled and ground to dust every time the tip of your cockhead punches the back of Heejin’s throat. And even beyond all that, Heejin holds firm to this composure, almost this plussed look of gratitude as you bruise soft muscle and steal the air from her lungs.

“Oh my god, Heejin,” you say, back arching into the space over the top of Heejin’s face, holding her head tight and fucking yourself on her lips. “Your fucking mouth.”

Triumphant, gloating, smugly humming into the spit-drenched skin of your cock, Heejin must realize she has you exactly where she wants you, trapped, fated: that under no circumstance are you going to unsheathe yourself from her throat until you’ve exploded and glazed it proper. She traces her fingertips down your thighs and hovers them about the hem of her dress, this bunched and furled mess of fabric at her thighs, pulls her panties to the side, and you can hear it - her fingers finding purchase in the mess between her legs. 

You slide deep into her throat; she pushes two digits deep into her cunt; you’re both reduced to the basics, chests heaving out these small noises of frustration. It’s a behemoth struggle to even think, let alone coordinate said thoughts into anything resembling coherence - but the first thing that falls out of your mouth is born of sincerity.

“Fuck, Heejin, I… I’m going to cum.”

She nods, as best as she can, the length of your cock slotted deep into her throat. Any kind of concerns you may have harbored - all from fucking her face, and drawing small tears at the corners of her eyes - they evaporate the instant Heejin’s tongue reaches forward past her lips.

Just one lick, between your balls while she has your cock entirely inhaled, and it sends you careening off course, destination hardly unknown.

“I–” your voice fades. Because the tip of her nose is against your waist, her tongue is doing fucking everything - she’s killing you. It’s all coming down, you’re falling apart, breathing in fits and starts, fucking Heejin’s mouth hard enough that if you weren’t holding tight to her hair, you’d have thrown her off you.

“Heejin,” you growl, voice sliced to ribbons.

When you finish between her lips, every burst of cum that spills from your cock sends a tremor, twitching and quivering through Heejin’s lithe body, and then you can feel it in her throat, tightening around you. 

“Mmph.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, uncontrollable.

“Mmmmph.”

Heejin makes this impressive, maybe futile effort to swallow it all down. Laudable, admirable, you’ve got it correct about her: anything less than perfection is tantamount to abject failure. With that, she struggles, her eyelashes flutter, and a strangled sound escapes her throat - choking and sputtering as you keep cumming, more than she can ever hope to take. It floods her mouth and spills from her lips to unveil this shiny streak that rolls down onto her chin.

Even though you’re still gasping and shaking and reeling from your orgasm, you recognize those taps against your hips immediately, how they beg for breath.

“Heejin, oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you say, horrified as it all starts to return to you, and when it does, you jump backward, unsheathing your cock from Heejin’s mouth. Gaze drawn to that profane mixture of spit and cum that follows lazily in its wake.

She waves her hand at you wildly, realizes the gesture is probably not the most reassuring thing she could’ve done, and instead holds up a finger as if to say give me a second as she catches her breath.

Coughing a handful times and wiping her mouth with the edge of her wrist, she slumps backward. Hits the door, face flush and eyes sharpened like daggers, pointed, ready to kill. And the moment she’s certain you’re lucid, present in the image in front of you - that you belong to her again - it becomes performative: the way she presents you her tongue, the space beneath it filled and drowned with your cum - how she swallows it, that dry knot traveling dramatically down her throat.

“Jesus, fuck,” she stammers out, the loss of composure only transient and fleeting, “not bad for two guesses.”

-

The first time you fuck your cum into Heejin’s cunt, you don’t anticipate it. If you’d been perhaps a kernel less distracted, a trifle less overwhelmed by the scorching slick between Heeijin’s legs, you might have had the pleasure of calling the shots.

But this is where you’re at, melting beneath it: all her porcelain skin spilling onto you and her hands firmly on your chest, nails like claws, claiming you as her own. 

She’d dragged you toward the sofa in your living room, made a one-off comment about how bad she needed you inside her and then kissed you hard. Of course, when you tumbled down into the cushions - still muddled in a half daze and caught off guard by the sheer pluckiness of it - Heejin had controlled the fall, making sure she was the one who landed on top.

“Look at you,” her voice is low, rasping, pitching when she crashes herself down onto you. Feels her pussy all full and creamed as she fucks herself with your cock. “Just relax, let me fuck you. You don’t have to do a thing.”

She has her ankles locked over your thighs, knees sinking into the cushions, and ardently rolls her hips, fucking your shaft - exceptionally sheened from her slick and every bit as hard - deep into her pussy. Hot, wet, unbelievably tight, it’s near immaculate. And it only grows unrighteous at the end of every frantic bounce from Heejin’s thighs. Because she’s tiny, legs muscled, abs chiseled to perfection - vivacious to the point of peril - and she’s riding you hard and fast and bringing you so near the proverbial edge that your fingerprints threaten to sear into her waist if not for the fabric of her dress twisted and stressing, surrogate in its place.

“Oh my fucking–slow down,” you breathe, fully enveloped by her heat. It has your nerves on fire, something wicked ablaze, begging for release, and with your teeth gnawing your lip, you throw your head back.

“Are you sure?” she says, and runs her hands through her hair. Hoists it off her shoulders, bundling it over head - the visual not particularly favorable to your condition. Her eyes dip across her cheeks and into yours when she decides to salt the wound. “This is slow.” 

“Heejin, I’m serious. You're going to make me..." you start, a final warning, and at the sight of you disappearing between her legs, you’re struggling, pleading, “I swear… fucking cum inside you.” 

Ruinous, pushing a callous boundary, she lifts herself up and seals your fate. 

“Fuck.”

This is how she gets you. Seats herself on you again, pussy slicked all over your cock and the tip of her tongue flirting in the shell of your ear, “I know.”

-

To what extent god will believe your account of these events - how much you believe, in relating the story, hot with lust and adrenaline and the hapless self-doubting confusion of a psychotic who knows what they saw and is still able to dismiss it - is not clear.

Because look, it’s not as though you were unaware that the power had gone out.

There was a noticeably loud crack of electrical disaster, and in an instant, the lights of your apartment, the delicate details of Heejin’s naked body in front of you, and even the incessant buzzing of the refrigerator motor - the very thing on which you could always rely to ruin the sanctity of silence - it all vanished.

It’d be pretty difficult to miss. 

Only, as it happened - mid stroke, thrusting deep into Heejin’s cunt and her tight body fucked flat into the cushions of the couch - finding the effort to care was simply a bridge too far.

It’s selfish, metastasizing into something wayward, playing the cards you’re dealt. Hands pushing Heejin’s tiny waist deeper into your furniture, and railing her reckless and abandoning all that teasing, the dirty talk - having finally managed to steal back control. It would take more than a force of nature to wrestle it away from you.

“Harder, please, harder,” Heejin rasps, seconds before you fuck her through her first orgasm. Her face sinks, voice flooded by the reality of your cock owning her tight cunt and vibrating through the cushion. “Yours, tell me - I’m yours.”

Without even thinking you do. Twice, punctuated each time by a sharp thrust of your hips into the perfect round of her ass. 

Mine, you say. And it has her absolutely keening.

Pressing yourself into her, your voice in her ear makes her quiver and whimper, like it was the one thing she needed most to help her cum. Heejin just nods, mouth stuck agape, when you call her a total cumslut - near imperceptible when she does, bathed only in the pale moonlight reflecting off all the snow and into your apartment. It’s not necessarily the limits of what you’ve done, what you’ve seen, what you’ve said, but you can see it from here.

“Is this what you want?” you ask, and you can taste all this pleasure coating each word off your tongue as you rail Heejin harder into the sofa, your cock sweltering in the fucked wet mess between her legs. Each time you bore into her, push her higher and higher, it fills her with ecstasy fit to burst. She moans, this foreign sound of depravity, and raises her hips slightly, shifts the angle - has you stabbing deeper, teasing, “do you want me to fuck you like the little cumslut you are?”

She nods again.

“Do you want me to fucking fill you up over and over again? Do you want to feel my cum in your tummy? You’re crying, practically sobbing, darling. All because you’re finally getting fucked and it’s all for me. Can you cum like this? Is my cock pounding your cunt enough for you? Or do you need me to use my fingers too?”

Heejin whines. Knocked down a peg, the realization hits, and it’s clear as day, leaking out of her mouth all filthy and depraved:

“Daddy, please.”

It’s almost unbelievable that this is how it will come together; you deep in her cunt and the soft, milky skin of her ass stained red from the sheer delight Heejin finds only at the end of an open palm. 

Biting ruthlessly into your cheek, you grip tighter to her waist, your other hand thread through her hair keeping her partially upright and ripping your name, curses, incoherence all from her mouth.  

“Then just be good for me, princess.” Your words are pointed, serrated, seeking to maim, to kill -  near as dangerous as the fingers you reach around her hips on onto her soaked cunt. “I’m going to fuck this cunt, you can cum whenever you like - I don’t care - I’m going to keep using it until I’m finished. Until you beg me to fill it again.”

(Okay, so maybe you’re not abandoning the dirty talk. But here’s how you see it: tables always have a way of turning. You’re not seeking revenge or anything like that, it’s just that when it comes to karma, she always arrives right on time and ever more the unexpected.)

-

It takes a substantial amount of shuffling around in the dark to clean yourselves up. Heejin’s dress is irreparably stained, totally fucked; sweat, saliva, your cum, hers - the kind of shit you’d be afraid to ever see under a blacklight - and you’re standing there, exerting just as considerable restraint to refrain from simply pinning Heejin against your closet door and having another go at her as she’s changing out of it.

So together, you’re settling into the darkness, finding a reprieve from fucking each other within an inch of your lives.

From a pitcher in the refrigerator, you filled two glasses with water, handed one to Heejin.

She gulps it down almost immediately, and when you trade yours for hers, she sips it slowly, watching the boisterous storm outside the window. The silence that follows is warm, comfortable, welcome, sits over you like a heavy blanket. 

Every ten minutes or so, an emergency vehicle making slow progress through accumulated layers of ice and snow will illuminate the inside of your apartment with its bright hazard lights. And it’s only in that brief spill of yellow and orange through the window pane where you can see Heejin clearly. 

Around her shoulders is a flannel shirt pulled off one of your hangers, buttons uneven and misaligned. When she had gotten her fingers to the final button and realized she was two short, she just shrugged and let the clothing drape skewed and diagonal over her tiny frame, sleeves hanging far off the end of her wrists. She managed to tie back this loose ponytail with a binder clip she found in your kitchen and it lets you study all the details of her face - without having to run your hand through her hair and hold it back: features elegant and simple, regal and composed, eyes brilliant and gorgeous. The kind of beauty that righteously demands a team of photographers poised for a perfect shot; she tilts her chin, puts a hint of suggestion in her lips, and they scramble to find the next one, all with the desperate intensity of a starving man gnawing at a bone. 

“God. You’re really pretty,” you say, and only when it hits your ears do you realize it came out of your mouth.  

Heejin just smiles, all genuine and natural. Points at the flashlight in your hand. “I think you’d get more light from a cigarette lighter.”

“Fuck, I know, I don’t have any more batteries.” You slap your flashlight against your palm, optimistic. 

Not much more than a dull, pathetic glow escapes its lens.

“Maybe you can steal them from something else?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you answer, “but everything just plugs into the wall these days, what all even still uses batteries?”

“If we were at my apartment, I’d just go take them out of Yeojin’s–”

She pauses, raises an eyebrow and twists her mouth cautiously, sinking into the sofa next to you. Finds your arm around her and folds her legs beneath her into something considerably more compact. 

“Flashlight?” you ask, trying not to grin and sneer, “one of those flashlights with three speed settings?”

A single strand of hair falls in front of Heejin’s face. She blows it away and it stubbornly falls back into the exact same spot on her cheek.

“Promise me you won't write about this. It’s just… I have to tell someone.” 

“My lips are sealed,” you tell her, with the unwavering confidence of someone she could trust - which pragmatically you aren’t, but you’re both looking past all that.

“So this box arrives in the mail one day, right,” Heejin starts, pulling a blanket over herself, “And Yeojin sprints from her room, to the door, back to her room again, so fast that Haseul’s barely finished flipping the page of her book when it all happens. She’s already so small that you blink and you miss her, and in a lot of ways that’s what happened.”

“So she’s back in her room, with the vibrator.”

“Hold on,” Heejin says, tucking her feet into the blanket. “So we’re sitting there in the living room; I’m texting someone, Haseul’s reading something - I can’t remember what, but probably some cheap parlor romance - and that’s when we start to hear it.”

“The vibrator.”

“No,” Heejin says, flicking her eyes back to yours again, “the moaning.”

“Of course.”

“Now, I’m not saying… Look, there’s nothing wrong with masturbation. What’s greater than having sex with the person you love most, right? That’s what I always say.”

“You always say that?”

“It’s a figure of speech, you smartass. Anyway, we’re both sitting there, trying our best to ignore it, but it’s hard because this city’s built on a fault line, and they build these places so cheap so that they can tear them down and start over again without thinking about it, so the walls are, like, paper thin, and then after a while, Yeojin just starts wailing. I’m not kidding, it sounded like someone was trying to kill her.”

“I mean, in a way.”

“Right.” Heejin nods, brows furrowed and letting the memory come back to her, “I look up at Haseul, and she just goes about her business reading on about the adventures of some lovable-probably-clumsy-pretty-but-not-too-pretty-girl meeting the billionaire of her dreams and having all this weird, freaky, earth-shattering sex or something - she doesn’t even say a word.”

“And what exactly is she supposed to say?” you ask, “hey, what’s that noise?”

“That would’ve been better than just sitting in there in silence! Ugh, honestly, the woman’s always got a chip on her shoulder about this kind of stuff. Like, she’ll show up on a Sunday morning, and her knees are bowed and still fucking wobbling (so you know she’s been getting it good. All that irreverent, mind-blowing sex), and she’ll still have the audacity to look at us all judgmental for not going to church or maybe because we’re coming home still wearing last night’s dresses and heels.”

By this point, you notice Heejin has committed fully - with neither shame nor remorse - to stealing your blanket.

“So, I swear to god, I’m going crazy. Haseul’s just sitting there, and I can’t stop listening to Yeojin sobbing and gasping like she’s getting the best fuck of her life, and it’s this thought that grows and grows and grows in my head. I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it. And then, every bit as sudden as it started, it just stops.”

“Good for Yeojin, I suppose.”

“Right,” Heejin says, gesturing with her hand, defeated. “When she finally comes out of her room, her face is so so so red. Like, it looks like the end of a girl’s night out - after we’ve cut her off for the night, and after she’s cried and cried about some cute boy at the bar missing all her patented mixed signals.” Heejin takes a brief look at you, then back out the window, and puffs a small breath out of her chest. “The only thing I can even think at that point is, Jesus, I need to get my hands on that thing.”

“Do you?”

Heejin holds her finger up like she’s scolding your impatience. “So fast forward a few days, I’m digging through Yeojin’s closet when nobody’s home - and let me tell you, it’s like deep space in there, things go in and disappear forever; the other day I heard Sandra Bullock hollering from inside - but eventually, by the grace of god, I find it.”

“The vibrator.”

“The vibrator,” Heejin finally repeats, “This toy is silver, and looks about what you’d expect: like Steve Jobs was tasked with designing a banana. Beyond that, it was so complicated I almost didn’t even use it. Oh, and it wasn’t anything discreet either; there was this light that flashed when you turned it on and it practically lit up the whole room, these O-shaped strobing signals you could use to direct incoming flights at an airport.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t need to steal the batteries,” you suggest, and it makes a smile grow into the corners of Heejin’s mouth. “How’d it go?”

“With the vibrator?” Heejin puts her finger to lip, tracing it in thought. “I mean incredible, game-changing.”

“Better than just now?”

“Different.”

“It’s okay, it’s the twenty-first century, I’m not going to try and compete with a machine here–”

“Different,” Heejin repeats sternly, and you’re willing to drop it. “Come on by sometime when no one’s home and I’ll show you.”

-

“It’s really coming down,” you say once as you gaze into the storm, somewhere in the hours of the night that belong to no one.

Heejin slips further into your shoulder, eyes off the darkness out the window, the snow whipping across its face, looking up at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world. “Wonder how long it’ll take for them to remove all this mess from the rails.”

“I’m no expert,” you answer, “could be days though.”

“Bummer,” Heejin says, lips forming a kiss onto your collarbone.

-

“Are you sure you’ve used this thing before?” Heejin asks, resting on her elbows at the kitchen counter and blinking pensively at the French press in your hands. She looked on skeptically while you’d dug it out from a cupboard beneath the sink.

“Yeah, of course I have,” you tell her, exuding your finest false confidence as you run it back; the thing has been sitting in that cabinet collecting dust since you took it home as a white elephant gift almost a year ago. Shameful too, when you start to consider how much money you’ve spent at the coffee shops near your office and your apartment.

Heejin stares into her mug, her face lit by broken sunlight and still wearing that same perfected look. Only now it’s slightly different: hair tousled - rogue locks falling across her face and into the corner of her mouth where she could chew on it if she wanted - skin pale, the beauty mark on her cheekbone dotting her expressions like punctuation, a lack of sleep just beginning to shyly reveal itself beneath her eyes.

“I can see the coffee grounds in this.”

“You asked if I’ve used it, not that I knew what I was doing.”

Her lips curl back, smile huge, holding down either a laugh or a smirk - there’s no way to know - and finally rest atop the rim of the mug. “It’ll have to do.”

Only it doesn’t. Neither of you manage to make it through an entire cup, burnt, acrid, running on undrinkable.

That taste of bitterness lingers long after you’ve swallowed, and fills your mouth again when you press your lips to Heejin’s. She should be taking a cab to the station, should be boarding a train, should be trying to hide how fucked the bottom of her dress had become, should be looking at her roommates smug and gloating when she walks through the door. 

And you should be writing an article - about the girl you’ve seen wail and moan and sob on the end of your cock - who could just as easily turn it around, fuck you senseless like she has a knife at your throat. But this is borrowed time, an oddity, something like a glitch you figure, and you’re reaching under her thighs, pulling her into you like you’d simply hit an off switch on the responsibilities shadowed in your mind.

(You’re abandoning logic here because it’s the most natural thing in the world.)

There’s this reflexive quality to it, the way Heejin wraps her arms over your shoulders and legs around your waist as you lift her onto the counter. Sneaking into the space between long, soft kisses, she asks, grinning because she knows the answer, “If I'm stuck here, what are we going to do to pass the time?”

“I’m going to kiss you, probably.” Your answer comes before you find the shape of her impossibly narrow waist beneath an ocean of baggy fabric.

“Perfect,” Heejin says, voice carefree and charming and perfectly lilting, “and then what?”

“Then I’m going to get you all hot and wet and needy and you’re going to be begging for my cock.”

“You sound pretty confident about that.”

“Yeah. Guess I am,” you breathe into her neck, and it lands squarely on all this soft skin desperately in need of your lips.

She’s got a hand in your hair firm and grasping at you like she owns you - far less shy than the other at your waist, teasing the elastic of your shorts. “And then what?”

The wrong answer is anything that fails to mention ramming your cock in Heejin’s cunt or your face buried between her thighs and making her cum over and over. You laugh first, and then fail knowingly at the cross examination, “then I gotta get to work on that article, you know.”

Heejin lets out a sigh that could only ever be construed as disapproval. Palms the shape of your cock over your underwear. “Or.”

“Or,” you repeat. It’s her challenge. She can fill the space, continue the thought; you can’t get enough of hearing filth fall from her pretty lips while she looks at you all wide-eyed and perfect and like the princess you want to believe she is.

“You can take this cock of yours; the one I'm begging for right?” she says, fingers running down your underwear, rousing your length and finally cupping your balls. “You’re going to fuck me with it and fill me up with cum.”

“Cumslut.” It’s perplexingly endearing, and you brush your nose against hers, trace your thumb along her jaw, catch the swell of her lower lip on the tip of your finger.

Heejin smiles.

“Daddy,” she says almost cautiously, but immediately starts slipping these quiet little bits of laughter in the silence it creates. She’s yours, your hers, it’s all doomed and fated at this point, especially at this point - scribbled into cosmic law and her eyes holding you like they were made for the very purpose - you’re sure of it. “I’m not letting go of you until you fuck me.”

The heater has been off for hours, so the air in your apartment is frigid; simply getting out of bed was the kind of thing tibetan monks might do - walking across coals, self immolation, venturing out from beneath the warm covers in the morning, that kind of thing. And It has you perfectly content to take that bait in front of you, burying yourself deep in the scorching heat between her legs; turning her around, and doing it again. Making her cum like that and then letting your own orgasm drip out between her thighs.

“I’m not playing around,” Heejin says, having watched you laugh quietly to yourself about the absolute vice she has you in - and beyond the legs pulling you closer.

“One time,” you concede.

“Yeah.” Her hands pump your cock gingerly against your underwear, and Heejin agrees, “One time.”

It doesn't take long. You turn Heejin into this whimpering mess - her legs and hips suspended above the counter and ankles thrown over your shoulder. She falls apart, moaning still like it isn't slicing her voice to bits, all rasped and ruined, and you fuck her through her first orgasm. Her thighs shake and quiver while you fuck her through the second, railing into her cunt like it had insulted you.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Heejin pants, head rolling onto her shoulder, and her cheeks are so red you have to believe her. “Oh my god.”

She’d gotten only through half the buttons on her shirt before she became too cock-addled to figure out the rest, and it hangs ever so slightly off each of her dainty shoulders - agape enough for you to watch her small breasts jump every time you thrust into her.

Each long thrust into her heat has both your voices flooding, desperate. The way your thighs slap together all wet and raw only adds to the scene - this fucking filthy score of moans, curses, sex. It’s probably always been your instinct to pound like this: reckless, careless, selfish - and here Heejin is, begging for it.

“Go ahead,” she says, eyes lidded, still catching her breath, and it’s the most seductive thing you’ve ever heard, “I need you - fucking use me, fucking take me - need you to breed me.”

(It’s hot, you think. Maybe you’ll ask about it later. Maybe you won’t.)

So yeah, you cum. 

It’s one of those eye-clenching, blood-boiling, ear-ringing, teeth-gnashing orgasms that has you making a groan so inhuman, so broken and unbecoming, that it has Heejin laughing in response. She’s patting your sides, lips planted on your neck, cooing while your cock continues to ache and pump cum into her wet, fucked hole.

“What was that?” you ask, breath hitching and your body sinking into those light arms wrapped around you.

“What was what?” She’s got it so casual, so carefree, still so utterly charming - it makes you feel as though you were the one who’d said something out of place.

“Um. Don’t worry about it.”

-

Oh, it’s probably written in the stars, this mess between you, orbiting, circling, bound and tied: not even a half hour later, she leans over the sofa where you’ve set up with your laptop, kisses you once, and you’re reduced to nearly nothing but the kind of desire that will curdle into lust and threaten to eat you from the inside out should you refuse to yield to it.

“Really. I can’t. Not now.” It’s bravery or something. You’re lionhearted and incredible and you deserve a pat on the back.

Eyebrows knitted, she pouts at you when you explain once again that you have work to do, those pretty pink lips downturned into obvious disappointment, and you almost, very nearly give in.

-

Heejin pulls a book from your bookshelf four times, flips through it and rejects it, before finally settling on an architectural survey of Frank Lloyd Wright’s greatest hits (you’d also received that in a white elephant exchange).

There’s a photograph of Fallingwater on the front, and Heejin licks her fingers each time she turns the page.

She lands on the sofa next to you, lying long ways with her head resting on the padding of its arm, the same one you’d buried her face into less than twelve hours ago, and the two of you do technically manage to fit, only her feet cram into you and stab sharply into your thigh.

“You, uh, a big architecture person?” you ask, sparing a glance from your laptop to the girl nesting into the cushions beside you.

“Not in the slightest,” she answers, “I’m just bored to tears because someone would rather play with their computer than play with me.”

You give her a more pointed look, probably more akin to the attention those beautiful eyes of hers deserve. “I’m telling you: my editor will hang me from the rooftop if I don’t get this thing in her hands by Monday.” “That seems extreme.”

“Hey, that’s why she gets her salary and I get mine. I’m not paid willing to commit a murder money.”

She holds back a laugh, and leans forward, pulling her knees to her chest. “So what you’re saying is you’re a procrastinator, and I’m the one who gets to suffer for it.”

“Yeah, and you’re blameless after all.” You rake your fingers through your hair, running the past twenty-four hours through your head. “It doesn’t help that we’ve been at it like rabbits.”

“Like what?”

“Like rabbits.”

“Like what?” she asks again, this huge toothy grin stretching across her soft lips.

“Keep it up, go ahead,” you answer, shaking your head, “and who knows, you might just get what you’re asking for.”

-

When the power flicks back to life in your apartment, Heejin stands in the doorway to your living room and flips the wall switch off and on a few times. She has her hand on her chin, as though she’s musing and considering what all the value of electricity might bring - near a hundred of years of civilization now at her fingertips - and you have no idea that she’s about to rip you away from your work with four simple words:

“Wanna take a shower?”

You tilt your chin over the screen of your laptop, and logically, you reek of sex and sweat. Every now and again, you’ll scratch your nose or hold your hand over your mouth and you can still smell Heejin’s slick on you, stuck to you, its indomitable linger.

Heejin simply stares at you like she knows you're hers.

And if you’re thinking logically, you’re making progress faster than you expected on this article, words hitting the page and flowing freely. Logically, it would be near criminal for Heejin to be in your shower, her petite body all soapy, slippery and glistening, and you not there to see it, touch it, fuck it until she’s cumming and moaning your name and the sound of it echoing off all that tile–

“Yeah,” you say, clam-shelling your laptop and tossing it aside, “sure.”

-

There’s a certain quality about the renewed coyness, this sense of competitive playfulness, perhaps something diffident brewing between you, Heejin, and the four walls of your shower.

Leisurely, you both wash as though you’re not dying to jump one another's bones, like you’re both not reliving each and every orgasm on some sort of highlight reel played back through your thoughts.

Water falls to the ground in heavy spurts, loudly splashing after it pools and rolls off your bodies. And inside that cloud of steam, wrapped around you both like a blanket, Heejin catches you staring at her perfect figure just one too many times.

“I’m just cleaning,” Heejin says, voice grasping at its highest register, and she wraps her fingers around your cock. “So, you know, don’t get too excited.”

You’ll spin it around, turn on it’s head, get your fingers gliding along her slippery pussy all the same, and you’re right there with her, saying, “Right, just cleaning.”

“Imagine that.” Heejin’s pumping your shaft, perfecting it with this twist at the end that has you roused and ready and aching for more. “You spend all day, playing hard to get, and I just had to touch you?”

“Who says I’m going to fuck you?” you ask, a little too breathless, a little too obvious of a lie. Heejin presses forward and presses her lips to your chest, little kisses trailing across it.

“Fuck it, me, I’ll say it.” She wraps tight around the head of your cock, squeezing tight and making the water between her fingers squelch. “You’re going to fuck me. You’re going to press me up against this glass, and you’re going to fuck me.”

Heejin’s eyes light up when you smile, laugh because it’s true, and pull her up into your lips.

It’s not particularly a great kiss. It’s maybe a little too wet, far too much tongue, a little mean, but it sets the stage: when you’re cock is finally lined up between Heejin’s lips, teasing - relentless you might add - and her tiny body is pressed so hard into the glass that your only lament is that you can’t see how it looks from the other side.

You slowly enter her cunt, so slow it makes Heejin whine and groan, and you flirt your lips against her ear, “ask for it.”

“Fuck. Give it to me,” she spits, and you can feel her open wider for you when she does. “I need you to fuck me, please, please, fuck me. Or I swear–”

You never hear what’s on the end of that threat, because she doesn’t get the chance to tell you that you fucking better, that she’ll kill you if you don’t fill her up and make her cum, that it’s the literal end of the world if your hard cock isn’t buried so deep in her cunt that she sees stars.

She doesn't get the chance because you’re pushing into her, fast and hard and all at once.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” her voice shakes, curses starting to flow like you’d ruptured a vein. She turns her head, cheek flush with the shower door so that you can see how her eyelashes flutter every time a stroke hits hard against her ass.

It’s intense. It’s calculated. Passionate and uncontrollable. You’ve become so full of contradictions that it has you ready to burst, explosion imminent. You don’t even need to hold onto her hips, because she’s fucking you, jerking her hips back and forth and fucking herself full of your cock - liberating your hands to reach up her sides, gather soap and water and sweat beneath your fingerprints, hold tight to her firm breasts while you bury your face in the soft skin of her neck.

When she collapses to her knees, legs wobbling and pussy quivering off your cock, she doesn’t even say anything. Simply turns and takes you into her mouth, stroking and sucking you until you can’t take it, that fucking tongue reaching all over and spelling out your end–

“Yeah,” you croak, the word some sort of lifeline, a warning, “Heejin, I–”

She pulls you out, lips smacking, and with three words does more damage than you thought she was ever capable: 

“On my face.”

It only takes a few pumps from her hand, her tongue still harassing the belly of your cock, and when she flattens it, opens her mouth wide and ready for a mouthful of cum, she has you simply acting on instinct.

It’s certainly novel, what you’ve just done. It’s in her eyes, it’s on her cheeks, you fucking cum so hard there’s strands of it stuck in her hair and stained to the glass behind her.

“Jesus,” you say, rolling back into the stream of hot water, cleansing your soul of sweat, of cum, of sin, “I just came on your face.”

Heejin smiles, eyes shut like her life depends on it, and puts a hand out expectantly, “yeah, so give me a fucking washcloth.”

-

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really have any,” you tell Heejin in the breath after she’d asked you what your kinks are.

She leans forward, wipes at the steam covered mirror until you can see her reflection raising an eyebrow at you. “Really,” skeptical.

“I mean, seriously, is that really so hard to believe? I get off to pretty girls. You got me. What a villain I am.”

“Anal,” she says, turning to you and leaning against the vanity counter. Her face is still flushed and you can see the faint outlines of your palms and fingers on her chest, but she seems sincere about it - whatever it is.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about it?”

“About anal?” You set down your razor, towel off your face. “Sure, why not, but I’m not going to sit here and say it’s my kink.”

Heejin threads her fingers under your chin, along your jaw - admires the fleetingly smooth skin that she might only ever find at the end of a shave, and cocks her head. “Threesomes?”

You laugh at the question, the sheer absurdity of it. “Are you asking or inviting?”

She toys with her fingernail between her teeth before she answers, “asking.”

“Well it depends. Who’s in it?”

“Me,” Heejins says, and she’s got her brows quirked; settles this huge predatory grin into her expression. 

She holds her lips next to yours - never quite kisses them - wraps her arms around your neck, shuffles a little and moves so that she’s straddled between the counter and your waist. She shimmies her hips and you almost groan, because now you recognize it: that’s Heejin’s shimmy. The silly little thing she does whenever she’s asking for sex without having to ever actually say the words.

“It’s a promising start. Who else?”

“You,” she says, flatly a matter of fact.

“Mhmm, okay, maybe I'm in.”

“Honestly, more than anything...” Heejin’s voice trails, and her lips pucker. “I just want to see you buried in Haseul’s ass.”

“Okay then, maybe I’m back out.”

“Sleep on it maybe. Do you wanna know mine?

You recognize the caution filling your throat, and then promptly being neglected when you ask, “Is it breeding?” 

Heejin just smiles, laughs like it isn’t incriminating. Her lips come close to your earlobe, you think she’s going to lick it or bite it or god knows what, but somehow it’s worse:

“I just fucking love your cum.”

-

“Don’t you have somewhere to be–”

You’re not annoyed with her; it’s just that yesterday night was when the trains started moving again, and now it’s almost five o’clock on a Sunday and you’re wondering when this particular journey comes to an end, if it comes to an end. There should be a credit scroll, a fade to black, some sort of keystone to socket in place, you figure, and you’re asking what should be an obvious question.

“–or at least some place you can get yourself a proper pair of pants.”

Leaning over the back of the sofa, eyes scanning your laptop, Heejin ignores the question entirely.

Year of the Rabbit: Heejin, the girl next door, only farther away than next door.

Sometimes she’s blonde but dark at the roots, sometimes she’s tall but only with the help of certain shoes. She’s everything, anything she ever wants to be.

When she first sat down, she wandered into the interview like a second semester-senior, not only at ease with the system, but a little beyond it.

“Hold up, what the hell is this title?” she asks, pointing to the top of your document. “You’re so far up your own ass there’s even a colon right in the middle of it.”

“It’s a work in progress,” you say as you slouch into the sofa, “and besides, the beauty comes out in the edits.”

“I certainly hope so,” she says, worrying the corner of her lip between her teeth, and fixing her eyes back on you. “I was planning on staying for dinner.”

“Of course you were.”

-

You decide, possibly against your better judgment, to walk Heejin back to the train station.

Although the city had resurrected itself, like Lazarus after a party where the guests had run out of wine (you’re not totally sure about this one), and started to put all its miserable pieces back together, the sidewalks are still a total fucking mess. You’re both there trodding along, navigating through the absolute, dreadful shitslop of snow and dirt when Heejin asks, “You’ll call, yeah?”

“Sure,” you answer, like it was in your power to resist the very idea of it.

“Hey. After all, if you don’t, I know where you live.”

You point in the direction of the turnstiles. “Mildly threatening.”

“I could always wait in the bushes.”

You agree, tugging gently on a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “You absolutely could.”

[moonrazeeclipse]

Say My Name.

genre: bfh comeback. yes. "hello there", as obi-wan would say. dubcon?

♪: “Got that Sinatra look to you, so come fly me to the moon.”

You and Chaeyoung had been cuddling on the couch in her house’s living room all night, enjoying each other’s company and catching up on your favorite TV shows after being too busy for her after a long while. Like a really long while. Being Hyejoo’s boyfriend plus working at a pub, not only takes a lot of multitasking—but a damn lot of time too.

Because of such stress, you decided to take a leave for a day. Everything was going well. Chilling like a villain like what they say. Do they still say that? Oh, whatever. That said, all was well—until your lovely landlady gave an odd response to your confession that you were finally dating someone after the long “winter” you’ve had. She brushed her hand across your cock while trying to adjust her seated position, causing your body to react and you to let out a gasp. Chaeyoung had instantly picked up on your futile attempt to hide the tension you had towards her. Aroused, she chose to tease you further. “Noona, this isn’t r-right.” Chae scoffed your remark. “Why? Just cause you’re dating someone?” she ridiculed every second of your jolts and shivers from her touches.

“May I remind you, Hwang Kyung-fucking-wan. You said you are mine, thus you will always be. And I don’t give a fuck’s sake if you have a girl. I’ll fuck you up. You are mine! Mine! Fucking mine!” With a dark tone on her, you didn’t know what to expect. Chaeyoung slapped your face repeatedly, side to side. A maniacal laugh, lust-filled eyes. Did you expect that? Neither did anyone. You had no choice but to not fuck this up and let her be. Agreed?

Rested on top with lips on yours, she yanked your arms and wrapped it around her neck. You were red. Beet red.

“Just… don’t hurt me. Please.” you muttered quietly, not so much because you intended to keep your word, rather you were in grave fear to reject Chaeyoung in a state of hers like that. She grinned as she parted from your cheek, then to your neck, placing soft wet kisses all over your soft skin.

She lowered her hand down to your shorts, gently caressing the bulge to ease your tension while her lips remained on your neck. Albeit need seen from yourself, moans elicited, she could tell you were nervous despite your heated exterior. She felt it from the way your chest rose quickly to the way the goosebumps were beginning to form on your skin. 

Chaeyoung patted you on your side to signal for you to lift your hips so she could pull down your shorts, and you did as she asked. You didn’t want another slap nor to cause any further trouble. Once she had completely removed them, she just simply can’t take her eyes off of you and your hardness. Lust fueled her mind, having wanted to rip off your clothes and put you in right there. Driven so much by her hunger for you that she didn’t need no foreplay. She just wanted you.

Chaeyoung smiled as she ran his fingers delicately along your skin, over your thighs, and teasing your cock. Her fingers trailed around your sensitive parts, tickled it as much as she wanted to, while she maintained his eyes on yours the entire time - observing every one of your reactions. Her tiny fingers came to stop just by tip, waiting for one more sight of how sensitive you were before proceeding. All you could have done was nod. With a grin so devilish, she softly gripped your shaft.

She groaned at the sight of your tip leaking pre-cum, excruciatingly loud for you to hear. She brought her thumb to run along your shaft, lubing it up. She was fully immersed with you; your breathing grew heavy as you tried to relax at the feeling.

“You keep twitching by my hand and I’ve barely done anything but a handjob,” she snickered.

Your cheeks reddened at her continuous actions. You groaned as you relaxed your body, trying your best to enjoy the feeling amidst the knowledge of consequences that lie ahead.

“That’s it, darling. You’re so good for me,” Chaeyoung praised as her hand slowly picked up the pace. You had gotten used to this new 50/50 feeling, having let out faint gasps every time her hand change pace within certain intervals of her stroking you. You were still incredibly shy and were hesitant to let out anything more than quiet breaths of pleasure. 

Deciding to evoke more from you, Chaeyoung brought her face near your cock. All the while, she teased you with kisses on your tip. That and her hot breath added up to the particularly sensitive arousal you thought were already too much to handle. You moaned, the sound falling from your lips before you could stop it. Chaeyoung, of course, took notice of this. Her lips curved into a sneer as she slowly leaned in close to you, before having whispered into your ear.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this now. Aren’t you?” she cooed in your ear. “What happened to the innocent loyal boyfriend you were moments ago, hmm?”

You weren’t exactly sure why you chose to shake your head, but the motion seemed to come instinctively. “No? You’re not? Tell me to stop then.”

Chaeyoung chuckled at your lack of response as she started to quicken at speed faster than before, causing you to let out another loud moan of pleasure. As you became immersed in the sensation, your eyes began to roll back into your head.

“No, look at me, baby. I want you to remember this moment,” she spoke with her bloodshot eyes, fixed on you. “Every time you ever try to think about being with somebody else, I want you to think only of me and this fucking moment. You understand, my pretty boy?”

You struggled to make eye contact with her, took several moments for you to find her eyes from how hazy your vision was. Once you did, you finally took in the sight of Chaeyoung staring so hard at you - eyes brimming with lust, admiration, and power. You had no idea those emotions could coexist in the same woman, but here you were beneath after all.

“I want you to cum all over my fingers, baby. Say my name, while you’re at it. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, noona! I wanna cum for you, I just wanna be yours! I’m all Chaeyoung’s!”

Chaeyoung lowered her head beside yours, biting down on your earlobe while her thumb sloppily rubbed your tip with the rest of her hand speedily stroking you to your nearing end.

It’s not too long until she caused your orgasm to hit you at an overwhelming pleasurable height. At least, that’s what you assumed it was. But you had little time to think about, from blood flowing beneath all the way up to your head.

You were unsure of how loud your moans had become by this point, but Chaeyoung didn’t seem to care. She encouraged you through your orgasm, whispering phrases like “good job” and “that’s my boy” while you struggled to catch your breath. 

She looked up from the crook of your neck once you had relaxed, smiling to herself. Chae brought her fingers up to examine and have a closer look at your cum that had coated her petite fingers. 

“What a mess. What a waste.” You grew shy at her words, even more so when she decided to bring her sticky fingers up to her small mouth. Before you could open your mouth to protest, she was already sucking off your essence, sighing in satisfaction as she let your sperm hit her tongue. 

“So fucking sweet. Makes me want to taste you even more,” she groaned at your taste as her eyelids fluttered shut. You giggled awkwardly, assuming that Chae was only joking. You were quickly proven wrong once she reached over to swiftly pull your legs closer to her, making you yelp in surprise. Within seconds, Chaeyoung’s mouth was on your cock, tongue running flat lines along your shaft and circling it on your tip. Movements swift and eager, starved like never before. 

You whined as your hand gripped onto her blonde locks, subtly attempting to slow her down.

She hummed against your dick, not caring. The taste of you was addicting - she already knew even way back at your first encounter that she’d need to this more often. Your moans were euphoric to her ears, and your taste was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Having realized what you just got yourself into, you thought weren't that innocent already considering your prior rendezvous with Yeojin. But needless to say, whatever comes after, you weren’t ready for the hellbound guilt you were about to face.

—————— //: END.

Can you believe it? I'm back! But also at the same time, nope. ㅜㅜ Hi y'all. It's been a rough year for me (college is a bitch), and I just decided to drop something out of a re-emerging BFH-mixed holiday spirit lmao. I'm so glad I finally got to put out, by the very least, a part two for Chae x reader/Kyung-wan. I'll be frank, I'm losing creative juices to the very depths, but I'm glad I still have some.

That said, I might go back to lurking. Supporting my best buddies in the community as I used to. As for writing, it'll take some time to get my mojo back.

I'll see you cuties around, hope your December is going well so far! Ciao! xoxo.

[moonrazeeclipse]

A lonely night (Ive Yujin)

“I’m sorry, you seem like a nice guy, and I appreciate everything you did for me, but I’m not interested.”

And that was all she said.

The end.

Three dates, thousands spent, and a month pursuing her—completely invalidated within seconds by a single sentence.

As sweet and respectful as she sounded, the words fell from her lips like a volley aimed at the bullseye of your heart, and every hit was a perfect ten.

The blonde girl hides her beautiful, cold face behind blue metallic tints, not only closing the window of her car, but also the window between you and her. Her vehicle drives off, leaving you in the smoke of its exhaust pipes. You watch as she gradually disappears into the dark, taking your dashed hope along with her. 

At least this wasn’t a public incident, but a small, personal affair, conducted under the little orange light of the lone functioning street lamp.

You wait for the rain to fall, to cover the pain beneath a wet shower, like in all those movies, but it never comes. 

You’re ultimately left dry—like what she has done to you. 

When you realize that she’s not coming back, and neither will a miracle happen, you finally turn away, head lowered and utterly defeated.

As you walk the other way, ready to call it a day, the loud roar of an engine catches your attention. From the direction where the girl drove away comes a flash of light. You expect it to pass you by, but it surprisingly stops right before it jets past you.

You certainly didn’t order an Uber to pick you up tonight, and if this was your cab, it’s quite an expensive one. 

The door slides open from the driver’s side, and you’ve never felt happier to see someone—especially her.

“Hey!” Kim Gaeul approaches you with a wide, friendly smile and throws her arms out for a bear hug. You openly take in all of her warmth. Considering your present battered state, you really needed this. “You look sad. What happened?”

She looks at you with a gleam in her eyes, warm enough to thaw even the coldest of hearts. 

“I got rejected,” you say dejectedly, breaking off the hug to show the box of chocolates and flower in hand as proof. “She said no.”

Gaeul’s lips curl into a sympathetic frown, then her arms pull you back into her warm, comfortable embrace. “I’m sorry to hear about that. She seemed like a nice girl, too.” 

Bury your head on her shoulder and let more of your tears fall. She doesn’t need any further explaining; she understands how you feel right away. You’re not one to spill everything out, mostly to avoid shouldering others with your burdens (not even your parents can help, no matter how well intentioned they are), but with Gaeul, she knows exactly what to say, and what to do to uplift you whenever you’re down. She’s as close to perfect of a friend as she can be; she’s an angel incarnate.

“It’s okay; it’s okay.” She repeats these gentle whispers in your ear and it’s a hopeful message from God, delivered through His messenger: Don’t you worry, child; see heaven’s got a plan for you.

“We can talk more inside the car,” she adds, ending the quiet, solemn silence after a few more minutes of hugging. You hope time stopped right then and there, perhaps for a little, maybe all night—but she’s got places to be, and her own life to focus on. Even this brief relief to your pain is already more than a blessing. “Wanna come along? I’ve been invited somewhere and my friend says it’s okay to bring a friend. If you don’t want to, then that’s fine.”

Lucky for her, a few hours have opened up, considering the rejection ripped your planned schedule to shreds. “Sure. Fuck it, I got time.”

She flashes a beaming grin before turning to the expensive coupé, walking back to the driver’s side. “Great!” The passenger door swings upward; you expected a wave of smoke to emerge from the interior to add even more theatricality to an excessively flashy vehicle, but you digress.

From the dim, dying glow of the street lamp in the suburbs, you join your best friend inside a glorified light show disguised as a two-door supercar. You immediately become suspicious; she usually picks you up with a minivan. “Where’d you get this from?”

She giggles, cheekily. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

———

The car’s engine roar is the loudest thing in the area for miles. You swear you see a stretch of identical houses’ lights open in quick succession, presumably waking the peaceful community up. 

Why does everyone here sleep so early? It's only 8:30 p.m., according to your watch. 

“Goodness, Gel,” you say, pointing out the disturbance she’s making. She doesn’t reply back, only grinning in response from ear-to-ear. She’s not a troublemaker, nor is she foreign to this neighborhood; she lives a few blocks from your place and knows everyone around. It’s only after stopping at a red light when she finally turns her head to you, a pause from the blistering pace you’re going. 

“Gel, where’d you get this car from?” you ask again, lifting a curious eyebrow. She simply smiles, cheekily. Now you know something’s up; she never hides even intimate secrets like this.

“Can’t say,” she replies, puffing a cheek as her stare returns to the counter on the stop sign, waiting for the timer to hit zero. “I can only tell you that I’ve borrowed this car to pick you up.”

“Pick me up? So you were always going to pick me up tonight?”

“Yep. I didn’t even know you had a date today, but it looks like it doesn’t matter. Besides, if there were three of us, you’d have to carry that girl on your lap.”

“Hold on—” As more questions arise, the light flickers green, and the car accelerates past the sign, the sudden acceleration pushing you into your seat.

“Wait wait wait—” You yell repeatedly while Gaeul overtakes everything slower than 60 mph, showing no regard for the speed limit or her clean driver’s license. Your throat is being baited into a screaming contest with the powerful motor. “Whose car is this—”

“Not now!” She shakes her head while her eyes focus on the road. You’re likely to get labeled as an accomplice if you both end up toppling a lamp post and running over a cat, so you fall silent. Might as well settle in; the sooner you get to the destination, the better.

The car flies through a brief highway, then ascends curving mountain roads before eventually reaching a closed gate nestled distant from the city. A security cop approaches from a small guard shack; his gestures appear to demand the windows be opened, to which your friend complies with.

“Name?” The guard yells sternly. Gaeul gestures to the cop to approach her. She then proceeds to whisper something inaudible in his ear, like entering some secret hideout—you didn’t ask to be part of a cult or some puppet society with plans of world domination from the shadows.

In an almost robotic manner, the cop walks back to his little shack. The gate swings open, then she turns to you with a tiny smile. “Almost there,” she says calmly, as if to reassure you that it’s going to be a beautiful place.

“Yeah. Right.” Gulp your throat; your nervousness is clear in your voice. It’s unsettling how the road ahead narrows, fit for only one vehicle, while pairs of bright, blinding white lamps illuminate the ascending path forward. You anticipate a switch-up to await you at the end, where the passageway up to ‘paradise’ actually leads straight to hell. It stretches upward a little longer, until you arrive at a second, larger gate, this time without any security.

After a few minutes, the massive doorways slowly part. Beyond the entrance are several parked cars and an imposing building resting on even higher ground. Once your car’s settled inside, the gate closes with a loud thump, making you shudder. It doesn’t help your uneasiness one bit; the entire setup appears to be a kind of secret puppet society where only the elite are allowed.

A tighter passageway, with bright lamps placed parallel to each other, leads to the impressive structure. Your friend goes first while you follow her close by. Based on how far the parking is from the structure, this might take you the whole night to climb. No wonder she picked you up so early; both of you can watch the sun rise as you reach the top. 

“Gel, you have to tell me; what the hell is this?” Your voice echoes up to the sky as you ascend closer and closer to your final destination. The nearer it becomes, orange lights start to beam in all directions, and you start to hear different voices. 

“Okay, guess I should warn you now.” Gaeul stops walking to look back at you. “So, you’re right about that.”

“Right? So you mean the car—”

She nods. “Yep.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.” Your heart drops and you can’t help but roll your eyes when you realize you’ve been right all along. This is, in fact, the road to hell, and there’s no way of escape. You’re stuck.

“She asked me to invite you, and allowed me to  bring the car along as a way to convince you.” Gaeul pats you on the shoulder with a reassuring smile. 

“She can’t, and will never convince me of anything,” you retort. Your eyes flare up in agitation with the mere thought of her—how much more when you physically see her? “You know how much I fucking hate her.”

Okay, maybe hate is a little too much. Given your current state, your mind isn’t in the right headspace, and she was the last thing you wanted to see now. 

“Don’t be like that,” she says gently, caressing your face to calm you down. “She wouldn’t have asked me to bring you here if she didn’t want to see you for a reason.”

“You should have said no, Gel.” Your glare turns to Gaeul, devastated and betrayed that your close friend would side and help your enemy. “I thought you’re my friend, and I trusted you. Why her?”

“I am, but also I’m her friend too,” she says, her hand now intertwined with yours. “I’m not here to pick a side, but to be a good friend to everyone, and that means not only you, but also to her.”

Sigh. 

You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Gaeul’s one in a million, and a reason this petty should never be the cause of a future falling out. As harsh as it may sound, even if her voice is sweet and sincere, she’s completely right. Friends like her are really something, for better and for worse.

“Fine,” you reply, rolling your eyes a second time, then you let out a prolonged, disappointed grumble. “But I’m leaving as soon as there's an opportunity to get the hell out of here.”

She nods, beaming a wide grin and cute eye smile. 

—————

“I can’t do this—I really can’t—” You groan as you finally reach the top of the seemingly endless stairs, regretting your decision to power through with her request. Well intentioned she might be, you simply can’t stand the possibility of seeing her—not after what happened to you. When you take the steps down jokingly, her arm pulls you back up, reinforcing her stance.

“Hey, remember what I said,” she says, tugging your arm as you fruitlessly attempt to leave. She’s committed to her promise, and she might even die to uphold it till the end. You have to respect her persistence, even if it borders on stubbornness.

You sigh as you climb back the last step. “Okay, okay. Geez.”

Massive. That’s your first thought as the mansion towers right in front of you. You imagine this would be God’s residence from the heavens, where He and His Son would quietly watch the Earth beneath them. A beautiful garden sprawls ahead of it as wide as the eyes can see, full of different colored flowers and a gorgeous maze at the center where anyone can get lost in. As extravagant as this all looks, you can’t help but imagine her smug face when she sees you. She’s been to your house before, and how it’s a drop in the bucket compared to hers.

“Come on, she’s definitely out at the back,” says Gaeul, patting you on the shoulder to capture your attention. “Let’s go.”

Follow her around the side of the mansion, contemplating on how great the whole place is, how you’ll present yourself when you do see her, and what you’ll do to make a break for it as soon as possible. On the other end is a brightly lit pool. From a distance, you see people dive in, run around playing games, and hear cheers, screams, and laughs close by. Even her pool is no joke; it’s twice as large and wide as your own backyard. There’s more figures gathered inside a sizable gazebo beside the pool—and you immediately catch and recognize her in the midst of the commotion.

As fate would have it, she’s right there at your lowest points. She was never directly involved, but she was a constant eyewitness of your shortcomings. You believed her to be a harbinger of misfortune, a bad omen. After one fateful night, when things were a little too comfortable and she happened to be the only one left in the room with you, you’d loathe every single thing about her, to the point you refuse to say her very name. 

Her piercing gaze slides in your direction; you automatically look away, as if her eyes are Medusa incarnate. Nevermind the shout of your friend Gaeul immediately calling her out to greet her. She breaks off from the party and they run at each other, reunited with a hug and friendly kiss on the cheek.

“I brought him along too,” Gaeul says to her junior, tone brimming with energy. “Please be kind to him. He—he’s not in the best mood right now.”

“Of course, thank you Gaeul.” 

The younger woman breaks the hug to greet you. You continue to play dumb, refusing to acknowledge her, clinging to misplaced hope that she leaves you alone or plays along, like she’d usually do when it comes to her expensive, larger than life persona—she lived a double life as friend and celebrity, and you had no part in the latter. 

Then you hear her sultry, cute voice in your ear while her arms slither around your neck. “Hey sweetheart.” 

Oh God. As if things can’t get any worse, she refers to you by that name—when you were each other’s flames. Your facade gradually falls apart right before her, and your eyes capture little glimpses of her. Mental flashbacks of your short time together play in your head. She will never ever leave you alone, nor will she ever be only a mere memory.

Your tongue finally releases her name with near silence, and it’s like you casted a curse on yourself. 

“Ugh.” Your groan sounds hoarse, as if you’re being held in a harsh vise grip, which you clearly are. “Hello, Yujin.”

Her fingers press on your cheek, gently tilting your gaze right at hers. She’s a lot more restrained than normal; this is rare, out-of-character behavior from her. There’s normally some kind of jest or personal taunt whenever she greets you, but then again, Gaeul just told her about your emotional imbalance in advance, so perhaps she’s finally had a change of heart—

“Look who’s incredibly happy to see me,” she comments, sweetly, while playfully messing with the irate expression on your features. Welp, guess you spoke too soon. Her brows sharpen and her arrogant smirk widens; that’s her trademark confident attitude you do not miss a single bit. “I’m glad you’re here, and—Oh! You’ve got a present for me?” she continues amusingly, seeing the box of chocolates partially hidden in your shirt’s pocket. She frees you from her wrap, then snatches your gift, intended for someone else, now a present meant for her. 

“Thanks sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d bring any gifts, but yet you still remembered me. How thoughtful,” she scoffs, before walking back to the pool with your ‘present.’ So much for the brief hope you had for her. “Come along. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.”

There’s a hint of sincerity in her inflection, a dash of warmth that feels nostalgic, reminding you of fond, sweet memories, now tainted after that fateful night. Your heart’s turning back around—no, you can’t defect like that so easily. After what she’s done to you, making little of what you both had, and how she’s, by coincidence, present at your most recent failure, there’s no way she doesn't know. Hell, she may have intentionally planned this all along—there’s no such thing as a coincidence when it comes to An Yujin. It seems like a reach, and your wishy-washy emotions might be messing with your judgment, but she’s always been there, lurking in the shadows, watching your every move in secret after you went different ways. You had every right to be cautious around her.

On the other hand, you’d be fucking lying if you didn’t think she was so irresistably hot. Everything about Yujin made your heart race, both in good and bad ways. 

You keep a watchful eye on her while she interacts with the other guests. Only now do you properly take in her tantalizing appearance: matching white top and skirt, decked out in diamonds, accentuating her shapely backside, toned legs, and flawless figure. 

If only her personality was as perfect as her body. 

Nevertheless, against your own feelings, you oblige, and follow her to the pool party. It’s only a light affair, it’ll be over soon and she will send you home shortly—hopefully.

None of the guests at this party look familiar, nor do they draw your interest. They’re from Yujin’s social circle, completely separate from yours. They’re her friends from the industry, from variety, and from who knows where. You care little about them, and they’re too engrossed in good vibes to interact or even look at you. It’s a blessing in disguise; it’ll be an awkward experience if you attempt talking to them. You’re most likely the least exciting and interesting person in this gathering. 

Gaeul is sharing stories and laughs with other people at the gazebo. She spots you walking by and gestures to you to join her little company, which you follow. To your surprise, a seat remains unoccupied, perhaps being saved for you the entire time. Another girl in this circle hands a drink to your friend, who then passes it off to you. Even with the open invitation and high energy, you feel uncomfortable, like you’re not supposed to be here. Maybe that’s the purpose of the drink; to make you lighten up—but it’s what ultimately drove the wedge between you and Yujin.

“So, who’s this new man, Gel? I didn’t know you had a man!” Shouts the girl who passed the beverage to Gaeul, creating hearty laughter within the circle. She appears younger than both Gaeul and Yujin, and her foreign accent is distinct.

“C’mon Rei,” Gaeul replies, poking her in jest. “You know I have someone else. Speaking of—” Her fingers redirect themselves to you, as to make you speak. “Why don’t you tell them what happened tonight?”

Her comment almost makes you spit out your drink. If there was any further doubt, you really shouldn’t be here. The piqued interest from everyone in the gazebo, doubling down to make you spill the beans, doesn’t help your confidence, either. Their collective voices combine into a thunderous chant, their fists pumping, as if your words have some kind of clutch factor in the dying stages of a game. They don’t really know, nor will they care about how it’s affecting you right now. Gossip runs deep among friends, but certainly not among yours; this is a strange concept for you. 

You flash an awkward but friendly smile, stalling for time as their voices overbear on your awkward demeanor. The crowd of a dozen guests encircle you, not in protest, but to keep any possibility of escape from ever happening. It’s all too much for you to handle, and your mouth runs in every direction, almost ready to open and free you without a second thought.

The trigger ultimately pulls itself.

“I was dating someone and asked her if she wanted to be my girlfriend, but she—”

“Hey!” shouts Yujin from the outside, walking into the gazebo and attracting everyone’s eyes on her, including yours. “You guys are so loud, I can hear you from the other side of the pool! So, what’s going on here?”

“This guy was about to tell us what happened,” says Rei, feigning innocence. “Said he had a date tonight.”

“Date, huh?” Your little fling walks over to you, then wraps an arm around your shoulders. Her mouth babbles something inaudible while her eyebrows with interest. rise  A familiar air of discomfort returns to you. You certainly are the man of the hour in this gathering. 

Your eyes catch a glimpse of hers while she scans the guests from left to right. You see a tiny smirk form on her plump, cherry lips; what is she planning and what’s on her mind?

“I think we can have better conversations other than poking fun at broken hearts,” she declares to the crowd. She says it with confidence, as if she already knows what you were about to say right before you got interrupted. “Anyway, I have a little game for you all. Whoever can find my heels tucked away in the garden gets a huge cash prize from me! Who’s down?”

Her challenge is met with raucous cheers and deafening applause, with some even running out first to take her deal on without a start being officially signaled. The little simper on her lips becomes a poised smile; she really concocted a plan this quick. With monetary stakes on the line, the crowd disperses without another word, leaving you alone with Yujin.

She saved you. The devil became your angel.

“Hm, I guess money really talks,” she jests, then bursts into a fit of laughter, proud of herself for luring them out. You don’t think her comment is funny in the slightest; everything about her speaks of spoiled, privileged behavior, but you’re quietly glad she came to your rescue. 

“No need to thank me,” she continues, turning to you with that ever so familiar and annoying cocky grin. “Looks like you’re falling behind when I’m no longer around.”

A fire burns in your eyes, fueled by a spark of near-humiliation and anger. 

“Shut. It.”

“Why would I?” Yujin shrugs, her tone reflecting her arrogant, overconfident persona. Yujin always liked to keep you on your toes, and often spoke to you like you’re lesser than her. “Did you not see who saved your ass thirty seconds ago?”

Rise from your chair to meet her at her level. “Hey, I wouldn’t be here if Gaeul comforted me and persuaded me to come. You only want me here so I can be a punching bag to boost your fucking ego.” 

“And?” She raises an eyebrow, glances you from head to toe, and thoroughly examines your body language. She’s taken hundreds of glances at you, and she’s studied you completely, down to a cellular level. “That’s the point. These people don’t give a shit about you or me genuinely. They only want me because I’m fucking An Yujin. Did any of them ask about your name? I don’t think so.”

You never expected to reach this point again, even though you promised yourself you’d never allow it to happen after that fateful night. Same person, same attitude, but with different circumstances. You didn’t really bury her in a grave, more like kept her skeleton in the closet, occasionally taking peeks at it, until it reemerged by itself.

She tilts her head at an angle, asserting her boldness against you. “You’re lucky none of these people know about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our little secret.” 

Yujin grabs a cherry from the table, then presents for your eyes to see in a swinging, hypnotic motion. “Gosh, I wouldn’t mind though—the experience was so fucking good not to tell others about it, but you promised me to keep our thing behind closed doors. You should be thankful I’m no snitch.”

Your tongue growls lightly in response to her threat. Like a dog on guard you’re on edge, waiting for an opportunity to retaliate while she keeps her distance provoking you.  

“Yujin.”

“Hm?” She ogles the ripe cherry, takes a little bite, then returns her gaze to you. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“You know damn well I’m never gonna have sex with you again.” The words depart your mouth, sharp and intimidating, but she remains unfazed, unbothered. “I still can’t believe I lost my virginity to someone like you. You were never my sweetheart, so stop calling me that.”

Her grin widens once she hears that last part. What an honor for her to have made a huge mark in your personal life. She takes pride in that as much, if not more, than her many achievements as a celebrity. 

“And it’s quite the honor,” she says, walking out the gazebo. “Not many people get to have sex with the An Yujin.” Outside, she turns around to face you again with her trademark smirk, the one you can’t bear seeing. “Can’t lie, I still think about it everyday. I miss that,” she continues with a rare tone—a human one.

Even with a brief hint of sincerity in her voice, your hands still clench into fists while she returns to entertaining her guests, tone brimming with confidence, knowing she’s still living in your head rent-free.

—————

You’re standing on the porch of the backside of her mansion with a drink in hand, all alone and distant from the noisy party a few steps nearby. You try to stray your thoughts away from Yujin, but it’s mostly useless, since the only other thing occupying your mind besides her, is the girl’s rejection from earlier. It plays on loop in your head: her car driving away into the night, her words echoing in your brain, and the brief moments you shared with her, shattering into many pieces as you reminisce upon them.

“Hey,” shouts a familiar voice, prompting you to look for the source. It’s Gaeul, climbing up the steps, with her own drink in hand, to reach you. “I was looking everywhere for you! I thought you disappeared, but thank goodness you didn’t.”

You utter out a despondent groan; not even your own best friend can comfort you now, only liquor can. She’s more than welcome to try, though.

“So, how are you and Yujin—”

You lift a hand against her, cutting her off. Her very name is a trigger to you. 

“Right, I guess it didn’t work out then.” She lightly chuckles, trying to ease the mood, but to no avail. Half of your drink is gone, but you’ve already had a couple, and God forbid you dare reenter the party to grab another one. 

“Okay, umm—” Gaeul struggles to find a way to get a conversation going. Even best friends have limits, and there’s things that not even a strong bond like you and hers would like to open up about.

“I don’t want anything to do with Yujin. She’s ruining everything in my life, and I hate her so fucking much.” There isn’t a hint of hesitation or regret in your delivery, and perhaps it’s the effects of alcohol unshackling your restraints, but anyone can tell you truly despise her.

“Look, I get it,” says Gaeul, reaching her arm out to hold your shoulder. “She’s definitely something, yes, but she means well. I mean, why would she invite you here among our other friends? She never did that for—”

“She only wants me because I can boost her ego,” you spit. Your eyes are seeing blood at the thought of her once again. “Just look at what she did. Flexing her wealth cause she’s been to my house before, using you so she can invite me over to humiliate me in front of her ‘friends’—the list goes on and on.” 

“I don’t think she meant to hurt you—”

“She did. Everything she’s doing is intended to make me suffer.” Drink up the last of your beverage, then toss the glass to the ground without care. She won’t give a single fuck; it’s light change to replace one wineglass. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she paid that girl to reject me–Yes, she definitely paid her!”

“You’re getting too drunk,” comments Gaeul, worryingly, rubbing your shoulder as you enter a frenzied stage, but you brush her aside. “I think you need to stop drinking—”

“I’ll take it from here.” Another voice interjects, but you’re too caught up in your own delusion to recognize it. She mumbles something to your friend, something you can’t decipher. Then, Gaeul heads down the stairs, leaving you alone with her.

“Goddamit, Yujin,” you snarl at her. Even with all the confidence in the world, she’s initially taken aback by your sudden hostility. “You want to take my best friend too?”

“Of course not, dipshit,” she replies, holding her hands up to keep you from pouncing on her— or much, much worse. “She has no stake in this. Leave her alone.”

“You should be the one trying to leave her alone!” Point your finger at her like it’s your gun; even when it’s clearly not, she’s the one who’s causing all your problems. End of.

“Me? When all I’ve been is a good friend to her? What have you done for her anyway?” Her conceited expression and snarky inflection shift to a more agitated one to match yours. “All you do is cry on her shoulder and tell her all your problems!” 

“Shut up! You don’t know what happened!”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Yujin raises an eyebrow. “You were gonna tell them you tried getting with Yizhuo, until I saved you!”

Your eyes widen, and you fall back at her reply. She really knows everything, keeps up with you, and you’re more inclined to your belief that she’s a bad omen. 

“S-so, you’ve been—”

“I would never allow you to embarrass yourself like that, not in front of my friends,” says Yujin, strutting left and right in front of you. A very selfish goal, but one worth respecting. “Only I get that opportunity, hehe. And no, I didn’t pay her to lead you like that. Yizhuo really doesn’t like you.”

You’re undecided as to which part hurts more: the fact that Ning had zero interest in you the entire time, or the fact that it came from Yujin’s mouth.

“Yujin—”

“Now don’t act like you’re sorry, because I know you’re not.” Just when you assume she’s finally softening up, there’s that fucking smirk again, a million dollar smile. “Let me make it clear: Ning never gave a fuck about you.”

You grow silent, clenching your fists and lowering your head remorsefully. Tears fall from your eyes. In a rare moment of empathy, she approaches you with a concerned frown and gently wraps you in her arms. It’s not constricting or suffocating, but warm, affable, and tender.

“I still care, just in my own way,” she whispers in your ear. Her tone’s soft, calm, and very soothing; it’s been so long since she sounded like this. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just thought maybe coming here would make you feel better.”

Slowly, but surely, your heart is turning around to Yujin once more. Her touch is nostalgic and welcoming, timeless. Your thoughts of her become brighter as before—when things were simple and perfect. You promised you wouldn’t go back, but here she is, pulling you right back in.

“Let’s go inside,” she mumbles, looking over her shoulder at the party in the back while cupping your cheeks; they’re burning red, not from anger, but from warmth. “It’s getting loud out here anyway.”

—————

You’ve never been inside her mansion, only catching brief glimpses of it in pictures Yujin posts on her social media. Lights bounce everywhere in every direction due to all the diamonds and glass sculptures. You’ll go blind if you dare to look at your reflection; no wonder she can’t see every part of herself. Her ‘humble’ abode, as she sometimes captions, is decked out with furniture and appliances more expensive than your house. No wonder Yujin likes to tease and belittle you; if she wants, she can buy you and your entire family. 

“Drink?” she asks. It’s less of a question and more of a demand when she pulls out a bottle of unopened brandy, then pours it on a glass and leaves it on the bar table. Can’t say you’ll refuse; you look really desperate for anything to drown yourself with.

“Gosh, this is really like that night, huh?” she jests, giggling as you down the shot within seconds of it being offered. Both of you remember that night differently.

“Wrong,” you yell back, not with malice, but to banter. Your voices echo from room to room, invalidating her excuse that it’s a little too noisy. “I offered you the drink first.”

“The drink that I brought over,” she retorts, widely smiling and laughing as the two of you engage in a little game of cat and mouse. You both pass through different rooms, with you in the role of the worst cat ever, and she quickly hides herself from you as you struggle to catch her due to your tipsiness. Eventually, you decide to settle on a couch in another room, having given up after only a few minutes. She’s a whole maze in itself; she says she cares, but it leaves you even more confused as to how she goes about showing it.

You comfortably settle deeper into her couch, slowly losing consciousness and control over what you’re able to perceive. You’ve been in this place for only minutes, yet it feels like hours. 

Then she reemerges in what you can only describe as an angel in a black dress.

“Fuck—Yujin, y-you’re—” 

Her ethereal presence sends you to a whole new dimension. She’s no longer in her pink party suit, but in just as seductive, inviting clothes—ones you’ve seen her pose with before on social media. She clearly took her time and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. Seeing the awed, wonderstruck, look on your face elicits a bright smile on her features. This one’s different, too; there’s no arrogance on her lips, but rather an appreciative glow.

“Hot? Of course I’m hot, sweetheart,” says Yujin, with a coy tone, a complete contrast to her innocent visage. “I’m fucking An Yujin.”

“And I want to fuck you, Yujin,” you reply, foregoing every manner of hate you’ve built up against her, revealing how you secretly feel about her—and all that was needed was a few doses of mind altering poison. “I want you back.”

“Hmm—I don’t think that’s gonna be easy,” she says, playfully, knowing that she has you exactly where she wants you to be. “I thought you said you didn’t wanna be here?”

Your brain, high on lust and alcohol, goes haywire, and temporarily loses function. She waits intently as you struggle to come up with an excuse. You’re caught up in a web of your own lies, and as a result, left completely tongue tied. A simple question challenges your ability to answer, to think freely. Suddenly, there’s a lot at stake—for you. In this moment, you ponder how far you’ve gone off the beaten path, trying to walk back your words, only to realize you’ve picked the other way the entire time. 

“Forget about that question,” she whispers, seductively, while she struts toward you. You’re moments away from burning up; her arms wrapped your shoulder, enticing gaze, and leg crossed over your knee intensify the pressure coursing throughout your body. “Let me ask you something else. Don’t be shy, it’s only between us.”

Her words are so sweet, so inviting, and so hypnotic. Her breath tickles all the right places on your spine—it’s irresistible. Further and further, you’re falling deeper into Yujin once more.

“So—about Ning, she said no?” Her fingers run along your shoulder delicately. 

You nod, body tingling from the hot sensation of her breath. “Yes.”

“And what did she say to you?”

“She said she wasn’t interested in me,” you reply, voice monotone and robotic, having completely fallen under her spell. “She didn’t want me at all. She left me out in the cold, alone with a broken heart.”

Her head tilts slightly, lips forming a disappointed frown. Delicate fingers rub on your nape, sending more shivers down your spine. “What a damn shame. I knew she wouldn’t like you, but not like this. I told you not to go after her, right?”

You hesitate, trying to deny her the more sensitive parts of your life, but it’s a pointless effort; she’s the only one who knows you more than anyone else.

“Yes.”

She withdraws her arm, replacing the pressure on your nerves with her weight shifted on your lap. The empty gaze ahead of you is now all Yujin; her body fills up the space, her eyes eying you intensely with an intrigued look. The space between you and her can’t be any closer than ever before. 

“One more question,” says Yujin, brushing loose hair strands to the side. “Do you miss me?”

Your heart thumps wildly on your chest, and your eyes are completely fixated on her curious, wide-eyed stare. Her arms entangle themselves around you with no intention to suffocate you, but you’re choking between heavy breaths. There’s two choices, a hidden third, but there’s really only one correct answer.

“I—I—I miss you.”

To your disappointment, you barely catch a glimpse of the widest smile Yujin flashes the entire night, but you’re ultimately rewarded with a much greater reward: her lips.

You swear you can hear fireworks go off when she passionately kisses you, as if everything was perfectly timed according to her plan. Turns out, colorful and loud explosions are going off in the sky, but they’re not meant for you. Brief glints of light pierce through the windows above the room, temporarily distracting you from what’s most important right now. She knocks your wandering eyes away from the stars above and brings you down to earth, back to her level. 

God forbid you think of anything or anyone else besides her. 

“You really miss me?” she asks sincerely. 

‘Yes’ impulsively fires out of your mouth—you will never say otherwise, whether a hundred or a thousand times.

Her hands slither around the fabric covering your chest, messing with your plaid’s buttons. You want to undo hers in return, go tit-for-tat with each layer and accessory she plays with, but you’re held captive by such an endearing, sultry gaze, leaving you immobilized. Piece by piece, every little defense you have is slowly being picked apart, and you’ve never felt so vulnerable.

You feel a huge weight lifted from your chest; it’s only Yujin propping herself off your lap, much to your regret. She returns to her position on the couch right beside you, gesturing with her finger pointed to the floor. “On your knees.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You said you really miss me, right?” she says with brazen confidence. “Then prove it. Get on your knees.”

Her tone indicates a command, not a request, and you’re more than willing to oblige. As you fall to the ground at her behest, you hear her call you halfway.

“Keep your eyes on me,” commands Yujin, crossing her leg and planting her hand beneath her chin like a devious mastermind. “I don’t want you to think about anything else. Only me.”

You don’t question her sudden assertive attitude, especially when everything else in this party has been a complete eyesore and a pain to your senses. It doesn’t matter that Yujin’s playing you like a fool; she knows how desperate you are and will capitalize your weaknesses.You lock eyes with her as you humble yourself before her, doing what you’ve said you never wanted to do: inflate her ego. Despite this, you feel very little shame or humiliation.

“Hm, guess you’re still a good boy,” she comments, stroking her chin as she parts her legs for you. “Now put your hands behind your back.”

You immediately follow at the drop of her command, and afterward, she unlocks the feathery strip around her top, briefly dipping down to your level to bind your hands together like handcuffs. Now you’re fully held captive under Yujin’s control.

She shifts her hips atop the couch, letting her hands slowly slide down her shorts, inch by painful inch. Her pride skyrockets up to the roof as she gawks at your wired and needy expression: eyes wide, never blinking, and mouth agape, shamelessly drooling at what’s to come—and hopefully, how you’ll make her cum.

To your dismay, she stops halfway, allowing only a brief peek of her matching colored panties.

“You like that, don't you? You want this?” Yujin taunts, having all the confidence to fire every jab to hit you where it really hurts. “Peel it off me.”

Yujin knows what she's doing after all. She has you in bounds and locks, layers upon layers of prisons, but at least provides you with just enough to keep you sufficiently satiated. 

You move forward and take up her challenge. You’re shameless, but you’re not a complete pushover. Ignore the price tag of her expensive undergarment, even with the possibility of severe punishment, you want to see her hidden treasure. You crunch down on the top of her shorts’ fabric, then exert the rest of your effort to pull the rest of her teasing bottoms down, all while she amusingly watches from her throne for her personal entertainment.

It’s like this with every girl you hooked up with; you’ll willingly stoop this low to never feel so alone, and Yujin knows how to take full advantage of that.

After an agonizing while, you peel her shorts down to her knees, and fortunately, her panties aren’t as difficult. You’re greeted by the small sight of her clit, already throbbing and dripping wet. She spreads her legs apart wider, lets all her undergarments drop to her ankles, and grants you a clearer view of her pussy while kicking the distraction off her feet. 

“See how wet I am for you?” she says, tone as needy as you are. A finger travels down to her crotch, then begins rubbing along her delicate clit, creating irregular gasps. “I-I-I wanted you to come back. I still imagine you doing this to me like you did that night.”

Yujin adds a second finger and ramps up the pace, stroking her cunt while you helplessly watch her. The pleasure builds in her quickly to the point where she falls back on the couch’s backrest, slamming her eyes shut and crying out whines in increasing tune. There’s little left for your imagination; you wish those digits belong to yours, pumping and flicking on her sensitive spot. 

“Untie me, please,” you beg, lightly bashing your face against the soft leather of her couch. It’s a sight so many would kill and hurt for, and your lust leaves you wanting more.

She remains entrapped in her own self-induced daze, lolling her tongue out while her head’s positioned at the top of the backrest, her moans drowning out your pleading. 

“Please, Yujin, I want you so fucking bad.” You shout, lying prostrate on the floor, begging your old angel to return to you. She continues to respond to your cries with louder and louder moans. Intentional or not—mostly unintentional—it torments you more than any joke she’s ever said.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum, I—” Yujin whines, rubbing her cunt so fast that her fingers might catch fire. Her eyes flutter open, catch the briefest of glances of you in fetal position, and the unnatural image seems to be a wake-up for her. 

“I-I guess if you really want me that bad,” Yujin adds in between heavy breaths, slowing her fingers down to a halt while she struggles to capture oxygen from near self-climax. Within minutes, she’s completely winded, with her two fingers drenched in slick, which she offers out to you. Her voice brings you out of your curled up shell. You meet her halfway, then stick out your tongue to get a taste.

And it feels like you’ve found an oasis in the middle of a desert.

She gets off the couch, lifting your head up along, as if you’re the chosen one. It all makes sense; she’s been a sort of watchful guardian to you, and now you’re called to her. Her giddiness shines in her eyes; what else does have under her sleeve?

“Your hands,” she says, her gaze focused on what’s ahead of you. Take the hint and present your bound wrists in front of her. She unclasps the strap and frees you from her physical hold, but her mental grip on you remains as tight as it’s ever been.

At that moment, right as the chains come off, your patience has run completely dry, and your primal urges possess you.

You engulf her lips with yours. It’s not an intimate, romantic smooch, as lovers do, but a heated kiss. They’re full of hunger, lust, and every filthy thought you have about her. Much like she’s dragged you in, you pull her along in your current too. Run your grubby hands along her slender hips, down to her creamy ass, which elicits a sharp yelp from her mouth that’s music to your ears. Hoist her up as you continue to kiss her with little focus or aim; every part of her you craved, and you wanted to fill her with every part of you.

So much for a hard, dominant presence. Yujin’s a weak, utter mess, completely powerless as you carry her around, kissing and marking her cheeks, her chin, her collarbones—anything your lips can leave a filthy stain on. Her arms tangle around your neck for support, but it’s the loosest her hold has on you so far. Hums and moans echo throughout the mansion while you move from room to room, looking to find the best place to take her. Her place is one big maze; no guest will willingly want to enter, knowing the implications, and they’re too inebriated to care where either you or her have gone by now.

You find a large table perfectly suited for her in what you assume is the living room. Your head is dizzy, half from spinning around and from debauchery. Place her flat on her stomach, then spread her legs wide to get clear access to her dripping cunt. A particular squeal echoes throughout the room, louder than normal, either from pain from being laid down a bit too recklessly or from bodily pleasure. Ultimately, it does little to distract you. 

Now it’s your turn to get what’s yours. 

Drop to your knees to worship her splayed flesh, then you irreverently dive in to defile everything. Your tongue immediately laps up her glossy clit, drinks up the fountain of Yujin’s nectar, while your hands grip her thighs from underneath, building more pleasure within your former lover. The more you consume, the thirstier you grow. 

You really needed more of her; you’ve relapsed. 

Her thighs close in on your face as you continue to eat her relentlessly. You’re lightly suffocating under two layers of Yujin, drowning in her juices and choking between her legs—either of the two can make for a perfect message on your tombstone. You don’t need to see the expression on her features; her body’s responding in ways you want, shuddering violently and rippling with every passing second, so you’re clearly doing something right.

Your tongue carries on running laps around her labia, takes more of her slick, and drains her, while her hands pace back and forth, undecided on whether to grip the table’s edges or your hair. Yujin’s all bark and no bite; her tongue has lost the ability to form coherent words, settling instead for whines, whimpers, and moans. 

She sounds better like this, anyway.

Suddenly, there’s an abundance of rain in the form of her unannounced orgasm, and you take every single drop of her torrential downpour. The table’s flooding with her slick as her shriek rumbles throughout the house like thunder. This level of wetness should submerge you, but you persist, sucking and licking her pussy as she shudders through her peak and comedown. 

“Stop, please, oh God—” She finally breaks through her daze, taking tense breaths while her hands tug your hair. 

“Mmmpgh?” you hum, rising from her depths with a freakish look in your eyes like a deep sea creature. 

“I need to breathe, I need to breathe—” Yujin places a hand on her chest as she gathers up oxygen for her deprived lungs, eyes wide from shock, and overwhelmed by the ecstasy she experienced.

She turns out to be all bark and not bite. After all that shit talk, no demeaning comments, no sarcastic hits, no pot shots. Nothing.

Revenge never tasted sweeter.

You’re a better person, and certainly not someone to stoop to her level—

“I thought you imagined this. I guess you I didn’t fuck you hard enough the first time.”

A hand swings up to slap your chest—more like give it a love tap. 

“You fucking didn’t,” says Yujin, her brazen attitude returning to her gradually. “I didn’t cum when we fucked the first time.”

You raise your eyebrows, not as a challenge to take on, but because you know that’s a goddamn lie. “You’re just straight-up lying now? I thought you were better than that, Yujinnie. Now I know you fell off without me.”

“Shut up!” Yujin shouts, slapping you a few more times in the chest—more like missing—as the roles are reversed and her words are deflected right back at her, and it’s one of the most satisfying things to happen in a while. She never saw her comeuppance, and it’s well deserved. With your assistance, she rolls off the table on wobbly legs, and you shortly follow suit. 

This game is far from over; it’s only getting started.

Her lips and yours collide once more; now it’s a race to see whose tongue can be fully invaded and disabled first. If not for the fact she’s slightly taller than you, you’d be playing on even ground. You feel her tug you closer and closer to her, like she wants this to be a closed affair—no more running or ducking, just pouring out pent-up feelings. 

It’s an unfair advantage for you; she’s already half-undressed, her bottoms long forgotten in another room similar to every other room in her place. Yujin rips her lips from the kiss, then tears through your clothes in lightning fashion. Her eyes never part from your gaze, as if eternity is right ahead of her, and she longs to enter into the light. Though only a few seconds apart, it feels like a lifetime and a half. Your eyes twitch, and your lips utter a faint gasp, caught unawares of your now exposed, hard cock pressing against her creamy skin, and it feels like heaven. 

Your naked bodies entangle onto each other like pieces of a puzzle, finally solved after an endless search. Her leg slithers around your hips, her arms wrap around your neck like you’re her savior, then the rest of her figure follows, completely submitting herself to you, disregarding the lack of a bed close by. It’s a twist of roles; you’re supposed to be dependent on her, to offer yourself entirely to her, but here it’s the exact opposite. She’s the life of the party, but now you’re the one to give her life. An angel giving in to you.

“Fuck me,” she begs, softly and sinfully. “Fuck me.”

You lift her up legs off the ground and take her higher. 

Her naked body gleams under the intense, fiery glow of the lights above; she’s truly divine, an ethereal, otherworldly being gracing your lowly presence, and by some miracle, you're not burning up as you look at her. Her figure descends to your level; you’ve never been closer to such a goddess.

Then she cries out a heavenly whine, and it’s both sin and grace all at once.

Her pussy forcefully sucks the air out of your lungs, molds with your impaled shaft, and fits into your grip perfectly, like you’re always meant for her. You let out a relieved grunt, as if a weight has been taken off your shoulders, except her body replaces said weight, but you’re better off carrying this burden, especially if it’s beautiful as her. 

“Fuck, so tight, so tight—” you hiss, brushing your hands all over her smooth back as you cradle her like she’s your prized possession. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Fuck, your dick is so damn good,” says Yujin, caressing your hair gently and blessing your temple with a kiss. “Kiss me.”

Another intimate smooch—a gentle, romantic moment in the midst of your passion.

“Bedroom,” continues Yujin, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “Second floor.”

Between passionate kisses and deliberate bite marks on her flesh, you teeter up the stairs, battling a persistent state of tipsiness from the effects of alcohol and her full weight pressed on you. Fortunately, Yujin doesn’t seem to mind your slow pace, despite her neediness. You’re already fully impaled to her cunt deeply, and she’s left breathless with every touch. Your digits leave sensitive imprints all over her body, including her breasts, midriff, and ass; your fingers know all the ways to arouse and titillate her, keeping her senses magnified while you slowly ascend to nirvana. 

“God, you really know how to tease a girl,” says Yujin, closing her eyes and throwing her head back. You can barely hear her luscious voice from the loud, sloppy kisses you shower her perfect body. “I’m so glad she broke up with you. I can never imagine her feeling like this.”

Her nails rake your hair and your neck, then claw your nape, redirecting your mindless gaze up to her. You gawk at her with a puzzled look as she struggles to loosen from her pleasure filled state.

She looks back at you with a wide, almost prideful, but innocent smile. Her hand traces down your shoulder and arm, then to your chest. “Still thinking about her? Forget about her. I doubt she’d appreciate a dick like yours, anyway.”

You impulsively kiss her lips, as if a trigger activated in your brain. “Yujinnie, will you shut the fuck up about her?”

“Only if you fuck me so hard I forget about her,” Yujin replies, obviously intentional with her taunts. “Need you to toss me around like a ragdoll, fuck me good. I don’t think she’ll feel as good as I am—gah!”

You trap her in a whirlwind, fed up and agitated by her chatty mouth. Her hands grip to the wooden marbles of the stairs; she’s unraveling right before you as you drive a wedge between you and her. This is what she does best, pushing all the wrong buttons for her own benefit, and you fucking hate—and love—her because of it. 

“God, you feel so fucking good. You’re filling me up so well.” Yujin looks back at you as you push yourself out, then back in again. “Fuck me. Fuck me!”

You’ve never been in such an odd position before. Pinning her to the stairsteps and arching her back against it is the last thing you expected, but her wails tell you everything you need to know. You watch as her thighs suffocate your cock as it tunnels between her wet cavern, and you’re hitting gold every single time. Discomfort is the least of your concerns, not when she’s melding right before you in many different forms, both new and familiar. 

Yujin’s mouth reverts to a series of indescribable babbles and whines as you readjust your shaft inside her, spearing her with slow, intentional thrusts. Her fingers fruitlessly attempt to latch onto anything, but as you climb up more stairs, a physical indication of how close you are to climax, she eventually clings back onto you. 

You’re both leaving streaks of wet slick on the steps and on the railings. It’s impossible for anyone to deny that someone was railed here, but then again, do they even know where you two have disappeared into? Your screams are so loud they bounce off every wall of this entire mansion, but they’re all enamored with greed and vanity to care even the slightest.

On wobbly knees, you prop her up as you thrust upward, pushing her against the wall before you enter her bedroom. It’s difficult to get a footing of where you are exactly when her breasts cover up most of your view, but they’re a better sight than anything else, and you’re not exactly without fault, considering you’re willingly diving into them. There’s some responsibility on Yujin, too, as she’s pushing your head into her midriff and chest, suffocating you under her grasp. Nevertheless, you continue to fondle and appreciate her flawless body, filled with sensitive, sore marks that can’t be covered up easily, and you’ll make sure they stay there as long as you possibly can.

You unintentionally bump your legs against the edge of the bed, and she crashes onto the mattress with a thud. Her bed moves up and down in waves, and you promptly join her on it too, hovering over her splayed body, shuddering from bodily delight. It’s only when you stare at her from head to toe you come to truly appreciate her perfect figure, and you worship at the center of it: her belly with a wet kiss.

“Fucking hell, you have an amazing body,” you comment, only to realize you’re not quiet enough. You weren’t this appreciative the first time, so you’re making up for missed opportunities. You find your gaze being dragged back to her face, and she meets yours with a blush and a grin. 

“Enough with the flattery. Fuck me now,” she says, followed by a longful sigh. “If I wanted someone to kiss my ass while we’re having sex, I’d have picked someone else instead. I guess that’s why you never dated someone longer than a month—”

By now, you know the secret to shut her up: your lips. Fun as her trash talk may be, you secretly admit—but she’ll never hear it from your mouth—you don’t want to hear more of it, but she still keeps going, and she’ll never stop. You can’t contain her; only redirect her elsewhere, but there’s nowhere to go.

Her mouth goes wide as you impale her slowly again. No filth or taunts, only a lewd, erotic noise that’s heavenly. The scent of sex and alcohol fills your nostrils and your brain goes into overdrive. They’ve never felt sweeter mixed together. She’s so wet, so hot, and so tight. You forget that you’ve fucked her a handful of times minutes ago, and your marks are left all over the stairs, but this is straight from your memories. The bed is different, the setting is different, but this is exactly how you ended up the first time—atop her in a tangled daze, tasting and relishing every part of her.

Of course, there’s her chatter, too—a constant. “Fuck, so good—so good—so good—” she gasps, and her legs contract and tighten around your waist once more, tongue spewing curses and compliments as you ease yourself at a steady tempo, rocking her body and the bed beneath her. “Can’t believe you let this piece of hot pussy get away so easily—”

Your movement quickens, and you swear the earth trembles with each motion. Even with the ecstasy coursing throughout her body, overwhelming her senses, she really can’t stop spewing, but you’re more than willing to put up with it. A hand slips around her throat, the other on her chest to massage her mound, and she’s mewling raspily again. You know she’ll never quit arousing you, pushing those buttons, and doing it to stir you in the best way possible.

“God, I bet you really want to shut me up and just want me to take your fucking cock,” she mumbles, shakily, overcoming her daze to pierce your gaze with a taunting glare. “Maybe if you fucked me harder—”

The grip around her throat stiffens, and the rest of her sentence crumbles into coughs and wheezes. Your other hand continues to knead her chest, going back and forth, and you relish the sight of a weak Yujin fully succumbing to your control. 

“Shut up. Just shut up,” you hiss, leaving your breath against her neck, then you kiss it, trying to soften her up, even though there’s a high likelihood it won’t do a damn thing to her. “I’m so done with you, cockslut.”

Yujin croaks. “You’re not. You like this. You want this. You just don’t want to admit it.”

God, she really is an angel. She knows everything. She’s an angel who speaks like a devil, vocalizing all your repressed thoughts into truth. Maybe that’s why you’re so entranced to her, because she will say and do the things you can never do with anyone else, and she will always be better than whoever dares to try.

You slam into her, deeper and faster. Her body quivers, her mouth goes wide, and her eyes go shut. Her back arches as you repeatedly go down on her, reciprocating your grunts with louder moans as your fingers lose track of their place and caress her curves, reveling in her perfect, erotic form. 

“So good, so fucking good!” Yujin shouts; her voice is delivered out to the wind, and both of you are unaware the windows in her bedroom have been open the entire time. “No one fucks me as well as you do—shit!”

Her words are starting to turn around; you must be doing something different for her to react like this. Maybe a few more triggers need to be pulled, but you don’t mind settling for this either. 

“So tight, Yujin. I fucking love you.” Capture her lips for the umpteenth time. Your thoughts are all over place, but fuck it. “I fucking love you, I can’t imagine anyone but you—”

“Fuck me! God, just keep fucking me like that!” she exclaims, and her hands press on your back, trying to bring you as close as she possibly can, as if you’re almost not glued together at this point—you might as well feel her heart leap out of her chest. “Fuck! I love your cock so much, I—no one can do it like you!”

Her mouth has run out of slights, and the only things that remain are filth and praise. She’s in rare form, reduced to a mewling mess, her expressions all over the place, completely yielding to you as you fuck her—hard. Her soaked pussy clenches around your shaft tighter, graciously coating your cock with torrents of slick, and you can feel your hips start to give in to your climax fast approaching—sooner than you anticipated.

“So close, so close—”

“Cum in me. Please,” she says, softly and with vulnerability. She bites her lower lip, bracing for the end. “I need you to cum in me, fill me, and—fuck!”

The desperation in her voice stirs you, but in a different way. She’s never looked needier, more wanting, and you want to relish this sight a little bit longer. You redirect your gaze elsewhere, and the world around you is spinning and blinding. In your most aching position, you clamp on her collarbone, feel the weight around your hips grow heavier; it’s another drenched sensation, another Yujin orgasm, and you’re as hot as the sun right now.

You realize you can’t take much more, and like stars, you must die down, but not before they completely burn up.

The fire completely consumes the last of your fuel, and with a deep groan, you explode. You thrust into her, feeling up to her womb with your whole length as you spurt thick spurt after thick spurt into her suffocating, wet pussy. Every fiber of her muscles twitch, her eyes pop open, and in response to your cock, her tongue lolls out as her jaw drops wide, screaming in your ears as you blast shot after shot into her. It’s a euphoric feeling that takes you to a place where time stops flowing, space is nonexistent, and it’s only you two in a position you never want to leave. 

When your senses return to you, temporarily, you groan a second time. You can’t stop filling her with cum, and she’d never want it to stop, too. Then your lower half goes completely numb; your hips come to a gradual stop as the knot around them loosens, and you slowly but regretfully leave her dripping cunt, a string of thick seed the only thing left connecting your bodies together, eventually breaking when you finally collapse right beside her. 

What follows is a long stream of serene, tranquil silence, as if the past half hour of raw sex never happened. There’s no loud party, no rambunctious guests, no screams—just an air of solemn quiet as two souls are bonded together in a heavenly state.

——————

“So, when does the party end?” you ask Yujin while you both overlook the party from one of her bedroom windows. The night is still fairly young; the clock says it’s half past midnight, but the euphoric feeling of sex feels like an eternity. You can feel their energy, even from two floors above, and you can definitely hear it, too.

“I’d say it should have ended like an hour ago,” says Yujin, turning her eyes from the festivities and back to you. Your fingers are deep into her hair, partially fixed, but mostly a mess. Neither of you bother to put any clothes on; it’s not like anyone can see you together from below. “None of them seem to want to leave. It’s fine, I have a bunch of guest rooms—if they can even reach them before they pass out, anyway.”

There’s that trademark snarky and teasing attitude you’ve come to expect. It’s only now that you’ve fully accepted and adjusted to it. That alone should warrant a comment, but nothing ends up being said.

“So, let me ask you now,” adds Yujin, her hand rubbing your arm and puppy eyes staring at you intently. “Do you actually miss me?”

You ponder her question for a moment. The first time was the bad ending after the sex, but you don’t want to make the same mistake the second time, especially not after what you’ve been through. Sure, it’s more than likely your emotions are spiking again, but can you really bring yourself to experience pain after all that has transpired?

“I do. I really do miss you, and—” Pause for a moment with a sigh. “I really mean that.” Caress her cheek; you feel warmth emanating from her. “I didn’t come here to fuck you then run. I’m not like that.”

“And I know you’re not,” she says, sincerely and sweetly. Usually some backhanded comment follows that leads to more banter, but not this time. Even more out of character behavior from her, completely disconnected from everything she’s done with you tonight. “I’m just happy you’re here, that’s what matters to me.”

Her face nuzzles into your hand, and you’ve never been more grateful to hold something so soft in your grasp. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“For what?” 

“For everything.”

“Forget it. I’m just glad you’re here, and that’s all I care about.” Yujin pulls you close to her and you share a passionate, intimate kiss, and like the first time, fireworks explode, as if destiny perfectly timed itself for your rekindled romance. “Welcome back, sweetheart. I missed you, too.”

—————

(Notes: Thank you @co-reborn and @digipigichopshop for beta reading and offering your help!)

(A/N: Stream After LIKE <3 I absolutely love Yujin, she's become one of my ults within the past few weeks, that's crazy. Don't mind the random allegories and religious stuff, I wrote bits of it while listening to my religious lecture XD Seriously, don't do that. Thank you for reading!)

[moonrazeeclipse]

UNRAVEL

male reader x kim jisoo

6k words

It’s all a mess honestly. You need her. She needs you. Just none of it in the same way.

-

It’s late as you arrive through the front door of your apartment. Just into the kind of hours that saw the lion’s share of your reckless decisions. So, it’s not unreasonable that you’d find her here now—sunk into the cushions of your sofa, finger against her temple, eyes halfway attending some novel she pulled off your bookcase—she more than knows what she’s doing.

Keys, wallet, phone all clamor and rattle as you set them down on the narrow table inside your foyer.

"I must’ve missed when we decided you could just let yourself in."

"Well if we’re splitting hairs," Jisoo says, waiting for the sound of a page to flip between her fingers, "You’re the one who gave me a spare key."

"If we’re splitting hairs Jisoo—it was for emergencies."

"And?"

"And." You shove your hands into your pockets.

She closes the book gently, no effort spent to bookmark or dog-ear a corner, and rests it on her thigh. "What if you’d gone missing? Drank yourself to death or got pushed in front of a bus. That’d be an emergency now wouldn’t it."

"So, just a hypothetical one then. Got it."

A humorless laugh and she smiles, the unmistakable glow in her eyes reeling you into her. "Don’t act too happy to see me."

You unsling your bag from your shoulder. "I don’t suppose you could’ve called?"

"Funny." Jisoo tilts her chin up at you. "I was about to say the same thing."

The step you take up into the living room as Jisoo rises from her seat is an apprehensive one. The lights are dimmed just barely bright enough to read by. And try as you may, Jisoo’s silhouette is the only thing your tired eyes can find a place to rest in. Maybe it’s how the moonlight catches her pale skin or the way she gets gently washed in those soft blues and greens of the city’s nighttime neon that pour diffuse through your windows. It’s almost necessary to remind yourself that it’s your apartment the two of you are standing in. Always there’s this precise, polished look about her—she owns every room she steps into.

Jisoo tucks a stubborn strand of midnight hair behind her ear before tapping a finger on the book she’d placed down on the coffee table. "It’s a good read by the way."

You glance at its cover and a derisive laugh blows out your nose. "So what was all that then—about not reading anything that isn’t at least a hundred years old—time tested you called it."

Jisoo hides a quiet smile as she lets her eyes wander a moment to her feet. "It’s close enough to a hundred isn’t it? Besides, it’s Gatsby, I can make an exception."

"Speaks to you, huh?"

"There’s just something so magical about the way he chases Daisy, ya know? That’s the kind of love I want. Waking up every morning knowing someone out there needs you."

"I’m willing to bet most readers end up sympathizing with Jay—all with the anguish of pursuing a woman who’s completely unobtainable?" You toss your work bag over the back of the sofa. "Just the kind of thing I’d hope mostly to avoid."

When Jisoo squares her shoulders to yours, you find yourself swallowing at an impossible thirst in your throat. Brains, beauty, wit. It’s probably the hundredth time she’s run through your thoughts today, and you can’t still figure out anything you don’t like about her, at least not on paper. So, you continue on, unfortunately thinking so very often about her—the way she smiles when you hold her, the way her eyes soften when her face is inches from yours, the way she runs her fingers through your hair—perfect. That’s how you’d describe her; if perfect could ever hope to be a pejorative.

"I think you worry too much." Her svelte figure finds itself easily in the space in front of yours and she wraps her fingers around the bottom of your necktie. She’s not even touching you and it’s making it hard to breathe. "Wouldn’t you say?"

Were you to flip through a calendar and search for the day you’d first undressed her in your apartment, you’d have to start by grabbing one more and then rifle back about eighteen months or so to put your finger on it. Only now should you have instead cut from those pages the time you’d actually spent together—most of it between the sheets mind you—you doubt it would manage to stitch together more than a few weeks. That was the nature of your relationship.

It’s not like we’re dating ya know.

Jisoo was always rather firm on this point.

And god, had you grown weary of hearing it. Usually a non-sequitur in its arrival, it would bounce and rattle around your thoughts for days, the warm voice behind it painfully clear and articulate. All because you’d made the mistake of bringing it up one time.

It really ought to be the kind of thing that closed more doors than it opened, answered more questions than it raised. The sentence probably deserved a period. Granted, there wasn’t yet an empty wine bottle in the sink nor were your clothes scattered about in different states of undress around the room, but you recognize the feeling—hanging on the end of a comma.

"I told you. I’m not going to do this anymore." You begin to twist your arms out from the sleeves of your coat. "I felt like I was pretty clear about it."

You were.

"What—in the hotel?" Jisoo sneaks behind you and helps coax the jacket off your shoulders, laughing to herself. "That conversation? The one you and I had just fifteen minutes before you pinned me against the wall, pulled my skirt up and—"

"Jisoo."

"Yeah. How presumptuous of me to assume you’d changed your mind," she adds, stressing a rasp in that ever-so-husked voice of hers. She ignores your protest, mostly because you let her; you always let her; she knows you always let her.

Quickly, her body against yours becomes a question, the racing of your heart its familiar answer.

"Jisoo," you repeat, finding it difficult to search for an authoritative voice all at the hand reaching under your chin, the heat of a short breath against your jaw, those parted lips dragging against your cheek. Dig your heels in. "I’m serious."

"Come to think of it—isn’t it a little late?" she asks, kissing you again just beyond the corner of your mouth. Her voice is cool, gentle breaths warm on your skin. "To just now be coming in the door? To be honest, I was starting to think you weren’t going to show at all."

"Well don’t act surprised." You gently pull her hand by the wrist away from your chest. "This is where I sleep."

Jisoo fixes on you, those sweeping eyelashes keeping a pair of narrowed eyes entirely unreadable. "But that’s not always true now is it? In fact, tonight you were counting on sleeping somewhere else, no?"

"How do you figure all that?"

"Because your clothes smell like tobacco and cheap beer." She raises an eyebrow and begins teasing the fabric of your shirt up from out of your pants. "Do you at least have a good excuse? Something creative maybe?"

"You really want a creative one?"

Her eyes become soft for a moment before narrowing again and her lips part into an all-too-alluring shape. "No, not particularly."

"Fine then. Work," you answer. "The team wanted to do a happy hour. Or maybe a few."

"At an izakaya?" Her face tilts until it finds a look of skepticism that matches the inquisitive tone in her voice.

"Something like that."

"Are you drunk?"

"Well I can’t say I’m sober."

"And Rosie," she says, blinking slowly, "you two met there or some place later?"

Chin up, you twist a confused eyebrow over the top of a dry laugh. "Now what might give you that impression?"

A smirk pulls up on the corner of Jisoo’s lip, and in one quick motion she pinches between her fingers at a long strand of golden blonde hair from just beneath your collar. "You’re still wearing her on your shirt, handsome."

A deep breath marks your response as you bite softly into the inside of your cheek.

"Thought so. Now, I’m not so brash as to ask for details, but considering you’re here, and she isn’t… I can’t imagine she invited you up for coffee after you kissed her outside her—"

"Has anyone ever told you you’re a little tightly wound?"

Jisoo takes a moment, slightly disarmed. "Once or twice."

"I’ve gotta ask—is this something you do just to get into bed with me?"

"Not at all." She smiles. Always it manages to distract from the way she inches ever closer to you. "Getting into bed with you is a completely separate affair."

Of course there’s some sort of game here. And one day you’ll learn how to win at it, or at least the rules, or even just how it’s scored (in spite of the fact Jisoo seems keen on changing all of it constantly). Too quickly however, before whatever prudent thoughts might rebuke them, it’s your hands that give you away. The thin fabric of her blouse beneath your fingers, you map the familiar shapes and curves where Jisoo’s waist meets her hips.

You shake your head across a series of breathy laughs. "And just what does that look like Jisoo?"

She leans into you, her palms sliding slowly up your chest. "From the top? Because right now, I’d guess we’re just getting into the real thick of it."

She stands close to you, her body now breaking all sorts of boundaries. The flavor of her perfume hits your nose and she’s resting a thigh against yours. Those parted lips hover just in front of your face—pink, narrow and wildly irresistible. Reach forward and you can simply take them.

You swallow again and your eyes shift away from hers before they might grab hold of you like quicksand. "You think I don’t know how it starts?"

"Oh?" She starts again at the skin on your neck, each kiss lingering longer and melting into your skin until finally she holds herself just over your lips. The breaths of her sultry voice crash onto your face, "Go on then, let’s hear it."

You straighten yourself out, earning you the fleeting remains of your personal space. "I mean it’s all more or less the same right? You sit down, we chat, nonsense mostly. I ask you how your trip was, you tell me about Paris, Milan, New York City or another."—always she was coming and going and coming and going—"I offer you something to drink, you ask if I have any wine, I bring out that bubbly stuff I keep buying even though you’re the only one who cares to drink it—"

"Ha. You know I had my suspicions." The soft, round tip of Jisoo’s nose drags across your cheek as she reaches up in her heels and finds her lips onto the bottom of your ear. In seconds, her voice fills your head completely. "And then what?"

Of course, your precocious hands can’t stop reaching further behind Jisoo—into the narrow ridge that runs up the center of her back, to the curve of her ass, the bottoms of her shorts inviting you to venture beneath them. You clear your throat before giving her the response she wants, "The cork comes off, clothes not too long after and tongues are in mouths I suppose."

Jisoo hangs off your shoulders with a hand slowly twisting up the length of your tie. A sculpted eyebrow dips and her expression nearly pouts. "Just mouths?"

"Well—"

"Maybe you ought to remind me—all those things your tongue can do."

It’s the same every time. Eighteen months of limbo, of seeing, not seeing, seeing, not seeing this girl who moved far faster than you could ever hope to keep up with. You’d promised yourself to have an ounce of resolve—something, anything, that even looked like resolve would do. Now of course, Jisoo was never going to outright put her lips to yours and kiss you. No, that’s something she leaves for you. Because she knows. When you’re in her hands like this? Inevitable.

If it had started slow, you missed it entirely.

The swell of her lower lip twitches, and you crash hard into her. The way her lips curve and arch—unbelievable, the pretty things—they remind you just how right it feels to take them in your own. The long lashes across her eyes tickle and tease you until you’re both staring into the stars behind your eyelids and struggling to breath steady. It’s entirely reckless, and absolutely dangerous, but somewhere in this tumultuous endeavor, you can only ever know the calming touch of her cool, wet lips against yours calling you home.

She’s small, her narrowed shoulders between your arms easy to hold yourself around. The staggered breaths moving haphazard through her chest push against you as she melts into your embrace.

You hold her tight, just underneath where her shoulder blades rise from the middle of her back, pressing further and pulling her into you until she gasps into your kiss. Before you realize it, you’ve got her bent back at the knees, holding on tightly to you with those dainty arms wrapped around your neck as you chase deeper into her lips.

When you’d heard she was in town, again, from a fashion show or a film festival (honestly it’s become impossible to remember), this was the exact scene you’d intended to avoid. Of all the girls you’ve never dated, Jisoo was intent on somehow being the most impossible to break up with.

"Mmnph…" Jisoo swallows down a choked breath and takes a beat to gather herself as a small distance comes to exist between your lips. You open your eyes and she’s staring right back into yours, these deep shimmering pools of dusty browns and grays. Her cheeks glow a faint pink. She bats her eyelashes. The corners of her eyes crease and she’s got this smile, it's always that smile, the rare kind you doubt you’ve stumbled upon more than a handful of times in your life. Effortless and delicate, it wraps you up into her. Even though its radiant and beaming for all to see, you swear when she’s here—like this—it only focuses on you with this ever-tempting prejudice in your favor.

She wets her lips and lets a sultry voice interrupt the moment, "Well, what are you going to do now?"

It’s been a long day. Your heart is tender, tired, sore. Fuck, It’s been a long eighteen months. Tugging at the shirt bunching in your fingertips, you answer her, simply taking her lips again.

She gasps when you push her into the wall and again when you place your knee between her thighs. There’s five buttons down the front of her blouse, two more at the waist of her shorts. Your hand feels slowly down the shape of her slim figure, and they all come undone while Jisoo’s tongue begins to slip gently between your lips.

She shifts her weight between her legs. And as if you’d cut some invisible thread holding the entire delicate assemblage together, those garments make their way to the floor. It’s instinctual the way your hands wrap around Jisoo, finding the perfect shape of her ass. Your fingers squeeze into soft skin and a hushed, accidental moan spills from her throat into yours.

A barely-there trail of spit between your mouths grows until it vanishes into the dark as you pull your face away from Jisoo—her eyes open slowly and rest weary in yours. She’s so beautiful it often takes the words right off your lips. You’d grown to know it impossible to ask promises or demands of her, but the way she holds you right now, her hands on your chest and back, her eyes soft and welcoming, it always manages to keep the embers of a fire—that cruel thing of hope—stoked and burning gently inside you.

She grabs gently at your wrist, guiding you sternly to where she really needs you—between her legs. Your fingertips brush the skin beneath her waist, atop her underwear and she places her words in your ear, "now come, feel me."

The loose fitting lace of her panties bunches in your palm the further you venture to reach into that smoldering warmth between her thighs. She grasps tight at your shoulders, lifts her chin and shudders as your finger drags across the pair of lips hidden beneath it all.

Again her voice rests atop a whisper, some silent curse or another.

Bathed in the soft light of the moon, Jisoo has this almost ethereal beauty about her. When she moves—and nearly imperceptible when she does—the dance of light and shadows scatters into these mesmerizing shapes across the pale skin of her body. The cast of those shadows, dark and unrelenting like India ink, tease her image through your head where your thoughts scramble to capture it however incomplete and grainy.

Sneaking under the loose elastic around her waist, knuckles tenting the hopeless fabric, you finally feel her. A wetness pools at her entrance. And just beyond it, the unmistakable heat that radiates from inside her. With a delicate touch, the rough pads of your fingers dip and play. Jisoo bites her lip at that chord you strike against her aching mound and a sharply sucked chestful of air tugs at the muscles in her stomach, scattering again those shadows the night had lain across it.

She swallows and closes her eyes. Lilting into that deepened register of her voice, Jisoo continues to reel you into her. "There you go. I love the way you touch me."

The strap of a black lace bra rolls between her fingertips and slides off her shoulder. She leans forward, pinching a kiss onto your neck as the garment begins to reveal more and more of that porcelain skin beneath her collarbones. The swelling roundness of her breast fills your hand and a stiff nipple finds its way amidst the grip of your thumb and finger.

Jisoo’s kisses again land in your ear. "C’mon. Don’t play."

It’s all a mess honestly. You need her. She needs you. Just none of it in the same way. So repeatedly, drawn inextricably and spiraling toward some spectacular cosmic catastrophe, the two of you find one another.

Seldom do you have even a moment to consider it—especially given all the ways Jisoo needs you. Sometimes she demands just the first two knuckles of a finger, sometimes your lips, the broad stroke of your tongue, occasionally it becomes the paradoxical freedom she finds in your hand around her throat. Even knowing few bounds, it’s impressive how simply she takes it all off you. Her fingers set tight into muscle behind your shoulder, and she moves, hips beginning to shuffle and rock against the forever reliable shape of your hand.

Her lips part and a moan punched through them sticks a humid breath against your face. "Ohhh my god—yes."

She knows it’s selfish, but she doesn’t care. Those words off her lips hit your ears and your heart drums at a dull beat from deep within your chest.

A yelp, and a sudden draw of cold air past her teeth, you find Jisoo quickly filling with want and need in your hands. Her nipple between your fingers becomes a second target of torment and her muscles jump as you find the aching bud atop her lips with a heavy touch of your thumb.

"This bad, huh?" you ask, feeling Jisoo’s body twist and unsettle in your grip. "Rough week?"

Jisoo’s lips break their kiss onto your neck, sighing. "No worse than usual."

"Yeah?" Your fingers dip again into that wet pool collecting into a sticky mess at her entrance. "Jisoo, you’re fucking soaked."

"Then maybe you ought to get down there and take care of it."

Just past where her aching folds surround her clit, you slip a finger into that tight warmth. Jisoo stifles a moan and you lift your chin, looking down your nose at the sight in front of you. "And how might I be able to do that?"

Struggling against your fingers, she answers, "If you’re—asking me to say it—you’re barking up the wrong—"

"Jisoo." Your shoulders drop and your head tilts into that angle—the one that pleads for a reasonable response—not that it ever has the efficacy it needs, no matter how meticulously practiced the look now is. "For christ’s sake, enough with that. You and I both know that you aren’t—"

"Your little slut?"

"Well—I was going to say a princess—but good on you to prove my point."

"You know it’s always my favorite part right?" Jisoo’s eyes narrow and a dangerous smile fills across her cheeks. "Watching you—pretend and toil like you don’t want to fuck me."

You can’t help but laugh, something about the way it cools your nerves. "Oh trust me—I know I shouldn’t—but I stopped pretending a long time ago."

"Well then, I suppose—if we’re not going to beat around the bush." Her voice in your ear becomes a command. "You can get on your knees. And give me your tongue."

Your hand out from between her legs, dragging a sheen of her wetness across her waist, you push her hip fast against the wall. A disgruntled whine leaves Jisoo’s lips, but the kiss you place on her neck is quick to pacify the complaint.

Slow, meticulous, every inch a purposeful destination, you dive. A trail from her neck to her collarbone, her soft skin meets your lips. The taste of it all—beyond her sweat, her scent—it quickly fills your thoughts, abstract but every bit as familiar. Your mouth latches around the tight bud atop her breast. The way your tongue and your teeth around it make her squirm sets a reminder in your head to visit the tender flesh again.

Now hovering beside her thighs, you chuckle at Jisoo’s hips beginning to search for you while you pull her underwear down the smooth curves of her legs. Your tongue clicks and you begin to chide her, "Jisoo—so needy—"

"Don’t start." She threads her fingers through your hair and pulls you into her. The breath you draw through your chest is moist, filled with the sweet smell of her excitement. Your nose brushes against her clit, your fingers tease the shallow depths of her entrance, and your tongue meets her lips, wanting.

She shudders. And her voice dips out of its usual composed timbre, meeting a contented sigh that shakes and moves her whole body. "Ohhhh."

The lips around her heat fold and twist under each slow, methodical, swirling pass of your tongue. Her hands pull you into her and your mouth forms kisses that suck and massage at her mound, finding again the familiarity of her reactions—a quick breath, a soft mewl, sometimes when you really find where she needs you, she curses.

When you look up, Jisoo’s eyes stare back at you with a heavy longing, her chin tucked and a hand holding the dark, wavy hair out of her face. The pleasure you brew between her legs has begun now to agitate these erratic waves of movement in the surface of her stomach, all as her muscles jump and her chest draws heavy gasps of air.

"That feels so good—"

You reach behind her, and a handful of Jisoo’s perfect ass helps guide her hips into your efforts while the other explores the wet mess you’ve created between her thighs. Her slick walls tighten around the length of your finger and Jisoo parts her lips, letting a muted whine spill loose from her chest as the shape of a second finger finds its way inside her.

Releasing your seal around her wet folds with a smack, you narrow your tongue, its firm tip quick to become a reliable partner for her aching clit—quick to become exactly the toy Jisoo needs.

Shuffling about, she turns her bra around on her chest and unclasps the stubborn thing before sending it careening to the floor. Completely naked for you now, the grind of her body against your mouth becomes more urgent, more selfish, seeking her own release on the shape of your tongue. Her lip caught between her teeth, she whispers, barely audible to you now in between her thighs, "right there—fuck your tongue."

Her knees begin to weaken and buckle. Locked in conflict, Jisoo’s building pleasure struggles against her desire to stand, holding her right where she needs to be, where your tongue can continue to deliver the swirling, tapping, teasing touches that race to bring her to the brink. When your fingers find the throbbing skin behind her clit, putting the poor swollen bud between a rock and a hard place, Jisoo begins to pant in fits and starts. The only thing clenching harder than her teeth are the muscles beginning to tense and lock around you.

You can feel your chin become slick, Jisoo’s wetness practically dripping onto your shirt, and those whispers become stuck in an endless loop, "keep going, keep going."

Ever since you’d known each other, and probably long before that, Jisoo’s very fabric had been stiffly woven into this spitting image of perfection—always concerned about the way people saw her, how people talked about her when she wasn’t listening, whether or not she might say something with even a hint of the wrong inflection. It has to be utterly exhausting. And you knew possibly better than her: where to find those loose threads that had been tucked and hidden away. A tap or a tease here, a pull and a twist there, and you see to it that Jisoo unravels.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!—Fuuuuuck."

Sharp fingernails dig into the back of your head, pressing you tight against her wet, aching mound. Her legs lock, muscles tighten, and in a moment of brief triumph, you look at her—taking in the sight of Jisoo coming undone.

Holding onto a silent moan, her expression twists, all scrunching and wrapping around the knuckle she keeps tight between her teeth. Nearly folding herself in half, she holds most of her weight against you as she reels in pleasure. You study each quiver and shake that seizes her body as the walls come down around her.

It’s somewhat of a mangled heap you two finally connect into onto the hardwood floor of your apartment. You’re the first to rise considering that your recovery was just about complete when you’d wiped the excessively wet surface of your mouth and chin with the back of your sleeve.

"God." Her lungs still gasping for air, she catches your stare with a pair of half-lidded eyes. "You’re fucking dangerous."

You suppose that makes two of you.

Beads of sweat form where her dark, silky hair wisps into soft strands at her temples. Her legs continue to carry on a slight wobble, walking across the carpet in your living room. And through it all, her unwavering commitment to seducing your every thought remains entirely steadfast—each step offering you a clear picture of her elegant figure, completely nude for you eyes to enjoy.

She places the palms of her hands on the room’s single window, a tall simple piece of glass that stretches from the floor to the ceiling, and she creates this irresistible curve from where her neck meets her shoulders to where her waist flares into the perfect roundness of her hips.

Jisoo pulls her face over her shoulder, her eyes peeking over it and she tells you everything you need to hear, "Get those clothes off—and come fuck me."

She doesn’t have to ask twice.

Tie, shirt, shoes, belt, pants, underwear all make this hapless trail throughout the room as you follow in the sound of Jisoo’s voice. You’re like a moth fluttering its wings in anxious proximity to a flame, the way she just makes your body move without thinking.

"Tell me," she says.

You position yourself behind her, fingers gingerly pumping your own cock as if it could even get any harder.

"Tell me—just how far do you think you’d have gotten with Rosé?"

"What’s with that?" You lick your palm and dip it between Jisoo’s thighs, but you should’ve known without needing any confirmation—she’s as slick as can be. "What’s it to you?"

Jisoo laughs quietly, "I mean the girl’s a grade A prude—"

A gasp interrupts Jisoo as you press your cock against the lips of her pussy, presented neatly in between her creamy thighs in front of you. You watch as she grips onto you inch by inch and all but pulls you into her inviting heat.

"So?" you ask.

The girl in your hands finds herself looking again over her shoulder, her eyes begging you to fuck her. "So—I’m sure you're a hell of a lot happier now that you’re about to have me."

"If I remember correctly—" And you’re more than sure you do. You start pushing your cock past the hot, tight seal of her lower lips. You find her wet and ready and wanting you, but still she needs to adjust to something bigger than just the narrow width of your fingers. "Weren’t you more of the same?"

You press your thighs against hers and Jisoo moans, the airy sound becoming her only response. Her shoulders rise and fall as she settles into the shape of you. All the same it manages to yank a groan out of your chest, only it fills you with this yearning for more of the warmth and tightness that now surrounds you.

"Am I wrong here?" You ask, bending forward against the arch of Jisoo’s back. You mock the aloof sound of her voice, "Miss I-don’t-usually-do-this."

Your hands grip onto Jisoo’s waist as you drag yourself back and press forward into her again, and you watch her body move, a ripple traveling through her thighs to her hips.

"Tha-That doesn’t sound like me."

Teeth starting to clench and grind, you whisper under your breath at the ridiculousness of it all, "you’re right—it certainly doesn’t."

It’s a delicate motion made across the velvety skin of her sopping pussy, but you come to bury your shaft in that slick heat of her cunt again. The way Jisoo feels—so impossibly tight and hot around your cock—you swear as though she were designed specifically with you in mind. Like a fucking glove. Bent at the waist, the angle lets you bury yourself deep, and at the end of each thrust, you have to make an effort not to simply lose yourself right then and there.

Slowly, you work up to a tempo that makes it difficult to carry much of any meaningful conversation at all. And all too quickly the angle you find against her hips sends Jisoo into a satisfying fit of panting breaths. You watch each one as it draws through her chest and lands hot against the glass, quickly becoming fogged and littered with hand prints.

Each collision between your hips fills your apartment with its fleshy sound, her taut wet skin against yours making for a particularly satisfying clap.

"So - fucking - good," Jisoo manages through her gritted teeth. 

You soak up the perfect hourglass shape in front of you, holding tight at its stem. The city lights on the other side of the window manage to paint Jisoo in this fantastic myriad of colors. Blues, greens, reds, all these unnatural tones against the pale skin of her face, her back, her ass—she looks as if someone had decided to paint her and let their imagination run wild.

You can’t help but wonder what it looks like from the other side. Your room is only a few floors above street level, and anyone looking up would undoubtedly see Jisoo struggling to maintain her ridiculous posture, the beautiful features of her face fast becoming wracked with pleasure—not that either you or her seemed to care.

"Fuck, Jisoo I swear—you are too tight!" you groan, but there’s never any real purpose to the complaint. The force of each thrust against Jisoo’s tight body sends her inching closer to the glass in front of her until her shoulders are pressed tight to it and your bodies nearly parallel.

Jisoo strains on the tips of her toes to meet your height, to where your cock delivered this impossible pleasure to the burning heat of her cunt. Her hands search on the window in front of her for something to grab onto, but quickly come up with nothing as the glass offers no such reprieve in its unyielding, bare surface. The best you can do to help is to hook your fingers around her elbows and pull her back, helping her stay upright

"Fuck me, you feel amazing Jisoo."

"You’re—Jesus—so hard right now ya know?" Jisoo labors to swallow again. "Don’t even think about cumming inside me just yet."

"Honest, I’ve been thinking about it since the moment I put my cock in you."

"Don’t you dare." She turns her to where you can see her face in profile, pulling you forward to kiss and breath heavy against her cheek. "Just shut up and fuck me."

There was hardly any room for misunderstanding in that.

The impact of your hips against hers continues to shake all kinds of curses and whines from her lips. She struggles to keep her head over her shoulder, eventually just resting one side of her face against the cold glass. But still she manages to hold you in her gaze, at least half of it, laboring fruitlessly to keep that usual cool expression from bending and yielding to the pleasure between her legs—incredible how quickly it all begins to fall apart at the seams.

"God! Right there!" she squeals, "it’s so fucking good—" All the words out of her mouth come in various states of composure, some of them airy, some rasped, others staccato and repeating—an utter mess pooling in your ears, but even still, they harmonize perfectly.

"Yes - god - fuck - that’s it." Struggling on her words, she sucks air sharply against her teeth and shuts her eyes tight. "Make me cum again—I’m so close!"

An intense heat smolders from deep inside Jisoo’s cunt, melting and aching around you. You recognize just how badly she needs to cum on your cock all because it’s the exact same chain reaction every time—muscles lock, lips part, eyebrows scrunch, and in a final desperate breath, she finds her lip between her teeth.

You lift yourself as much as Jisoo’s desperate grip on your shoulders will allow and search for her hips with your hands. She squirms as you hold her firm, pushing her tight, quivering body into the glass, and you take the opportunity that only the throes of orgasm might provide—to use her exactly how you need. If she’s going to cum twice, surely you’ve got the green light to have a crack at it once.

The muscles in your legs start to heat and stiffen as you push yourself into that tight warmth more urgent and frenzied than you could ever hope keep up with, but it doesn’t matter—It was never going to take a whole lot to fuck and pump yourself there.

"Jisoo," your voice strains, "I’m gonna—"

"Yeah—do it," she rasps, reaching her hands back and grabbing on tight to your thighs.

You drop your face into the silky hair behind her ear, selfishly taking in the addictive smell of her sweat and perfume. Your balls tense, you find a shallow breath to hold onto, and driving your cock into her again, you bury your cum deep into the tight depths of her throbbing heat.

"There you go. Let it out," Jisoo whispers against the window with a voice grown hoarse. "Cum in me like you always do—fucking fill me up."

You can count the seconds where you’re not sure if you’re alive or dead while you release yourself in Jisoo’s cunt—which by all means, is a warmth, a wetness, a tightness you could live in forever—but the ringing in your ears, the incorrigible knot in your stomach knocking on your throat, you feel yourself returning.

Your muscles burn, the curiously sour stench of sex fills your nose, and you collapse atop the mess you’d turned Jisoo into, the two of you gasping for breath and finding comfort in the cold touch of the window pane.

You share a moment of exhaustion between the two of you. Breaths heave midst your chests and sweat beads at your brow. As quick as it comes, the moment passes. Her hands relax from the makeshift handles she’d found on either cheek of your ass. And with two gentle pats to your rear, she more than makes herself understood.

Jisoo clears her throat. "Alright - get up - I need some water, and then I get to be on top."

—

When you wake up, there’s this mood in the room. Sofa cushions are on the floor, your clothes still trailing from the foyer entry to the window, the wrappers from a late night snack—but of course, as per usual, Jisoo’s nowhere to be seen.

You shuffle your feet from your bedroom door to the kitchen to find a note on the fridge.

"That’s new," you say under your breath, pulling the sticky note in front of your eyes and rubbing the sleep from out of them.

"Had to bounce. Borrowed that book by the way. I need to know what happens—does Jay get the girl of his dreams? Is there a happily ever after? Don’t spoil it for me. I’ll be back to return it soon enough.

Jisoo"

"That woman—I swear," you grumble, "it’s not a happy ending."

[moonrazeeclipse]

Awards after-party affair (Itzy Yuna)

Like a ringing bell at the top of the hour, the signal is loud, instant, and right on time. One eager attendee catches the first van roll onto the red carpet entrance. He makes the call like it’s routine, alerting everyone else for an invasion—a visual attack is about to happen. 

“They’re here!” 

You’re no different from the rest of this eager crowd. You stop whatever you’re doing—in this case, fiddling with your handheld camera—to redirect your gaze in the same direction as everyone else. Despite how little in common you share with these people, you’re all in perfect sync, like this has all been practiced and choreographed a thousand times. From the front seats come out two imposing men: one serving as driver and the other as manager/bodyguard. The driver slides open the door. Though they’re only silhouettes, shadows that are unassuming, it’s enough to make the masses scream their lungs out.

See, you’re not a fan. To you, you’re only doing a job. It pays remarkably well and creates jealousy to anyone whenever you bring it up in conversation. At this point though, you’re completely callous to the experience and share the same amount of displeasure as an average joe working a 9-to-5. The ordeal of covering numerous award shows, red carpets, and press junkets from week to week—sometimes two events in a single day—serve as more of an endless assault on your senses and test of patience with everyone, and this is no different. Sure, it’s a rare privilege to meet all kinds of larger than life stars, but dealing with their bitchy PR managers is a whole other affair.

It’s late in the afternoon, the sun at its apex right before descent, without a single cloud in sight, and you’re fucking dying of dehydration. It doesn’t help that there's cafes perched on nearly every corner you look, and an iced drink never looked so mouthwatering. Even if you wanted a teeny-tiny sip, you can’t. You have no power to, because as trivial as it is compared to other events you’ve attended, everything’s on the line. Your editors need the scoop to regurgitate the same old content produced by almost every other media outlet patiently waiting in line, too. 

The truth is: it’s always been the same old same old since day one. Really, there’s little that crosses the line from both the interviewer and interviewee. It’s always the safest option, the cleanest question. Nothing goes beyond that; no one’s willing to step beyond that arbitrary boundary, even if it’s to spice up the headlines once in a while. No wonder your publication, along with many others, resorts to shady gossip and misleading articles with poor, if not any supporting evidence.

Still, you’re already there, and there’s nothing to lose in the long term—except a few hours of your time. 

One by one, both actors and idols alike hop off their black vans, wave to the crowd, speak to a few junkets in line, then head inside. Extra time willing, they take a couple of pictures with the screaming audience or some lucky fan. The entire process moves by in a robotic and formulaic way, it reinforces the negative stereotypes critics have about the industry—and you’re quietly one of those detractors. Nevertheless, you put aside your personal judgment, and follow along, the several dozens of photos you’ve taken of every star on the carpet as proof of your professionalism. 

The endless stream of appearances from both small and big names continue for at least another hour. Celebrity vans line up bumper-to-bumper to continue dropping more off; it might as well be a delivery store of people’s dreams. Out comes the next anticipated set of stars, another indistinguishable five-member girl group, all dressed in black. Your trigger fingers take as much as they can, as fast they can. The end result is several individual and group shots added to your camera roll, probably some of your best so far, as they are conveniently positioned right in front of you—at the center of your lens—compared to almost everyone else. Take another look at a few of the pictures you took, and you notice they’re staring right at you. 

Even as the red carpet wraps up, you don’t really think much of it. Inside, you’re called backstage, along with your fellow media representatives, where it’s basically a rinse and repeat of what happened outside, with longer, more forgiving intervals. At least you can finally rest your tired legs, and unlike the red carpet, where it’s a nonstop barrage of action, commercials actually give you, and the other journalists by extension, more room to breathe—the only positive ads will ever have for humanity.

Similarly, winners line up backstage after claiming their trophy and giving their typical, routine speech. Arriving at a room filled with nothing but media, they answer a different but familiar set of sanitary questions, then go back to their seats. The pacing difference between awards proper and red carpet is night and day, like hitting traffic at rush hour. Most of the time, everyone’s eyes are glued to the widescreen television while the show plays out, and it’s no different from a viewer watching at home. The energy inside the cramped room is laid back and relaxed; at times you forget you’re at an awards ceremony and not your local bar.

Really, it’s only the celebrities themselves who are in a hurry, speaking to the press like they’re rapping, tapping their feet like they haven’t stopped dancing, clear in their intention to leave in a hurry, which is the most relatable they can be with their audience. Most winners appear only once, with a few exceptions. The seven boys you see almost everywhere in Korea, even more so globally—make the most frequent returns, even closing out as the recipient of the grand prize, and their exit means everyone in the media is done for the night, too.

You should be going home by now. It’s getting late, and you’re practically done, except not really. As is tradition, there’s always a few afterparties being thrown around in celebration, and to your annoyance, you have to attend one. To make things worse, you’re not there to have fun and get wasted—not in the slightest. You’re there to take some more photos and get additional quotes, according to your superiors’ orders. There’s no added incentive or bonus in return for a few more hours of your time that could have been spent in more productive activities or resting for the next day, but you still power on because your job is never truly stable. One missed opportunity, one stolen scoop, and next thing you know, you’re being shown the door.

The lounge you end up going to might as well be a goddamn rave. Flashing lights, bodies crowding up the dance floor, deafening bass-boosted music blasting through the many speakers—it’s the most torturous parts of the job crammed into one colorful, insufferable hellhole. It’s less of a place where celebrities hang out and more of a grimy hangout where needy, desperate mad men and women look to get fucked. Before entering, you check the address and location on your phone. Perhaps there’s been a mistake, and you were given incorrect information. Nope. The text you receive from your supervisor reconfirms the location. Inside, you also find a few other journalists suffocating under the same toxic air like you. 

Squeezing between drunk bodies, mindlessly dancing like there’s no tomorrow, you sneak to the spacious bar, a temporary reprieve from the ear-splitting, soul-crushing madness. Whipping out several paper bills from your pocket, you slide them forward on the counter, mumbling to the barista your desired drink. At this point, you’d take anything, as long as it makes the rest of the night bearable.

“I’ll take two of what he’s having.” A feminine voice interjects, more bills than yours twirled between her fingertips, and the barista accepts her payment instead, overturning yours and sliding your money back.

From the blurred reflection on the counter, you swing your gaze to the right. A cute, young woman in a black, slinky dress takes the unoccupied seat beside you, flashes you an eye smile and cheeky grin back. 

“Sup,” she says, casually, like you’re two friends hanging out together. “Didn’t expect you to show up here as well.”

“Wait.” With furrowed brows, you point a finger at her. She looks awfully familiar, but you can’t really tell her apart from the countless well dressed people you’ve been seeing for hours on end. “Aren’t you from—”

“Oh? You interviewed me earlier!” 

Her answer doesn’t provide a single hint or narrows down who. You’ve taken countless pictures of different girl groups, and your lack of investment towards any of them means they’re basically indistinguishable in your eyes. Still, she looks young enough to be a member from one of the more junior groups. 

“Yeah, none of this is adding up.”

“Yuna? Shin Yuna? Does that name ring a bell to you?”

“Oh, of course it does!” Her name rings a few bells, but still, you’re not confident enough to confirm, and it shows in your tone. “Itzy, right?”

She nods positively, brimming with joy at the mention of her group’s name. “Yep yep!”

“Well, congrats on the award again,” you reply, reaching out your hand as a friendly gesture. You don’t really remember what award her group won or how many trophies they won, nor do you have the willpower to care, but a little kindness goes a long way. “You had a great performance as well.”

“Thanks!” Smiling toothily, Yuna bows while reciprocating your motion, meeting halfway for a respectful handshake. Her grip tightens for a brief moment before quickly pulling back. “I appreciate your comment.”

Timely. The barista returns to you with two drinks you forgot you ordered. She takes them both, hands you one, and you both raise your glasses to the sky before clinking them together. 

“Cheers.”

With hearty spirits, you take a little sip from your drink, while Yuna downs a quarter of her beverage.  The sweet taste elicits a cheery, wide smile on her lips, compels her to down more. After only the second swig, half of her drink is gone. Both of you can’t be more different when it comes to enjoying alcohol; you’re one to ease into it slowly, while she rushes into the feeling. Then you take note of the fact that she looks quite young—she’s the youngest of her group, in fact—having just come of age, and drinking appears to be a fresh concept to her. No wonder she looks so enthusiastic and pumped about indulging liquor.

“So,” Yuna places her glass on the counter with an audible thud and peeps you with comically wide, childlike eyes. “What brings you here?”

“Not much,” you say, casually, as you stare at the stainless glass and the yellow liquid contained within. Its bubbliness fascinates you, captures your scrutiny like it’s the most interesting thing around, like a work of art in an exhibit. “I should be the one interviewing you, and to get some more information.”

“Information about what?” 

“I don’t know. Something to fill up the paper, I guess.” You inch the drink closer to you, inspecting it from top to bottom like some type of rare artifact—something to occupy your idle, bored mind. 

“You make it sound like you’re spying on us,” retorts Yuna, playfully resting her chin against her clenched fist leaning on the table. Her eyes take a cursory look, examining you from head-to-toe, finding something around your chest that intrigues her. “I mean, good try though.”

“It’s not that kind of information,” you reply, aware that it’s spoken with hyperbole, but still, there’s a difference between safe, journalistic reporting and straight-up criminal stalking. 

“You’re really terrible at this tabloid job, you know?” mocks Yuna, poking her finger at the camera partially hidden behind your coat. On her lips is a cocky, teasing smirk, with the clear intent to toy with you. She’s leaning closer, eager to watch your expressions crumble little by little. “It’s like you’re begging for information.”

If only she weren’t so cute and innocent in how she goes about it, you’d probably wave the white flag, give up halfway, and profess—or straight up leave.

“And is that supposed to dissuade me?” says you, flatly, completely unbothered. Your eyes make contact with hers, staring at her with a piercing leer. Instead of being intimidated, her smile widens, and her shiny teeth are blinding; she knows she’s caught you under her trap, slowly pulling on your most sensitive strings, and her words have a subtle effect on you. 

“If it could, yes,” replies Yuna, peering through your gaze with widening eyes, looking at you with heightened intrigue, unfazed by your shallow threat. “But since you’re so determined and stubborn to get some information for that shitty paper of yours, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Do tell.” 

Suddenly, she tears her gape away from you, turns her head left and right for any crossing sign, then back at you with a wider, suspicious smirk. “Not here.”

—————

You expected her to take you to a peaceful location, like the back rooms or one of the many uninhabited private booths. For someone like her, a K-pop idol, surely there’s a van waiting for her outside, ready to depart on call. 

A bathroom stall was far from it.

The moment she stood up, walked away, then looked back with a different, expressive glance, that was an open invitation for you. Forget about the fact that she’s an idol and a celebrity first; in those caramel eyes was a glance that was forbidding and scandalous, but alluring enough to draw you in without a moment of hesitation. Not once you questioned where she was leading you. You trailed closely behind, drinking in the young starlet’s hourglass figure, perfectly shaped for a skintight dress that made her stand out from everyone in the crowd. With such dreamlike beauty walking in a sea of commoners, you thought all eyes would be on her, as usual, but the opposite happened—it was you who became hypnotized by her.

Eventually, you both sneak past everyone, which proves to be relatively trivial, locking yourselves together inside an empty bathroom secluded on the club’s second floor. Yuna looks around the spacious restroom for possible occupants, only to find every one of the five available stalls completely unoccupied. Despite how hidden you are from the rest of the party, the music echoes loud enough to pass through the walls.

“Perfect,” she says, taking another scope then to the widescreen mirror, possibly referring to the setting, and to herself. She looks at her reflection with a confident, proud grin, and your suspicion is proven correct. “I’m pretty sure you know where this is going, right?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, nodding. Two people, alone in a bathroom. You know damn well what’s about to happen.

This isn’t the first time a star has offered themselves to you behind closed doors. It’s an industry secret, but open news shared among most publications and certain names that get around. It’s these private affairs where most of the money comes from. Each incident generates revenue in exchange for keeping such filthy secrets classified and hidden. Can’t say you’re clean or innocent in the issue; you’ve had a few experiences with some of Korea’s biggest film stars in exchange for money too, but this is your first time with a K-pop idol, and they say they’re the ones who are deepest in the circle.

“Good, I guess I don’t have to tell you how fucking horny I am,” says Yuna, casual in her delivery of such shocking filth. “And the rumors are true,” she continues, flashing you a flirtatious wink. Her fingers play with the straps holding her dress together, dragging them along her shoulders.

“That you’re a slut?” 

“We’re all sluts, baby,” she replies, approaching you with a seductive gaze that can render anyone paralyzed, and you’re no exception. With a cute, fresh face like hers, It’s unbelievable and quite frankly dumbfounding how leisurely she says it, like it’s the norm for everyone in her profession—and it’s sufficient evidence to prove that case. Then again, she’s still a teen, and you’re on the edge of a really dangerous line. Sure, having sexual favors with anyone in the entertaiment industry is already a line crossed, but this is a whole layer below with far more grave implications, and here she comes, forcefully dragging you far beyond the point of no return. Really, with your line of work, this was bound to happen eventually, but you never expected it to come from such an unexpected person—a Korean idol, your least favorite kind of celebrity.

But this is the moment where all of that changes.

“Still have some battery left in that camera, right?” Yuna points at the handheld camera dangling freely on your chest again. “Go and take some.”

You incorrectly predicted her to jump right into the action, but you’re not bothered in the slightest. You were already taking a gallery’s worth of mental pictures of her sexy body, made hotter by her deliberate, seductive teasing, but having a physical reference for future personal use is helpful too. 

So you pull the camera from its strap to take photos of the frisky maknae while she does many poses for you. Even behind a lens, her beauty is so ethereal, it doesn’t compare in the slightest to looking at her with the naked eye. She exudes a perfect balance of cute and sultry, a trait you’ve rarely seen among the many actors and actresses you’ve met before. Perhaps this is the greatest strength of an idol, and you’re left wanting more. 

Yuna then approaches you, occupied taking as many pictures you can of the idol, running your remaining memory dry. She drops to her knees, looks at you with those wide, inviting eyes, and her fingers wrap around the edges of your pants.

“Don’t stop,” she says, pouting her lips upward, in the direction of your camera to emphasize her command, and you know you can’t do otherwise. Photography isn’t in your skill set, yet she trusts you with her life—her career—and there’s pressure beginning to amount in your head. Surely she’s not that desperate to the point where she’s asking a random journalist to get her quick fill of excitement.

The spark in her eyes, the determination on her brows, and the carefree smile on her lips—this isn’t her first rodeo, and it certainly won’t be her last. 

Yuna turns her attention away from your curious, troubled gaze to your pants, unzipping the hindering garment down while you continue capturing every still, every frame of the young woman in such a vulnerable, lewd position. These photos would spell disaster should they ever leak out of this room, and it’s even more dangerous when it’s a young group, a rising name who has a stake on the global stage. Even so, you continue snapping photos at her request, fingers pretty much playing a single repeating key on the trigger, you might as well have glued your index to the button.

“I knew it,” she murmurs, the erect tent on your groin area poking into view. Seconds later, your boxers join your pants on the floor, springs your cock free from its clothed prison. “I’m gonna have a lot of fun tonight. I don’t know what the other girls are doing, but they’ll regret not being here. It’s fine, I don’t feel like sharing this.”

With your hard cock next to the pretty, demure idol, your involvement can’t be any more obvious. Yuna immediately notices the sudden quietness of the camera, so she looks up at you again, notes your flushed cheeks, the little beads of sweat forming on your head, and giggles. 

“Really now?” she says, lifting a puzzled eyebrow, fingers slowly gripping around your shaft. You try to resist, show a little opposition, but it’s superficial; before long, you can’t hold in the jolt of pleasure coursing through your nerves and utter a low, muffled moan. “You’re perfectly fine with taking sensitive pictures of me, but you’ll say no to this? You’ve said it yourself. I’m a slut—a slut for good cock.”

Her soft, dainty tongue latches onto your tip, rendering you more speechless. Can’t say she’s wrong, and telling her otherwise would make you look worse. Bodily ecstasy makes your senses go haywire; your hands struggle to hold the camera, but you manage to save all that important material with one hand and let the other wander down to caress and stroke her long, auburn hair. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to take in the sight of Yuna kissing and pumping your cock, and the knot in your tongue loosens, releasing delicate, breathy moan after moan.

It’s clear that Yuna’s done this before, experienced with the art of sexual pleasure, like it’s her primary line of profession, and she knows all the tricks and weaknesses to get to the core of any man or woman. At this point, you’ve practically neglected her demand, but the soft, intimate kissing sounds she makes as she revels in your cock give you a solid reference point to take more mental pictures of her. The camera in your grasp has been set aside on the sink. Both of your hands grip on the young woman’s brown locks, straddling a line between gentle and assertive as she gradually takes your length into her mouth.

“F-fuck, Yuna—” you mutter, having difficulty to formulate words, forcing your brain to resort to moans and grunts like a baby.

She doesn’t react or budge in the slightest; she only works harder and harder. The idol remains steadfast, filling her mouth up to your base, generously coating your shaft with her saliva. Her fingers dig into your thighs, pressing you harshly against the sink as your moan turns into an echoed groan. The quick burst of pain you feel is overtaken by the continuous pleasure flowing throughout your veins, like sexual indulgence is the only thing your body understands. 

You try to fight your overwhelmed senses, hoping to catch even a tiny glimpse of the beautiful woman giving you the best blowjob in the world, and it proves to be an intense struggle. Not once are you cognizant about tossing the idol’s head back and forth, even with the audible, echoey plop plop sounds raising several warning flags saying you’re too aggressive. Eventually, you manage to lift one eye open to see Yuna, completely immersed in her own pleasure, diligently sucking your cock while mixes of drool and precum splatter on her chin, her collarbones, and down to her black dress, leaving even more apparent hints for everyone to see.

In the end, it’s only you who gets to look at the different, ruined side of Yuna. Here’s a popular star, larger than life in the eyes of many, down on her knees, subservient to the most human and primal urges, just like anyone else. A wave of cum gushes into her mouth right as she releases your cock like spilled milk. Your burst of seed waterfalls, filling her chin and her dress with a dirty, sticky coat of white. Her eyes pop open, surprised at how filthy she looks, and how early she made you cum.

“Oh God,” says Yuna, pressing a hand on her glistening chin, then to her dress top. Gooey strings connect her fingers and the expensive, messed up fabric. “I made you cum early didn’t I?”

You’re catching heavy breaths, looking up at the ceiling, staring at the blinding lights like you’re seeing heaven. You might as well be; she ripped your soul out of your body with only her tongue.

“Shit, Yuna, I—”

Returning to her mischievous ways, her laughter echoes throughout the bathroom, poking fun at your overwhelmed state, like it’s the first time you’ve had sex. She’s proud of herself for making you cum with a mere blowjob, and she flicks her digits to coat them with more of your seed as her reward. Lapping them up into a sizable sample, she takes her fingers into her mouth for a taste.

“Yeah.” She rises to your level, licks her fingers clean, decorates her pink lips with your seed with a wide, charming, cheeky grin. Your marks are prominent on the grooves of her lips. “You’re so yummy.”

Lowering your gaze back down to earth, you finally see the ravaged mess you’ve done to Yuna. Spurts of white on her face, neck, and many puddles that have stained her dress. Seeing the utter disbelief in your expressions, she plays into the naughtiness by pressing her cum stained fingers on her inviting, visible cleavage.

With a free hand snaking down to your crotch, she pumps you back to hardness, holding a steady gaze of lust with you, the fire in her loins freshly renewed. “I know you want more. I want more.” Her other hand reaches to one strap, pulls it further down her arm, then does the same with the remaining cord, freely exposing her sizable breasts, drawing your eyes toward her chest. It’s difficult to look away, especially when someone like her knows how to captivate with a face like hers, natural with how expressive she is, only because she allowed you to stare elsewhere.

You gasp and sigh under the tight duress Yuna puts on your groin, giving her more confidence and a stronger hold on you. Grasp her bare shoulder with one hand, wander around her waist with the other, carefully crossing the lines of fabric and skin until you reach her surprisingly round ass. Her features slowly melt and eyes widen as she leans her face close, breath tensing up in anticipation, lips repressing her groan, practically whispering to you, “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Yuna’s eyes pop out, caught unawares as you take her body and flip your positions around. She's now pressed against the bathroom sink with you assuming control. Her hands hold onto your shoulders, still fixated to your eyes like she sees stars within them. With the strength of your hand gripped to her ass, you lift her up partially so that her feet no longer touch the ground, and her legs slowly part, giving you an opening. Your other hand ruffles through her short skirt, digs into her tunnel, and she winces.

“Oh, fuck—” Her nails dig into the fabric of your shirt as you feel a slick, wet sensation on your fingers. Her features are so expressive, they’re best actress worthy. She shudders, teeth gritting intensely as you withdraw your digits. In an instant, her calm, confident attitude fades at your slightest touch, and she grows impatient and desperate. “Give me your cock now! I need you to fill me—”

You capture her lips in a passionate, fervid kiss, shutting her up as a distraction while you line your erect cock between her sopping cunt. She whines into the smooch, tries to break away, but you pull her in, let your tip run up and down around her wet entrance, and she hums musically. In turn, she pushes you as close to her as humanly possible; you might as well be practically inside her. Her lips curl into a frown as she pushes her dress further down, bunching it with the bottom of her skirt, her now naked, sweaty midriff pressed against your shirt.

Drawing your face away from hers, you take a second to admire the spry starlet, once dolled up to near perfection, now as filthy and human as the typical clubgoer. She doesn’t reciprocate your adoring gaze, annoyed at the small amount of time wasted, when that time could have been spent already impaling yourself deep inside her. It’s not like you’ve spent the whole day salivating and taking pictures of her.

“Wait.” Avert your eyes from the idol to the camera you’ve forgotten for a moment. She kisses you madly, showering your cheeks with wet, soppy marks filled with lipstick and sticky cum, but it doesn’t faze you in the slightest. You know simple distractions don't bother you by now. 

Camera pointed at you both, you return your attention to her, finally giving her what she wants without any further delay. With a single smooth stroke, you plunge your cock into her wet pussy, and it flexes right back in a brief move of resistance, but you push deeper into her heat and it takes the breath right out of your lungs. 

“F-f-fuck, Yuna, you’re—tight.”

The spry woman lifts her head back, exposes her smooth, flawless neck, uttering a long, breathy sigh before it turns into a pitched whine. Her nails poke into your nape, clutches deep into your skin, body sliding up and down along with your cock as you acclimate to the suffocating tightness of her cunt. There’s no sense of rhythm or pace in the manner you pound her, only focused on chasing that sensual high, using her model figure as canvas for your pleasure.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s—” Yuna whines with each slam of your hips, slack jawed and drooling, eyes completely shut, enveloped under the gripping force of your cock spearing her tight, sensitive hole. “Your cock feels so—”

Her sentence fades into another series of whimpers and cries of bliss. Seeing her tits bounce and ripple with each rock of her body arouses you, and they draw you in, more than any other part of her. Yuna’s body was an open invitation for you to take, which you gladly do. 

Bury your face between her chest, cupping her soft, creamy flesh within your grasp, then take her taut nipples into your mouth, going back and forth between both breasts, giving them the equal amount of attention they rightfully deserve.

You continue to fuck the maknae into submission, giving the camera a good show, already more entertaining and exciting after only a few minutes than a four-hour-long awards ceremony. The artist is treated way better, and so is the cameraman by being an active participant in the action, dictating the pace the way he sees fit. As it goes, you push yourself quicker and quicker, trying to wrap up the show, plunging deep into her constricting walls, drenching your cock with more of her wet juices. 

The many expressions she makes as you touch her and ruin her are award worthy; they can belong in a fancam reel and it wouldn’t be any more different. Hell, she’s more provocative and intense than her typical routine music performance. Her features curl into almost every emotion a human can experience, from pain and pleasure, evoking a strong, unforgettable image, another mental picture to save in your memories, more detailed than any photograph. 

Then there’s the sound—the music is as loud as ever, blocking out the endless stream of cries she makes. Yuna’s tone is high-pitched, moaning out a blissful song as you stretch her pussy out, with the little flap of wet skin against skin backing her up, and it tickles your ears in all the right spots. 

You slide a finger from her breast to her crotch, feel the surging wetness coat your digit, then lower her to the floor—but only for a moment. While Yuna remains staggered in ecstasy, you turn the woman around, facing the mirror, before you reacquaint your cock inside her drenched cunt, and it’s like you never stopped fucking her. She moans, and moans—and moans.

“You’re so fucking hot, Yuna,” you whisper in her ear. Her back arches as you wreck her from behind. Staring at your reflection, you note your smug expression. For once, you look really good in the mirror, especially with the woman in front of you. 

Her expressions say it all: she likes being fucked. The way her smile briefly flashes before melting between thrusts, she knows her body is built for sex—perfect for a slut like her. Even she can’t help but look proud at how drop dead gorgeous she is, especially in that lewd, erotic position. 

Using her expressive, satisfied face as motivation, you piston quicker and quicker, glancing at the young idol flaunting her many charms off like she’s in front of the cameras, like the bright lights are on her, like an audience is watching her. Your mind is centered on her too; in fact, she’s the only one in your thoughts, with each thrust intended to make her sing, make her perform, make her act. 

“Gonna—gonna—” she cries, hoarsely, barely able to muster up the strength to formulate coherent speech. 

“Cum on my cock Yuna,” you say, whispering in her ear again, pulling on her triggers. “Cum on my cock.”

The words are more than enough to set her off. Yuna’s mouth goes wide, forming an ‘O’ shape, her body going rigid and quaking as she loses control of herself to her bliss. She orgasms; it’s powerful and lengthy, dragging you further into her inescapable whirlpool, and really, it only accelerates your own forthcoming climax, and you fuck her as she rides out her peak, savoring the remaining time you have left before you drown in your own high as well.

“I can feel you throbbing hard for me,” she says, completely washed over by her own dwindling orgasm. “Cum in me. Cum for this slut. Don’t ever think about pulling out of this wet pussy meant for you!”

Gripping your hands between her dirty chestnut locks, you try to resist a little more, show that you can last longer than she initially thought, but ultimately give in for a second time. On a deep, violent stroke, you make a lengthy, incomprehensible sound that might as well be the relief you feel after holding in that burning sensation in your loins. You release hot spurt after spurt into her pussy, her name dripping from your lips like you’re thanking God for release, and you feel a sticky, gooey tingling on your thighs.

Eventually, your hips wind down along with your orgasm, until they come to a full stop. You rest your head forward, laying on the sink beside her, still embedded inside her. The moans that filled the room fade in the background of the club’s thunderous music, but both of you are oblivious and tired to hear anything except for deep, heavy breaths.

After an uncertain period of time—could have been a few minutes or a few hours, you have a timely day off tomorrow, so it’s the least of importance—you come to your senses first and check on the camera you’ve set on the side. Yuna follows shortly after, washing her hands clean, but it doesn’t cleanse her of her filth.

“So?” she says, trying in vain to look neat. She looks at the camera in your hand while you scan through the reel. “How do I look?”

You present the gallery to her, showing her every single ilicit and raunchy photo you’ve taken of her, until you get to the part where you reveal that you’ve recorded yourselves having sex. It’s crude, it’s pornographic, it’s perfect.

She pouts her lips, gives an approving nod. “We look so good together. I need you to send me these via email.”

“Of course,” you say, nonchalantly—like this is a completely regular exchange—like she’s not an idol and you’re a journalist with an integrity to uphold, but all that’s thrown out the window now. “When I get on my computer tomorrow.”

After you both clean up to the best of your abilities, Yuna gestures at you to wait as she unlocks the bathroom door, then slowly turns the knob. Not once has it knocked and distracted you. Maybe you’ve missed a few, but still, it was probably drowned out by the music and the moaning. As a result, you were left unbothered the entire time, so perhaps Yuna’s plan was foolproof right from the start—

“Hey!” 

Yuna’s eyes grow wide in shock, followed by yours. On the other side of the door are four women waiting, well dressed as she is, who look just as surprised as both of you. 

“Who’s that guy you’re with?” asks the woman with dragon-like eyes, tone expressing disappointment at her member. Her gaze is similar to Yuna’s, studying you from head to toe like she did.

Then they all say in unison, “And why weren’t you sharing him with us?”

(A/N: Yuna looked incredible in that dress she wore for The Fact Music Awards, and the fact she's sharing so many pics makes it even better. Surprised there's nothing based on this material, but I understand why. Boys Like You is really good, go stream it! Thank you for reading!)

[moonrazeeclipse]

You're a mess (Le sserafim Kazuha)

“Come on! We’re leaving in an hour, so finish packing whatever you’ll bring!” says your mother, fist knocking on the door like a sandbag. With the constant stomping on the stairs, you’d think there’s some kind of construction or renovation happening, but bags are in the process of being moved out slowly. You’re in the process of vacating the house for the beach, at least for a week.

“Yeah, just give me a few!” you yell back, your default line to her at this point, it might as well be your catchphrase. You know that she knows it won’t take a few. As family, it’s all customary, but she never fails to miss giving you a stark reminder, not even once.

Turning from the bedroom door—sealed shut for an extra layer of security, like the movable desk isn’t enough to let anyone in—you look toward your bed, an utter mess with sheets and pillows scattered all over the room. It’s an abominable sight everywhere you look—except for the figure laying on it.

“Gosh, your place is such a damn mess,” says the young girl, auburn hair flowing everywhere like they’re part of the clutter. With how relaxed she looked, she might as well have just woken up, ignoring the part where she’s dressed for a day out in the sun. “I mean, how old are you again?”

“This isn’t the time to joke around, Zuha,” you reply, offended, while you run to the bathroom, then to the closet, then to the three luggages on the opposite end of the room. Objects are carried from one place to another without purpose, without reason. Rinse and repeat. You’re directionless and aimless, like this is your first time experiencing living in such a chaotic environment, when in reality, this setting has molded you to who you are now. 

“Come on, help me gather my things,” you continue, shuffling random items in your hands as if you have no idea what they are or what function they serve, and she promptly obliges. Thanks to Kazuha’s help, what could have been a laborious period of cleaning and packing is completed in less than five minutes. Sure, your grooming kit is packed with your chips and soda cans, and your game console is stored next to your swimming gear, but you can sort that out later when you’re at your destination.

“And that’s about it, really,” you say, giving your girlfriend a high-five for your combined efforts —when really, she carried most of the work for you. Look at the bags you’ve prepared; they’re extremely bloated to the point of bursting open at any given moment.

“You sure about this? I mean, we’re only going to be away for like a week. It’s not like we’re not leaving the country or anything.” Lifting an eyebrow, Kazuha looks at your baggage, then turns to you, pushing her lip out, showing concern.

“Pretty sure I have everything I need!” you blurt out, nodding to her like everything’s fine, but your plastic smile and heightened tone betrays you. Most of your room is cleared of all its litter and items, mostly stowed away in your luggage as your ‘travel essentials.’ In comparison, Kazuha has prepared only one suitcase for clothing and one backpack for her personal belongings.

“Do you travel like this all the time?” she asks, more of a joke rather than an inquiry, knowing you’ll more than likely never use most of these extra possessions. “I mean, your parents only share one luggage—”

“Yeah! I’m gonna have lots of fun, and I have everything I need!” The words leave you as strangely aggressive, and even though you’re beside her, you’re verbally flailing your arms in self-defense. 

“Sure you do,” she replies, as if mumbling to herself, but still audible for you to hear. Then, she looks at her wristwatch. “We still have fifty minutes. I think we could sort out your bags so it doesn’t blow up—”

“What’s wrong with packing everything?” Face her with an upset expression on her face. “I thought you’d be okay with it, too.”

She blushes right as she looks at you, charmed at your uptightness—acting all cute and sweet, knowing how to make anyone go ‘aww’ and give you a free pass for your misdeeds—but she’s not like mom, who falls for your bluff every single time. “You don’t really need most of those, you know?”

“You know, you’re sounding a lot like mom and I don’t like it.” You pout and puff your cheeks in a last ditch effort to soften the potential blow, but she remains firm against you.

Keeping her gaze at your level, she walks over to your inflated baggage. Defensive as you are, you do nothing to stop her from opening one of your bags and clearing most of the burdensome junk inside. 

“Well, I’m not your mother, but I sure as hell am as concerned as she is,” replies your girlfriend, tone showing frustration—a rare expression. She rummages through the second and third bags, filters out all the unnecessary weight surgically like the first, and gathers them together in a garbage bag picked out from your portable desk. As she slides the desk aside to open the bedroom door and eject your garbage from the room, you’re powerless. 

“How long have you been living like this? Even when I’m here, almost every single day?” asks Kazuha, more of a demand and less of a joke as she closes the door behind her. “I should be sick and done with you, but thank your lucky stars I’m not.”

This was her breaking point, and you knew right away. 

If the little details she makes aren’t enough, her words make it oh-so apparent that you fucked up—severely. The slight force exerted when she swings the door open and close, the sharp, intimidating furrow of her brows, and the blunt drop of her words—she’s the sweetest person you know, a parent’s dream child, and the closest thing to an angel in disguise, whose patience borders on infinite, and gentle with everything and everyone. Now here she is, showing the side you’d never want anyone to see, rear her head with disdain and hate toward you. She’s not screaming her lungs out or destroying your room—at least more than you already have—but it breaks your heart watching her turn against you like this.

And it was all completely avoidable, had you been a better person.

You’d happily forego the trip if it means she’s her usual sweet, bright self again. Hell, you’d happily give up anything she asked if the end result was her looking at you fondly once more.

She sits on the edge of your bed—hers now—and takes her phone out from her pocket. You’re never this terrified of opening your mouth to speak to another person, even to your parents. Clear that lump in your throat. The next words you deliver either prolong or kill this relationship.  

“Zuha,” you say, and it comes out as a soft, terrified whisper, barely audible enough to make her notice you dropping her name. As she turns her gaze toward you, there’s still a strong ire behind those striking eyes. She doesn’t respond, doesn’t note (at least you think she doesn’t) the stiffness on your features, your fingers nervously pressing on each other, only looking on coldly as you force your brain to think maturely for once. Sure, she can wait on that mattress all day, but there’s the self-imposed pressure of time weighing on your head, as if it’s telling you, “If you don't fix it now, it will be ruined forever.”

In theory, it should be so easy. The words are right there, firmly indented on the tip of your tongue, ready to let go when you are; you just have to say them. But then, there’s a few variables that make you hesitant: your sincerity, your expression, your tone. What should be a simple apology becomes an intense, thorough examination of human psychology, and you never prepared for it. 

Still, it doesn’t hurt to try, and you’ll have to live with the consequences, one way or another.

“I’m sorry.”

She lifts an eyebrow, her eyes slowly widening with surprise. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.” You can’t hold your stare at her any longer because of shame, and tears are beginning to form on your eyes. It feels as if the light has been removed from you, and you don’t deserve to look at someone as angelic as her. She’s been sweet for the longest time, you’ve taken her kindness and patience for granted. Even worse, she’s younger than you, the only child in her family compared to you and your three siblings, yet she’s shown more maturity than you, with every resource and advantage handed to you on a silver spoon.

“Gosh, Zuha, you’re right. Why are you still here? I hate that you’re my girl, because you deserve way better than this. I know Kirin’s gonna give you that ‘I told you so’ comment when she finds out you had to clean out my damn room. No wonder I’m alone and I have no friends. I’m an irredeemable mess.”

You’re angry—not at her, but at yourself. Only now do you truly realize how deep of a pit you’ve dug yourself in. Even your parents couldn’t get you to open up like this. Maybe this is the way to make things right, but you’re certain she’ll be gone from your life at the top of the hour, no matter how much you cry and beg.

“I don’t care anymore. Leave.” You point your finger at the door, ashamed to show your grief-stricken face to her. It should have been a fun time for you both to strengthen your bonds, but it looks like you’ll be spending it contemplating and loathing in your sadness and weaknesses.

As you grab your fixed bags, you feel a gentle arm on your back. Turn around and she’s right behind you—smiling. 

“I’m not going to leave you,” she says, tenderly, spinning you around then wrapping you in her arms, tugging you close. 

Your cheeks burn a fiery red, caught unawares by her sudden affection. “What?” 

“You’re a mess,” chides Kazuha, pulling you closer to her warmth. Her grin has grown as wide as her unending love. “But you’re my mess. You think I’ll break-up with you because of something as small as this? Gosh, why are you so overdramatic?”

It’s difficult to take it all in: the lowest lows to highest highs in a matter of minutes, especially when she’s peppering your face with a flurry of intimate kisses, and all of a sudden, you’re falling together on the bed, then she’s on top of you a moment later, but there’s still a lesson to be learned—at least you’ll save it for another day.

“Thirty minutes before we leave!” yells mom from the floor below, mildly sounding. Kazuha withdraws her face from yours, looks behind, checks the locked door once, then twice for good measure. Your hands are gripped on her back, past her denim jacket, and glued to her creamy skin. 

“We should save it when we’re there,” you say, slightly lifting your head for a glance at the door, expressing worry. “I mean, we’re already showered and all—”

“Don’t care. I want it now.” Kazuha pins you back onto the sheets again, showers you with another round of loving pecks until she lands a passionate, deep one directly on your lips. Her hands are all over you, caressing your hair, down to your neck, on the fabric of your shirt. With nails so sharp, they can dig through your material and draw blood. You can’t really contend, not when you’re beneath her grip, and she can easily toss you around with her surprising level of strength.

A simple apology isn’t enough, and this is a form of compensation or penance, at least you think it is. You sink further into her kiss, hook your fingers on the hem of her denim jacket like hers on your clothes. The bed gently rumbles underneath you as she playfully rocks you while making out. She’s deeply engrossed in the smooch, like your lips are her primary source of life, and she’s determined to make sure anyone who sees knows who it belongs to. 

Eventually, she does pull back, and you exchange a shedding of clothes. Kazuha lifts your shirt over her head, tosses it onto the floor to be completely forgotten. You do the same with her blue jacket; slide it down her shoulders to join your garment off the bed. Afterward, your eyes meet hers in an intimate, loving gaze. There’s less than half an hour on the clock before you have to leave, and you’re both aware of that, but when her angelic eyes are on yours, as if the light has returned to shine on you, time is the least of your concern.

Her lips press and stain yours, sealing its complete ownership to her. Then she marks you down to your jawline, neck, your bare chest, and belly, in that order, etching strawberry colored lipstick stains on your skin. With her face settling at the edge of your pants, her eyes snap wide at how close she is to your growing tent. So she looks at you, breathing tensely and faint from her love, waiting for your approval. Her smile is so innocent, so charming—a contrast to the eroticness slowly building up—that you can’t deny her request.

How could you say no to a woman with a sweet face like hers?

At the drop of your first nod, her fingers immediately seize your zipper and effortlessly slides it down, dragging your boxers along. Your erection springs up, and her eyes alight with awe, like it’s the first time she’s seen your cock. Slightly you lift your head up, only to be knocked back down to earth when she grabs your shaft with her hand, as if crushing you like a can. 

Uttering a low, breathy groan, you mumble out, “Shit Z-Zuha, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“I know,” she says, that sweet, loving smile glazed on her features, loosening her grip on your cock a little, stroking you at a steady pace. “Just give me a minute.”

What should be a quick minute lasts a lot longer than you imagine. Your airy, prolonged sighs, mixed with the occasional gentle drop of her name are the only sounds that break the stillness radiating throughout the bedroom while Kazuha casually pumps you, forcing quick bursts of precum to spill onto her tender, but firm digits. It’s still relatively early in the day, and you haven’t had lunch yet, but you’re falling dizzier and dizzier, as if you’ve been directly under the hot sun for hours. 

“Here I come,” she says, releasing your shaft from her hand. You hear her loud and clear, but you’re left spiraling from pleasure. She briefly hops off the bed to shed her jeans and underwear before she climbs atop you again. On her lips is a soft smile, suppressing a quiet giggle as you look weak beneath her. 

Kazuha plants a kiss on your temple. It’s soft, but almost emphatic enough to lull you to sleep. Lining herself directly above your erection, her tunnel brushes against your tip, and you both shudder at the slightest touch of each other. Slowly but surely, she lowers her hips down, and you’re lying helplessly, watching as your length gradually disappears inside her. You’re not checking the time, and although her hands are pressed on your torso, you couldn’t waste another second without her pussy folded to your cock. 

Completely impaled to your base, her eyes go shut, and her mouth hangs open, releasing a whiny expletive while her nails dig into your skin. Your eyes briefly go out as well, only to snap open at the mild, audible racket from the ground floor. Your relationship is openly supported by your family and hers, but they definitely won’t approve of this stage—at least not yet. 

“Zuha,” you groan, fighting off the surge of pleasure from her suffocating pussy flexing on your cock. “We gotta stay—”

“Shhhhh.” Kazuha rasps, hinting a little hostility, shuffles a finger toward your lips while she acclimates to your hardness. She’s still soft-sounding, as always, but when it comes to sex, she transforms into completely different person, and it always catches you off-guard. “God, you’re stretching me out.”

Your family is still busy packing downstairs, as proven by the constant slam of the front door and luggage wheels rolling around. It’s a loud commotion, enough to block her whiny, lewd moans from detection. She’s atop you, using you as a toy and a conduit for her pleasure, and you’re on the opposite end, with the last of your will denying her, when you’ve been in the wrong—until now. So you finally give her control, and she kindly does to you in return. You’re connected by two pairs of hands placed on the other’s body: hers pressed on your chest as support, and yours on her slender, toned midriff that puts you to shame most of the time. 

Her hips roll up and down at a slow and steady tempo, delicate and purposeful in stretching herself out with your entire length. She bites her lip, trying to repress her bliss; the immense wave of pleasure she feels with each drop onto your waist makes her scream. Even with the gradual roughness in her movements when it comes to riding you, she’s still graceful, mesmerizing, and hypnotizing, down to her soft, passionate expressions.

“Yes, yes, fuck that feels so good,” she says, tossing her head back gently, lifting her sleeveless shirt over her head within seconds, leaving her as naked as you. Your gaze is magnetized to her newly exposed chest, with her round, compact breasts with their stiff nipples attracting every bit of your attention. It’s only temporary, as she lifts herself before going down on you again, and you share a collective groan of bliss, with your eyes going dark. “I want this cock inside me all day long, that’s how good you fucking feel.”

Her fingers press back down to those familiar deep marks on your chest, still riding you at her tempo, like she’s got you on cruise control. She was always a slow love maker, always preferring the sex to be steady and drawn out, but if they weren’t always the best kind. At this point, you’re certain you’ll be left behind and forgotten, and she’ll still be grinding on you until the sun goes down, but you can’t deny how incredible how suffocating and wet her pussy feels, coating your cock liberally with her wet juices. 

With your hands sliding down her arched back, you meet her halfway, reciprocating each slam of her hips with an upstroke of your cock. Your senses take in everything right in front of you: her constantly changing but still pleasure-ridden face, the endless stream of moans with profanities laced in between, and the steady sound of her ass slapping on your shaft. There’s little to make her change her mind, especially when she’s so into it, so into the act, that you might as well forget about leaving and prepare to stay home when she’s finally done with you.

“We’re almost leaving! Fifteen minutes!” shouts your dad from the ground floor, a timely distraction from the otherwise excessive pleasure drowning you. It doesn’t affect Kazuha in the slightest, and if anything, only seems to arouse and motivate her to do the opposite by firmly pressing you deeper onto your bed as it trembles with your erotic motions. Your bags are still in your room, and the sounds below are dying down, and so will your secret if you don’t keep track of the time.

“Zuha—” you try to blurt, only to be met with her familiar index finger blocking the passage between your lips. She refuses to stop until she’s filled to the brim, and she’ll get hers no matter what. Her eyes snap open, looks at the panicked expression on your face, then to the arms wrapped around her back. With her hand, she leads yours down to her supple, plump ass before planting a kiss on the bridge of your nose.

“I know,” she says, with a flattering, but charming and innocuous grin. She raises her hips and slams them down, makes you grunt sharply while keeping that cheeky smile on her face. She knows. She doesn’t want to. She has no intention to.

Even if she doesn’t outright say it, she’s practically forcing you into submission. Looks are so deceiving, yet you fall for her every single time—and with a cute, endearing face and personality like hers, why wouldn’t you?

The growing thumps on the stairs draw both your gazes to the bedroom door, and your heart is beating wildly from a mix of stress and pleasure. Your thoughts return to the bags placed on the side of the bed—reminder of the short time you have left—and you’re slapping yourself internally for not stopping her before it spiraled out of control. Then there’s Kazuha, bouncing and fucking herself on your cock, purposefully moaning with rising cadence in an act of defiance, going against everything you’ve thought about her. 

“So—close,” she purrs, toying with your chest, giving it playful slaps, as her barely coherent words quickly fall by the wayside, returning to whines and needy mewls. Her urgency to release breaks her control, and her pace quickens; she’s crashing herself onto your cock, foregoing the slow, comfortable grind she’s natural with to chase that high a stone’s throw away. 

Kazuha’s orgasm takes you suddenly, and her sweat filled face, once a realm higher than you, is suddenly inches apart from yours. Her body shudders and trembles, every muscle and nerve in her tensing up from such a powerful climax. The vicious grip of her sopping cunt, freshly drenched with waves of slick, drives you close to breaking point as well, intent on pumping all your hot, creamy seed into her. 

She continues to moan and spew curses, albeit in decreasing tones, as her hips slow down, until her limber, slim figure falls right into your hands, quivering as her orgasm dies down. Realizing her hold on you has gone nonexistent, you muster up the strength to lift yourself off the bed. Ignore the puddle that has formed on the sheets. With a worn out Kazuha in your arms, you bring her with you to the other room, slamming it shut and locking the door once you’re inside.

“We’re almost leaving, you two! Hurry up!” says your dad as he takes the remaining luggage in front of your bedroom before going down the steps again. He remains seemingly naive to your sinful act performed behind closed doors, suppressed behind another layer of defense: your bathroom. You’re supposed to be cleaning up, but here you are, dirtying up your house even more.

“Yeah! We’re coming!” you yell out from inside the shower, briefly looking behind as you pump your hard cock frantically inside Kazuha’s tight walls. It’s a familiar but different position compared to the bed. Her slender legs are wrapped around your waist, and your cock is still buried deeply inside her, but you’re carrying her in your arms this time around, and you’re dictating the pace as you fuck your girlfriend into further submission, insistent to get one off in her before leaving. 

Five minutes before the start of a new hour, your soaked watch tells. Forget it. You need yours too. 

Fortunately, he doesn’t hear your girlfriend and the lewd, arousing way she says your name as you pound her at her most sensitive spots, even as it bounces off the bathroom walls. Sure, there’s also that shower raining down both your naked, sweaty bodies as additional blockage, but even the sound of her flesh slapping against yours is loud enough to cause suspicion from a wary member. Nevertheless, it doesn’t deter you from using Kazuha to your liking, without care for her comfort or her pleasure, only focused on indulging in her rapturous, silky heat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries in your ear, resorting to the most common word available to express her sexual arousal and elation. Her hands dig into your nape and your soaked hair, practically clinging to you as her life support. The way you both fucked each other was completely different, but this hits harder for her, and it accelerates her second climax ahead of yours. “Fuck—gonna—ah!”

Kazuha utters another sharp, deafening cry as you bring her back up to that high again. By some miracle, you don’t let the wetness make you slip; it only spurs you on. Pin her against the wall, still fucking her hard through her orgasm, resolute on setting yours off. Your soft mouth grows some fangs, marks her sensitive collarbone with a fresh, sore red coat. This is your way of getting back at her in the most subtle way—and possibly the least, with how strident she sounds.

She manages to gain the strength to forcefully turn your gaze to hers, trying to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, but you’re still thrusting in her, unwilling to turn down the roughness. The butterflies in your stomach grow with every agonizing second. You’re so fucking close, so ready to finally let go—

After the constant shaking of her tight figure, she recaptures you for another intimate kiss, and it’s what ultimately sets you off. Your tongue slips into her mouth as you give in, groaning in her as you release thick ropes of cum in succession. Penetrating her depths, you fill her with every drop of your seed, draining yourself empty inside her thirsty, greedy cunt.

“So warm. So full,” she mumbles, giving your lips a soft peck in appreciation as you come down from that euphoric, heavenly high. 

You slump against the wall, going through post-orgasm exhaustion, with Kazuha still in your clutch. The noises that previously filled the bathroom are overtaken by the continuous, rushing flow of shower water, with your deep, heavy breaths in second place. Breaking the kiss, you rest your head against her reddened collarbone, having forgotten the urgency of time—and ignoring the incessant knocking on your bedroom door and shouting of your parents echoing beyond two layers of walls. 

“Do you think they know?” she asks, clingy and shuddering but satiated.

Looking over your shoulder as the barrage of demanding, door breaking knocks continues, you chuckle. “I don’t think so.”

(A/N: Another fluffy-ish one, and Kazuha looks like one of the softest girls ever, so she deserves the fluff treatment. This was supposed to be another lengthy one-shot with way more story, but I was really fixated on one specific scene, which is what resulted in this fic. Next one's gonna be very story based, for sure ;) Thank you for reading!)

[moonrazeeclipse]

You know that I can’t

Show you me

Give you me

I can’t show you a ruined part of myself

Once again I put a mask on and go to see you

But I still want you

[moonrazeeclipse]

Happy one year! Even though I’m not around as much as I used to be, I wish you the best 🧡😊

Update - one year anniversary (+ some reflection and future?)

Hello, everyone. π here.

It has been a full year since I've opened this blog and released my first fic. I can't believe it's already been a year; how time flies! Plenty of highs and lows in between, but at least I haven't quit—at least for now.

Like a bunch of sports analysts, let's go through some completely pedantic and arbitrary stats and milestones.

First work: Sandwich - Red Velvet Wendy (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m.)

Highest note count: Shot in the night - Blackpink Rosé (published 01/03/22, 471 notes)

Number of works published: 65 fics (1 fic every 5.6 days)

Average note count: 239.8 notes (15,587 accumulated notes)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days or 1 month, 5 days)

1,000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days or 4 months, 30 days)

1,500 followers: March 2, 2022 (294 days or 9 months, 22 days)

Follower count: 1,725 followers (4.7 followers a day)

None of this would be possible without you, the reader. Thank you so much for the continued support, whether it's a reblog, like, or the occasional comment. Here's to another year 🧡

From this point on, I'll dive into a bit of a tangent about things I don't really discuss outside of important context, so this is your last warning if you don't want to pay attention to it. Also, I kinda need a reason to vent some frustration out, so enjoy.

Quality/Quantity

If you've noticed, I've published 65 works over the past year. That's one new fic every 5.6 days. Sure, it was the pandemic and all so I had plenty of free time and there were a bunch of quickies in between, but it's certainly no excuse for some of them to be absolute fucking duds. I find reading most of my earlier works extremely difficult, if not completely impossible, to reread. Whether it's grammar issues, typos, or simply a rushed concept, I look at most of my work from the beginning with utter contempt. Much like how David Fincher and David Lynch hate Alien 3 and Dune, respectively. Part of me wants to remove them just because I don't want to give you the misery of watching a newbie π figure things out like a child, but I'm sure someone already has my work archived and saved. Or not. For historical purposes, I have no intention to delete them off my site, so you can see the growth with each passing work. There's still plenty to learn and much to hone, but I'm certainly nowhere close to the ideal version of myself as a writer.

Confidence/Competitive issues

At the end of March 2022, I announced that I'd be taking a short break for mental health reasons. Truth is, it was more of a personal problem in regards as to how I perceive my work and compare it with others. This has always been an issue rooted even in my childhood days: I was ultra competitive as fuck. If I wasn't the best or one of the best, then why the fuck would I bother? Of course, I've mellowed down since, but you always want to stand out and have something distinct about you when you're under the microscope of others, and writing was no exception. The more I wrote and the more I read, I grew more desperate to evolve and adapt. I became obsessed. I was disappointed when something wasn't hitting my personal expectation or threshold, or when someone wrote an idol that was subjectively better than mine. I'll briefly clarify that I bear no personal grudges toward anyone, you're just doing you and I'm doing mine. Anyway, as the months rolled by, while I knew I was improving with gentle hops and skips, I saw that everyone else were making leaps and bounds with their abilities. I wasn't gonna catch up and I felt defeated. This ultimately lead to me becoming unnecessarily frustrated and depressed. Something I had fun with at the start turned into a poisonous relationship and soured my mind. I tried to play it off as a mood swing, but it was growing to the point where I no longer could simply hide it. So into hiatus it was, and I stepped away briefly in the hopes that I can rediscover myself all over again.

Cynicism

If you've been interacting with me on Discord, you'll notice the gradual change in how I look at myself and other things. The most obvious thing to point out is how often I joke about how shitty or terrible I am, to the point that I've been called out a few times about it. How am I supposed to be idealistic? You have to realize not everyone will share the same attitude regarding life as you. Of course, I'm not one to cause conflicts, so I've deflected my thoughts into a private echo chamber that only the few people I can trust can hear, but nevertheless, please understand that everyone has different ways to express frustration. The last year has been incredibly fucking tough for everyone and I was no exception. Loss of a loved one, stuck at home for months on end, crippling loneliness, and so much more. I turned to writing as a way to escape and vent, perhaps spark my childhood imagination to life again, and for the first time in a while, I felt validated and accepted. So I continued, hoping that perhaps I can reach the peak of greatness that those before me stand, but I still have a long way to go. But instead of figuring things out, I beat myself and became a defeatist, unintentionally affecting the people around me in a negative way.

Future

I'm pretty much on borrowed time. I've started college. Next semester, I'm going back to class, touching grass and actually making friends outside of a virtual space. I'm still awkward as fuck. Additionally, my interests tend to burn out like a dying star. Writing is no exception. I might grow sick and tired of this hobby and just ditch it, much like movies and modern Western pop music. But I'm not gonna let myself go out in a whimper. As much as I have a long term plan, plans tend to go awry in a moment. With that said, I hope that with whatever time I have left before it's consumed by studies as a top priority is spent well. Delete this will be completed. I have already constructed the full arc including the ending for the series, so please look forward to it. It's a series very dear to me; not only did it launch my blog high up to the stars, but also it's a piece of legacy that I can leave behind should I be called away prematurely. Other stuff I have in mind are more non-smut fics. I've always enjoyed storytelling through my love of film, so perhaps I can expend my repertoire to more diverse story content. And of course, become a better writer. My therapist gave me one really interesting piece of advice, "You're only as good as your latest work." I apologize if my body of work or style is not up to par with some of the others, but I am trying my best.

Ending

I don't really have anything cool to say to finish up this tangent, but I just want to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone—especially the cool people I've met through Discord. You've been a huge godsend during these difficult times, and though I'm not vocal about it, please understand that I appreciate you. For providing encouragement, giving your ears whenever I vent, or answering my stupid or silly questions, I sincerely thank you. If I could repay you in kind, I would. Regardless of how you feel or think about me, let's continue to live together peacefully.

And of course, this is nothing without you, the reader, for checking out even a single word I've composed. Much love.

Grace be with you all,

Peter / π

[moonrazeeclipse]

Loathing Love: Lusty Loop (Pt. 3)

Male Reader x Kang Hyewon x Jo Yuri

Length: 3568 words

Tags: threesome, cunnilingus, lesbian sex, doggy style, tit’s play, passionate sex, shygay!Hyewon, singer!Yuri

TW: mention of hate sex

Inspiration: “Jazz Bar” by Dreamcatcher + @friskyriskywhisky​

Credit: GOAT @worldsover for editing. Thank you!

(A/N: IT’S BACK! The third chapter of L4 is out, finally. I am so sorry for delaying this for so long and I hope you are satisfied with the result. Enjoy one of my favorite IZ*ONE ships.)

“I‘m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Even as you stroll through the park, the words that Eunbi whined in her sleep still linger in your mind. Like a parasite, they have found their way into whatever part of your brain is responsible for emotional pain—and now it’s starting to make you insane.

It’s Eunbi’s fault. She has to pay for cheating on you, and the best way she can is with her body. This is what you truly believed when you ravished her last night, but now, you feel a lot less comfortable thinking about that guy who ravished her the night before. Was it all a lie you told yourself that things would be fine if she confessed and submitted?  That a week of hate-filled sex could salvage things?

Weiterlesen

[moonrazeeclipse]

Can we have a smut based on hitomi working out and you cum on her legendary abs

Legendary Abs

Honda Hitomi

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags: Rough Sex, Ass slapping. Pussy Eating, Cum on Abs.

Well I enjoyed writing this. TBH I never thought I'll actually want to do something like this.

You check your watch—5:20 p.m. You are running down the street. You check again. It is 5:21 p.m, and you are still running down the road. Like if checking your watch multiple times is going to slow downtime.

You aren’t supposed to be late. You have never been late, usually at least. It is supposed to be your time with your client today, and she might be angry that you will make her late for her appointment.

Pilates is something you have been passionate about, and now you are supposed to be teaching one of your top clients in Tokyo, Honda Hitomi. She has a hectic schedule with being a celebrity with AKB48 and other TV shows. Her time is valuable, and you are going to waste her time.

You check your watch one more time—5:30 p.m. Finally, the door of your studio is in your grasp. Your hand grabs the handle and swings it open as your body flies to the other side. Due to the moment, you still have gone rushing to the door. 

You greet the guard at the door as your rush upstairs—each step growing louder by the second. When you reach the top floor, swing the door to your studio open and get greeted by the desk agent. But then you see Hitomi just sitting patiently on the bench waiting for you but still wearing her.

“Sorry, Hitomi, Sorry for being late.”

“That’s no problem. Plus, stop calling me Hitomi. I have been asking you to call me Tomi.”

You call her up, and you walk casually to the studio.

“So why are you late?”

“Ummm, let’s just say I got into an argument with a neighbor involving someone getting their door broken.”

Hitomi, stop and turns your head around and see a small bruise on the other side of the cheek.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You should ask him. As far as I remember, his roommates tried to carry him back inside.”

“Well, if you can beat people up, I think I got the right trainer.”

“I’m not going to teach you how to beat people up.”

“Hmph.” Hitomi gets annoyed.

“Here we are. you can change in the locker room over there.”

“Hai.”

You go to the other side of the male side of the locker to get ready. You brought your bags with you—one with the equipment for the session and the other personal bag for your clothes. You swiftly change your clothes to your proper attire and place the bag inside the locker.

You suddenly hear Hitomi’s voice shout to you. “Sensei! Can you come here?”

Wait what?! Is Hitomi naked?

“Don’t worry. I have clothes on!”

You walk to the other side and see Hitomi in her leggings and only her sports bra on top. You have seen her abs before, but there is no shirt this time. It is very different to see Hitomi with her abs and without a shirt.

Your eyes just stare at her midriff. The sight of her abs mesmerizes you. Nowhere else have you seen the eleven so defined.

“Sensai?”

Hitomi’s fingers snap you out of your trance, and you get to refocus on why you are there.

“Can you help me find the box of hair ties? I can’t seem to find it.”

“Umm, sure…”

You go to her duffle bag and search for it while Hitomi double checks with her handbag to even find a single one.

While you still dig your way thru all the clothes that Hitomi packed, even if they include some panties and bras. Your cheeks turn red hot, but you ignore it as Hitomi might have been embarrassed by it.

“Sensai?”

“Hmm?”

“Were you staring at my abs?”

“What! No!”

“Come one, isn’t it obvious?”

Now you get flustered. Your cock is already growing rock hard, and now Hitomi is making it worse with her question about you being caught staring at her abs.

“Do you want me to help you find your hair ties or not?” You stop, stand up properly and look at her.

“Okay Fine. Fine, I was thinking things. I mean, your job is working if my abs are so irresistible.”

You sigh. “Fine. I did just take a peek, but I didn’t stare.”

“Sure.” Hitomi chuckles.

You just roll over your eyes, and you finally find something. It isn’t the box, but at least it is one scrunchie.

“Tomi, here.”

“Yes, Finally, we can get started.”

Hitomi exits while tying her hair while you follow and get your equipment bag. You get to the main exercise area, leading Hitomi in stretching and touching her body as the session goes on. The soft white skin is even smoother than before. You don’t know how it is, but it is more delicate than before.

“Tomi? Did you use a new soap?”

“Yup! You can tell?”

You sniff her skin, and there you can smell the papaya fragrance. The papaya extract moistens her skin, making it silky to touch.

Time goes on, and it becomes harder to concentrate on Hitomi or the clothed version. Right now, you want to rip those training clothes open and fuck her right then and there. But you have to keep in you. She is your client, and she is here to exercise, and that’s all.

Her tiny pussy isn’t meant for your large cock to destroy. Her tiny breasts aren’t meant to be eaten and devoured. Those thoughts have to be cast aside as you calm yourself down.

“Sensai?”

“Yes, Tomi?”

“Are you hard?”

You snap out of your lustful dream and come back to reality. You open your eyes and see your crotch all the way up to Hitomi’s ass.

“Uhhhh…” You get off Hitomi and take a step back for a second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…fine.”

Your first instinct is to bow as deep as possible and apologize immediately. “I’m sorry, Hitomi, for making you feel uncomfortable.” You say as fast as you can.

Despite her petite figure, Hitomi goes up to you, pulls your chin upwards, and looks directly into your eyes.

“I could tell you have been dreaming of me all day, but….”

“But?”

“But… I didn’t know you, and I are seeing eyes to eyes on things.”

“What do you mean? I don’t want to have sex with….”

“I never said sex. I know you want it, and I want it too.”

“Tomi, what are you planning to do?”

“Let’s say sex can also be an exercise too.”

Hitomi pushes you back at the wall and glazes at your eyes. She reaches for a kiss, but you try to refuse, but instead of giving up, she grabs your chin, makes it face her, and kisses it passionately. Your mind tells you to stop, but your body doesn’t want to.

Instead, it kissed Hitomi back, and back it went. The kiss went from smooth to rough. She bits you like as soon as your play with your tongue inside her.

You push her down to the floor with the lock unlocking your lips. You clasp your hands together and pull her arms upward. Her tiny crop top exposed the pack of abs you had seen just a while ago, and it is still so good.

You let go of her hands and kiss her from her lips to her chin to between her breasts and finally goes down on her abs.

“Tomi, I always have wanted to do this. I hope you don’t mind.”

You grab the top of her shirt and rip it open, tearing it apart like a wolf with its meat. Hitomi can only look at you and laugh. She can only imagine how long you have been desperate to have her.

“Fuck, serious What took me so long to get you, Tomi?”

“Well, I should be asking you.”

That is the question. All of the animalistic instincts now all lead up to this. The time of your life. Sex with an A-list celebrity, an A-list celebrity that has a body of a goddess. There is only a couple of these before you can finally see her body. Soon enough, they get disposed of quickly—first her sports bra. Just simply toss it away—lastly, her leggings. You slowly pull it down and remove it with her purple panties.

It is sweaty from the short workout session you have. But regardless, you want to drive and eat her pussy, and that’s what you do. First, give a good look and decide how you’ll take it. Then the plan formulates. Use your tongue and give a good lick to it, then gently use your finger to drag it between her slit. The small yet pleasurable session makes Hitomi whimper a bit. But you move in deeper.

You spread that pink flesh open and use your finger to play with it. You leave it open and allow your tongue to join it. You move your tongue up and down as you get a good taste of her. The saltiness and the girl cum that was leaking from when she was asking for you.

“Fuck, how do you know what to do?”

“Let’s say experience.”

Hitomi leans her head back as she takes in more of the pleasure. You probe in deeper and eat it out to your heart’s content. It tastes as sweet as well. Your sweet tooth pushes you more.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m going to cum!”

You ignore her warning but instead, your shove your finger inside and repetitively fingerfuck her pussy as fast as your can. Your middle finger is pushing as deep as it can.

Soon, enough like what she said. Hitomi did cum. She came all over your hand, face, and her crotch. The dripping liquid coats the entire area. Hitomi tries to slow down her heavy breaths. All of the surges of orgasm accelerated her heartbeat.

“You turn?”

Fuck yes. With Hitomi? You wouldn’t

 “Wanna do it slow—”

Without finishing her sentence, you pick her up and slam her back against the wall.

“Or you can do this instead?”

You grab her legs and wrap them around your waist; then you start fucking. You fuck her hard and deep. You are pushing in like you never pushed in before. You get in so deep you can feel her inside. Her walls constrict your cock as your pull in and out. But thanks to her natural lubricant, it doesn’t hinder your quest to push in.

You pick her up once more, but you use her tiny body and still fuck her like a fleshlight when walking. It feels incredible when you walk while you have this cocksleeve with you. You push her down against one of your exercise benches and spread her arms open and lick her face like she is ice cream. Her sweat may be salty, but you drink it like water. The pheromones that Hitomi emits turn into an aphrodisiac for you.

All of your basic urges just make you fuck her more. All you want to do is fuck her deeper and breed her. You toss her and make her lie on her belly. You look at her and lick your lips.

“Please, no anal.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t want anal, right. Now I want you.”

“Wait, what?!”

Without Hitomi to say anything, you start to prone bone her. She moans loudly as your groan in delight. But you worry if your assistant can hear you. So you push Hitomi’s head down to the bench. The force is so strong that her face is flat on it.

“Fuck yes. I like that hit me harder.”

You slap her ass.

“Harder.”

You slap it once more. There is a faint red mark on her ass.

“HARDER!”

You give in and slap her once more. But so hard it is bright red, and when you touch it again, it is slightly warm.

“Fuck yes, do it again if you—”

You slap her cheek again, but this time to the other side. The same red mark appears. You repetitive this several times even if there is already some blood bleeding. But you stop when you hear her moan again.

You flip her once more. Her eyes are on you. Her gaze is staring at the hungry cock penetrating as deep as possible. You cover her mouth.

“You fucking slut. Do you want to get caught or something?”

“Call me a slut one more time and scream one more time.”

You continue to push in deeper.

“Do you think I’m going to stop it, you slut. You have been hungry for my cock like I have been hungry for your pussy, and now you have to be quiet.”

She nods, but this cannot stop her from moaning. But as your last-ditch effort, you cover her mouth with your hand, sinking your fingers as deep as possible.

“Fuck Hitomi, I’m going to cum.”

You push in faster and faster like you haven’t before. You wonder where all of this energy is coming from. Maybe it is your urge to finish inside her. But Hitomi bites your hand. But you don’t remove your hand; instead, you silence her even more.

“Hitomi. It is coming.”

Hitomi bites your hand once more. This time so painful you cannot handle it anymore and remove your hand from it.

“Not inside!”

You pull and shoot your cum all over her abs. . Waves of cum coat her. The sticky white liquid enters and exits your cock like a fountain.

You breathe down and slow down yourself as your pull out. The cum slowly seeps around her.

“Fuck, that was amazing!” you exclaim.

Hitomi grabs a swipe of your cum on her abs and gives a good lick. “Yummy! Next time. I’ll tell you where to cum. I want you to cum in me. Cum in me so deep. The abs were a great idea tho. I like it.”

“Yes. Ma’am.”

Hitomi looks back at you as she walks to the shower. “My next appointment is this Saturday anyway. See you then?.”

[moonrazeeclipse]

Get a room (Oh My Girl Arin)

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You’re not even halfway past the door of your designated hotel room when Yewon suddenly exclaims in shock and disbelief. Though you are carrying both your luggage and hers, you hastily put the bags down to rush toward her. The bags prevent the electronic door from closing automatically and slamming it shut.

“What’s up?” you say when you reach her, immediately discerning the disgusted expression on her lips. 

She pays no attention to your question; instead her eyes focus on what’s in front of her. Taking the hint, you look on as well. The main takeaway is that you don’t really see anything wrong with the room you’ve booked—at least for the discounted price you found it. It appears perfectly adequate and suitably equipped, with a perfectly clean floor, a small coffee table with two couches, transparent sliding doors that connect the suite to a boxy terrace with a lovely view of the seaside cliffs overlooking a close but still relatively distant island, and a 45-inch television fastened to the wall.

For the most part, it looks perfectly normal, until Yewon points out the immediate problem.

“We made sure to ask for a twin room, right?”

Turn to Yewon again. You clearly hear the concern and repugnance in her tone. She can’t look away from the most obvious elephant in the room—a single bed that normally rests only one person. There’s two of you. It’s not rocket science to figure out, but your mind still denies the evidence ahead of you.

“Ummm,” you can’t process the situation properly and answer her even plainly, causing you to trail off until you somehow get it together. “I think we did?”

“No—yeah, we definitely did.” She directs her finger to point out the obvious. “We definitely asked for a room with twin beds. That isn’t a twin bed, that’s a—”

Return your glare back to the single queen bed, then your eyes shift back-and-forth between the mattress and Yewon a few times, asking for confirmation. She catches a glimpse of your stupefied reaction, and her response is blunt but says everything, with a nod of her head and a quiet, “Yup.”

Letting the scene completely sink in, your first thought running through your head is: This is going to be the most awkward night of your life.

Indeed, you booked a twin room for you and Choi Yewon as part of your two day road trip up in the mountains, your getaway vacation back when you were childhood friends. Even though somewhere in your teens you went your separate ways, with her becoming a successful idol as part of Oh My Girl and you focusing on a career in journalism, you still connected with each other though you never really saw her in person until way after her group became incredibly popular. With more solo activities on her plate, she decided to call you up and relive fond memories before she’d return to her busy life as a star.

“I swear to God, this is just—” Yewon stops herself from complaining some more. Even though you had not seen her in years, everything you remember about her is still present. The cuteness, the dorky attitude, and the playful innocence in her tone whenever she groaned about something remain part of her, now in a more gorgeous package. She’s become so eye-catching that you can’t really look away from her no matter how much you continue to remind yourself you’re merely friends.

“No, no, this is fine. It’s fine.” She shakes her head, pretty much accepting defeat in this situation. “We can deal, we’re both adults.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want—”

“Definitely not.” She turns to face you, her tone quickly changing in a defensive manner. “Well I’m not taking the floor because I drove the whole day, and you’re sure as hell not sleeping on the floor either, because you’re driving tomorrow. So, let’s just adult it up and share. It’s a big bed with plenty of space.”

Convincing as she might sound, it won’t suddenly change the size of the bed, which would awkwardly fit both of you, nor will it split into two like magic.

“I mean I guess we can’t completely adult it up,” she follows. “We can put a pillow barrier or something if that makes you feel better?” 

“Pillow barrier?”

“You know? The kind we had when we used to have sleepovers at your place?” she lightly giggles as she remembers your fond childhood memories together. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you’re being silly.” Remembering what she said a moment ago, you deflect her own words back to her. “We’re both adults now. Besides, I’ve slept in worse.”

She pauses, thinking things through. You don’t know what’s going on in her mind, but you can at least find some comfort knowing she’s most likely just as stunned as you are.

“You know what, you’re right.” Yewon shakes her head again, internally beating herself for not being mature about it. “I’m being silly. Let’s just pick one side, and stick to that.” 

She walks over to the right side of the bed, designating it as her spot in the little mattress, leaving you without any opportunity to choose. Her graceful hands flow along the silky, clean sheets. “I’ll take this one, is that okay?”

You simply nod while you raise your eyebrows and nod in agreement. Even if you didn’t like your lack of freedom, you didn’t have the will to deny her what she would have liked, especially with those kind features of hers.

“Great.” She looks outside, then to her wristwatch, then back to you. “We should probably shower and get ready for bed. It’s getting late, and we still have quite a way to go. You can go on ahead first.”

Wasting no time, you turn away from her to pick up the luggage you left at the front door. You barely catch her mumble another complaint, “Oh boy.”

—————

The bathroom door opens. Out comes Yewon, with freshly wet hair and changed out of her clothes, only sporting the customary black hotel bathrobe. She wraps her locks around a braid as she walks back to the living room.

“The water pressure here is ass!” she chuckles as she finishes tying her hair. “I literally—and you’re asleep.”

She gasps in shock. You’re in bed, arms and legs spread wide, snoring like a whale, and obviously oblivious to what she was ranting about. Thankfully you’re mindful enough not to fully occupy her designated side of the mattress.

“Shit.”

Yewon walks over to the opposite side of the bed, footsteps as quiet as a mouse in an effort not to wake you up. 

“I’m dry enough,” she whispers to herself. “Maybe if I just slide quietly right in, on the right side—”

Without stirring up the bed to cause even a slight rumble, Yewon gently lowers her ass on the partially ruined sheets. All the while, her stare lingers to your face, trying to look on if you’re actually asleep and if her entry might possibly disturb your peace. When you don’t react, she sweeps her toned legs around in an upward motion off the ground, then she carefully slides upward to reach the pillow. Eventually, her head rests on the cushion without drawing even the slightest commotion.

Successful, she sighs in relief. Her eyes look up to the ceiling and the four unopened lights that form a square. The only things she can hear are her own deep, heavy breaths. Your snoring has gone radio silent. Drowsiness begins to flow down her exhausted body, preparing her for dream land. 

But just as she’s relaxed enough to settle in, a sudden weight that bears itself on her breaks the silence.

“Are you really asleep, you absolute dick?” she sneers venomously. Her glare points toward you. Unknowingly, your right arm is wrapped around her belly, while your right leg is coiled over her own right leg. To make things worse, your lips are close to her bare shoulders, grazing her soft, dainty skin. Despite the sudden screech from her mouth, it doesn’t elicit a reaction from you. 

“God, I should have showered first,” she hisses to herself. The pillow barrier was a good idea, why didn’t she press on with that? “How am I supposed to fall asleep when you’re right fucking there?”

Though she clearly hates you draped around her, she tries her best to ignore your presence. Intentional or not, you won’t let her have any sort of peace. 

Much to her dismay, half of your frame is all over her like your warm, favorite blanket. Any sort of space between you is gone when your lips leave saliva trails over her right shoulder. 

Yewon looks behind her, angered and evidently upset. Any little form of subtlety and quietness left is unceremoniously thrown out the window. “No, no, no, you’re kidding me! You asshole! This is so not fair! You cannot sleep spoon me! How are you supposed to be asleep? This is literally the worst version of my—”

She stops herself again from gushing, suddenly remembering you have a chance to hear her deeper, more intimate feelings. Yet you don’t respond in any shape or form. There’s an essence of innocence and gentle warmth as you embrace her without your knowing. Yewon can’t bring herself to push you away, annoyed as she is. 

Eventually, she does find some comfort and adapts herself to the cuddle. She sighs again wistfully. “I guess this is nice, though. Figures you’d be a good cuddler.”

Yewon sinks into her pillow once more, determined to put aside her discomfort just to be able to fall asleep. Minutes, perhaps hours, pass. Her eyes remain wide open as she can’t bring herself to completely relax. Something’s definitely preventing her from snoozing.

“Okay this is comfy and all, but if you’re gonna poke my back with your knee I—” A brief look behind her and she finds a noticeable protrusion between her legs, sending her into a wild panic. Instinctively, she pushes you off her, perhaps further than she expected. “That’s not your knee—oh shit!”

Distress builds on more stress. She watches as you roll off the bed and onto the floor, causing you to yelp loudly and snap wide awake. Yewon crawls to your side of the mattress as you sit up on the ground. Her hands cover her mouth as she checks in on you, whether you got hurt or not. 

“Fuck, I am so sorry— Dude, are you okay? I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to kick you off the bed, you were just really fucking close,” she says, the words leaving her in rapid succession, like she was blurting. “Here, let me just—Oh my God!”

Before she reaches her hand out to pick you up, she catches a glimpse of your raging erection. Your pajamas are halfway off. She turns away with cheeks completely on fire, hands on her eyes, and her mind with a new memory she wants to unsee. Her mouth is completely unrestrained.

“Why the fuck are your pajama bottoms so loose, dude?”

As you get up and push up your underpants, you retort, “You got really excited when you saw them.”

“No I am not flustered, shut up! This is the worst fucking night!” she replies with her back turned against you, but even in the dark, you can see her red cheeks from embarrassment. “Can I uncover my eyes yet?”

“Yes you can, you horndog.”

“Okay, thank you.” She promptly draws her hands back then faces you again. Not even the snarky word you called her draws away from her awkwardness. As you stand in front of her, not willing to rejoin her in bed, she draws her breath, then exhales, regaining her composure. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I really did think I was going to be fine with this.”

You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow, questioning her comment. “Are you sure? I think you’re weirded out by this.”

“No, no. I’m not weirded out or anything,” she replies. Her eyes look away from you, unable to face you directly. “It’s not like I feel unsafe or anything.”

“Are you nervous?” You gently approach the bed.

Yewon pauses for a second, trying to formulate a reply that hopefully won’t offend you. 

“Y-yeah, I’m nervous, b-but not like that, you know? Not because I’m uncomfortable with being near you, or not, not uncomfortable in a bad way—”

She stammers through her faulty reasoning, ultimately giggling as she struggles to finish her justification. 

“I-I can’t do words right now! I mean, you literally just spooned me with an erection, you cannot expect me not to talk about it?”

Look down and find that your boner seems to have calmed down. Hopefully, she is too.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I never meant to—”

“No, don't be sorry,” she interrupts. “It’s not your fault, umm, I mean, it’s kind of my fault for kicking you off the bed?” Can we just go back to sleep? I promise not to kick you again.”

Wanting to move on, you simply accept her offer and slide back to your side of the bed while Yewon wiggles back to the opposite end. This time you leave a wide space between you two. Both of you lie back down while staring at the ceiling, allowing silence to fill the room for a few minutes.

“So, the shower here kinda sucks, right?” Yewon breaks the still quietness, recalling the awful water flow. You might as well just have used a dipper or swam in the pool as an alternative. You simply nod as you place your arms behind your head.

“Yeah. Bad water pressure,” she continues with a chuckle. “And maybe it’s just me, but the room heater is kinda terrible too.”

She’s right. Even though you’re confined to a shut room, the coldness of the outside still peeks through the windows. You’ve mostly overlooked the chills and shudders until she pointed it out, to which you nod in agreement again.

Yewon turns to you while you shiver from the cold. “Do you wanna huddle a little closer? Instead of us both hanging off opposite ends of the bed?”

Facing her again, you ask, “You won’t kick me off, right?”

She shakes her head with a cheeky grin. “No more kicking off the bed. I promise.”

Her welcoming smile is enough to draw you back to her again. She also reciprocates your approach, steadily inching close to you until you both meet halfway in the center of the bed. Then your arms wrap around each other as you feel the heat of the other’s body pass through yours. Inches apart, cold breaths on each other’s chin, the awkwardness has faded to make room for soft, intense tension.

Your hands explore her hips, and hers roams yours. One move and this could end in a complete mess. While you feel every delicate sensation of her toned body, gasping and sighing with restrained lust, Yewon closes her eyes as her hands claw through the fabric of your shirt, struggling to keep herself together.

“Oh this is nice,” she says, her tone wavering between formality and passion. “I did say you were spooning me in your sleep earlier.”

Your cheeks are flushed with a bit of embarrassment, even though she doesn’t fully blame you. Of all times your hormones decided to lose control, it just had to be with her.

“I didn’t mind it. It felt nice,” she continues, gently reassuring you from your guilt. “You felt nice. Better than I imagined you would, you know?”

“You imagined this?” you ask, raising concern over her thoughts regarding you.

“Yeah I imagined this before. Cuddling you like this, not because of warmth or anything, but because we wanted to. I mean, not like this, but you know—”

Yewon’s heart is slowly gushing about her true feelings. There’s very little left in her that can resist from admitting the truth. She knows if she can’t admit it now, there won’t be another opportunity for her to do so. Her hands pull back from pinching at your shirt, still preventing herself from opening up to you completely.

But there’s nowhere left to go.

“Of course, I wanted to,” she continues. While you brush streaks of her hair away to clearly see her beautiful face, she averts eye contact with you. “I’ve been into you, okay? I’ve been into you for years. I’ve literally had a crush on you since we were kids. I—”

Yewon realizes what she’s just said and stops herself short. She retreats her hands back and spins away from you with immediate regret. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. I should just go and ask for another room and I—”

Before she turns away from you entirely, you cup her face and meet her in a fiery, passionate kiss on the lips. Any sort of barrier between you is completely shattered. Without any inhibition, Yewon sinks into the smooch with every bit of her passion, love, and desire that had been contained for so long. And now, she has an outlet to pour her every bit of affection onto you.

“You fucking idiot,” you murmur in her mouth. Drawing her back to keep her close, you peck at her lower lip as she freezes in place.

“Wh-wh-what do you mean I’m an idiot—”

This time you’re the one to interrupt her. You dive back into making out with her, your childhood friend and longtime crush. Both of you realize how much you have deep, intimate feelings for the other and never really had the chance to share how you needed each other. Perhaps this single bed was the best thing to ever happen for you two. 

Yewon suddenly breaks away with a cheerful laugh, the brightest she’s ever been. “Maybe we’re both kind of idiots.”

Then you pull her back in again. You have no intention of letting Yewon escape from your grasp, especially not after your mutual feelings of affection for each other. 

“You genuinely have a crush on me?” you ask, mumbling between her lips. Part of you still refuses to completely believe her, even when her tone meant complete sincerity.

“I meant it,” she replies softly, reaffirming herself. “I’ve always really, really liked you.”

She crawls on your chest, slowly climbing up your body until she’s on top of you. Now it’s her weight pressing against you, a retaliation for what you did to her earlier. Her eyes gleam in the dark, full of burning desire. “I’ve imagined it—what it would be like to cuddle with you.”

The sudden change in her eyes, the wide smirk on her lips, and the heat emanating from her hands—you feel a lot hotter. Then she leans her face directly close to yours. Those luscious lips demand your attention, but you stop in place. Your heart races with anticipation and tenseness, allowing Yewon to have her way with you, the way she always wanted it to be.

“And also what it would be like to kiss you,” she continues, following it up with a gentle peck on your lips. Then another. And a third one. She’s so hot when she slowly teases you, with that alluring stare and irresistible sweet lips all over your mouth. You feel tingles all over your nerves as her hands run down all over your body, shuddering from just her sensitive touch. “And put my hands all over you.”

Any fleeting thoughts supposed to run through your head instead flow down your groin. Your shaft hardens as your childhood friend continues to toy with your patience and restraint with each delicate kiss and flick of her fingers against the soft fabric of your shirt. 

Allowing the pleasure to consume you, you close your eyes and release an airy groan. Another step closer to breaking.

“If I put my hands under your shirt, is that okay?” she asks. They’re already halfway underneath the cloth. There was no other answer she’d accept other than a clear yes.

“Go,” you reply, still winded from the sensation of her tender fingers on your body.

Yewon immediately slides her hands deep into your chest while she kisses you to distract you from the sharpness of her nails. You jerk and groan a quiet sigh as her sensitive touch steals your breath away. 

“Can we keep going? I want you to touch me too.” 

The idea of having a piece of her snaps you back. Her chest is the first point that your eyes go straight through. Somehow, you feel like you’re in a dreamlike state, as if all of this is just a part of your fantasy, something long gone when the morning comes.

“Your tits,” you blurt, the heart expressing their first desire. “Let me touch them.”

“Of course. You can touch me there,” she replies almost instantaneously, her own eyes shut from pleasure as well. “Just place your hands over—ugh!”

You didn’t need any further instructions. Your hands slip between her thin bathrobe and grasp handfuls of her shapely breasts. They aren noticeably huge, but they feel so hot and warm in your palms. A couple of fingers twist and flick her taut nipples, eliciting a whine from Yewon. The smooth sensation of her flesh also causes you to moan pleasurably too. 

“Do you like how they feel?” she asks, to which you nod enthusiastically. “They fit so nicely in your hands, like they were made for you.”

Her words bring a smile to your face. She’s matured so well in all the right places, and yet they feel incredibly welcoming and warm as you fondle and massage her mounds. In response, she presses her hands tightly against your cheeks, as if to suffocate you. Even as you play with each other’s bodies, you’re still occasionally drawn to the other’s lips. 

“Fuck, you’re smothering me, Arin,” you say as you lightly choke from her clutch, ignoring that you addressed her by stage name rather than her personal name.

She giggles heartily while shaking her head. “No, I won’t let go of your face. I’m just gonna keep cradling your head in my hands,” her lips smother yours for a moment, “And running my fingers through your hair,” her right hand brushes up a streak, “And I’m gonna pull you close and suffocate you with tits if I have to, but I’m not letting go.”

As if she knows what you’re thinking of, she continues with, “I want you to feel that this is real, and this is really happening. Come here.”

When she kisses you for the umpteenth time, even if her lips feel like a familiar presence, it’s only now do you truly accept and come to understand that this is real. Yewon is truly in love with you, your hands are really on her tits, and this is as intimate as you can possibly get with your childhood friend.

Yewon notices the sudden lack of heat on her chest. “Wait, why are you taking your hands off my—fuck!”

A stream of hums escape her breath involuntarily. She whispers and whines against your lips. The lace separating her bathrobe is loosened, and so is your lust. Your digits find their way between her slit and her sensitive hole. Immediately, wetness protrudes your fingers as they dig into her pussy.

“Oh, that feels good, too. Oh fuck, mmm.”

Her airy and sensual moans arouse you even more while her juices coat your fingers as they explore and pleasure her cunt blindly. 

“You’re so wet,” you say, whispering into her mouth as you continue to satisfy her hole, hitting all the right spots.

“Yes. You made me do that, made me hot and dripping.” Yewon wrestles with the overwhelming pleasure coursing throughout her body to kiss you again. “I’m like this for you, okay? Just for you.”

As if you needed any more motivation to bring her all the pleasure and lust she wanted. Your wet digits pump inside her faster, making her jerk and buckle on you as she whines and moans uncontrollably, feeling waves of wanton bliss surge all over her. With two fingers buried to her hilt, poking at her most satisfying spots, Yewon is a few moments away from flying over the edge.

“Wait, wait, wait. Stop, stop, stop.” she gasps, feeling tense and on edge from her impending climax. You don’t waste a second as you regrettably draw your wet digits back before you proceed to taste her juices in your mouth. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask, puzzled by her sudden change of heart. She looked like she was enjoying every second of it. “I thought you were liking what we were doing so far.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s really good, but I want more.”

After you give her a moment to catch her breath, she catches your lips in another kiss. You’ve lost count long before that. When she breaks the smooch, her lust-filled eyes look down on you with renewed passion. She’s ready for another round.

“Sit up now, right against the headboard,” she says, commanding you like a superior, which you immediately comply with. 

Though her frame presses against you, you lean your body upwards in a sitting position before you arch your back against the wooden headboard. 

“Now, take off your shirt.”

You waste no time and immediately lift it over your head almost as fast as she demanded it. Her eyes peep down to gawk at your bare chest, brimming with even more lust than before. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.” She can’t help but place her hands against your stomach again. In the process, she props herself against your lap, making sure her plump ass is all over your pajamas, making your cock twitch beneath her perfect butt.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for years, baby,” she whispers in your ear. Her tone changes with the ever growing neediness in her soul. “I can feel how—how hard you are. Mmm. You like it when I grind against you like this?”

Her hips gyrate around your pitched tent, stealing more of your air. When she finds your eyes twitching up from the immeasurable pressure you feel, she smirks with greater confidence. 

“Do you like having me in your lap where you can feel my warm, wet pussy through your pants?” 

Between her sultry inflection and her shapely butt against your groin, you’ve never felt more suspended in such a pleasurable sensation in your life. Much like your restraint slowly slipping down, so do your loose pajamas. Yewon feels a thick protrusion beneath her, partially stimulating her moist cunt.

“You know those pajamas are really loose? They slip off so easily.” She suddenly reminds you of those damned bottoms. Her flesh feels so tight around you that you forgot you were still clothed at all—not that you need other thoughts lying around when she is effortlessly grinding you like a high-class lap dancer. “And I think I want them off again.”

It isn’t really a want, but more like a need. With a few powerful swings of her backside, she manages to pull down your pants again. This time your cock has room to breathe, unlike you. Somewhere in between her loosened bathrobe slips off her too. Now there’s really nothing between you two—only bare souls, both literally and figuratively.

“Fuck, wow.” Her eyes linger on your hard shaft, brimming with desire like she’s looking at shiny jewelry. The little precum that glistens under the dim light add to the effect.

Yewon plants her hands on your legs, her body stretched out before you as she brings herself closer to your dick. She looks up to you with pleading eyes. “I need you in my mouth, okay?”

With your eyes completely shut, you merely nod. The only want in your mind is the hot sensation of Yewon’s mouth or cunt—any piece of her to fill your need.

You hear your back thump against the headrest, but it’s immediately forgotten when you hear her lips smooch and peck your tip. Her soft hums send you into a pleasure-filled craze. When she gently kisses up your length, you hiss and recoil even as gently as she goes. Out of desperation, your hands flail and grapple for something, anything—until you settle for the edges of the board that you’re leaning on. 

She releases your dripping shaft from her plump lips. A little peek and you find it stained with dashes of white. You haven’t cum yet, but with the amount leaking, you might as well be.

Yewon looks up again. She notices your barely opened gaze. “Did I do this to you?” 

Yes. Absolutely.

Is what you would say if your brain can register and deliver language to the other parts of your body. Instead, what comes out of your mouth are indiscernible babbles. She doesn’t need to understand baby talk to realize what her babyfeels about her.

“Did you get hard for me?”

You’ll never outright admit this to her, but those peeks of her cheeks on stage, her ass trying to make itself known through tight underwear definitely turned you on. Maybe she does know; that’s why she’s doing it in the first place. To drive the point home, her bare ass sticks out, inviting you to grab her.

Works well enough, because a moment later, a hand is firmly planted on her backside. Her skin has never felt softer and more inviting.

Forget about the question at hand; Yewon takes you into her mouth again. Your other hand positions onto her hair. You tug her forward whenever she pulls back. At this point, it’s a complete mess. Her mouth is full of spit and precum; your cock is full of spit and precum. There’s a bit of red on your legs thanks to her nails, you leave spots on her butt in kind. She laps around your shaft until you’re full of imprints written in her saliva.

“You taste so good,” she says between licks. “I love the way your cock feels in my mouth.”

It’s almost dreamlike how she feels around your shaft. Her tongue swirls all over your length so smoothly it’s unreal. Everything about what she does feels almost like a mirage. She works to pleasure your dick harder as you ease into a more relaxing, comfortable position.  Your eyes slowly fade back into the darkness again. You wish to never wake up from this dream, at least until after you’ve reached the climax.

That is, until you’re given a hard reminder that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. 

“Look at me. Look down at me. I’m here. This is real—mmmph!”

Open your eyes; hers meet yours in a melting gaze. She takes you into her mouth completely, piercing her throat, more than enough to force you back to life. You gasp and pant while she continues to choke herself on your dick, coloring her tongue with even more little shots of white. Then you feel a sharp twitch on your groin; the sign of imminent release.

Feeling your probable burst, she quickly drops you with a pop louder than the last two. With a few swift motions, she rises to your level again, straddling your lap while her hands rest on your shoulders once more. 

Lifting herself slightly, lining your cock against her dripping slit, she whispers into your ear, “I want you inside me. Can I have you?”

Safety was a bottom priority to both of you. If anything, her soft bottom was what you needed the most.

The little nod signals your approval, much to her delight. With that, Yewon lowers herself down on your throbbing shaft. Seconds feel like minutes with each moment that you don’t feel her presence in your body, yet you still feel unprepared for how tight she was.

A collective groan escapes both your lips as Yewon impales herself to your sheath. You slightly hurt the back of your head as you recoil against the headrest, but it matters little, if not at all, when the pleasure of her suffocating pussy clenches greater than anything you’ve felt tonight—and she gave you head minutes ago. 

“God, I feel so full of you. It feels so good, mmph.” 

Yewon’s nails dig deep into your shoulders, drawing more marks on your body. She moans into your ear as you start to pump upwards into her tight, wet cunt, almost as if it was second nature even though it was your first time. In turn, she grinds her hips against yours, rolling her round ass around your lap like rubber. You grit your teeth as she sinks into your body deeper with each thrust, restraining your own moans to make room for her singsong, throaty whines. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this for so long.” The words leave her in a rushed, desperate way, but she meant every single one. “You feel so good—aahh!”

Your mouth latches onto her bouncy nipples as she rides you wildly, forgoing all sense of pace and timing. Elsewhere, your hands find themselves with handfuls of her plump, shapely ass. Full of bliss, she throws her head back as she wraps her arms around you in a deep embrace. Neither of you have the intention of letting the other go—not that you want to.

“Can I go faster?” she asks, between moans. No need to ask, that’s exactly what you desire her to do. 

Except that asking is meaningless when she proceeds to throw herself down quicker and quicker. She pushes your head into your chest when you start to slip away. The bed creaks as you continue to fuck her hard. Her cunt pulsates tightly against your cock as you thrust in her with just as much vigor as she has. As the friction builds up, you begin to feel like you’ve been set on fire.

Yewon then pushes your face up as you moan into each other. No eye contact, just the sounds of skin slapping skin and the occasional squeak of the small mattress. You don’t know what will break first: you or the bed. 

The yelp you make abruptly turns into a sharp scream. Suddenly you both grind to a complete halt.

Yewon’s no longer in front of you. She’s on your right shoulder, her teeth somehow deep into your skin. Realizing this, she pulls back a bit then looks at you with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry, sorry! Did I bite into your shoulder?” Her stare returns to your sore spot.

“I mean, you did, but it’s okay.”

“Really?” She looks at you again with twinkles in her eyes. “You don’t mind? You want me to leave marks?”

“Fuck, I do.”

“Fuck yes.” Yewon doesn’t waste a second to leave another red mark on your other shoulder, grazing your sensitive flesh with her teeth. To distract from the pain, she begins to bounce against your lap again. “I’ll mark you.”

It’s not fair she gets to have fun alone. So in turn, you nibble her delicate collar bones back. She whines between nibbles, a distraction you cause when you spear her constricting walls. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Yewon cups your face and intercepts you for a brief, passionate kiss. It’s immediately broken by her body riding up and down while you fuck her. She glares at you deeply. “And you’re mine now, right?”

You hurriedly nod, as if you already knew the answer—and you do. She kisses you on the lips once more. Undoubtedly correct.

“I’ll mark you so that we’ll both remember that—hnnghh!” 

Your lips burrow on her neck first, taking her by surprise. She retaliates by gnawing your nape. Before you know it, both of your upper bodies are colored red, from the collar bones, neck, shoulders, and chest. Somewhere in between, your fingers are intertwined together as well. 

All of it is a temporary distraction from what’s really happening: your eventual finish.

Push Yewon down to the mattress. Now you have the top position over her. Locking your fingers tighter with hers, you thrust in her faster and faster, all the while relentlessly nibbling her sensitive flesh with your teeth. Yewon might be a girl group member and under some company’s management, but you made it clear that she belongs to someone now. 

Her marks can easily be hidden. Your budding relationship can be hidden. What cannot be concealed anymore was your utter hunger for her.

You thrust in her faster and faster, her moans reaching a high you didn’t expect her to hit. Even as you try to slow down, attempting to save the hot sensation of her tight pussy suffocating your cock, you can’t. Try looking away, only to be brought back to her when she announces her impending end.

“Fuck, I’m so close, please! Please, I’m so close—”

There was no going back. You proceed forward with harsher, deeper thrusts as you hiss back, “I’m close, too.”

“That’s it. Please, cum for me. Cum for me.”

And that’s enough to finally push you over the edge. One was good enough, but two seals the deal. A handful of hard pumps and your mind goes blank. You hiss while Yewon groans your name louder as you reach your orgasms, one after the other. Her jaw drops as you fill her womb with a big load of warm seed, followed by her slick juices on your shaft. An exchange of moans of relief and satisfaction accompany your peaks as you drain the other more than you anticipated. 

Even as you orgasm, your body has no willingness to stop. She loosens her grip on you and lays dormant on the bed while you thrust in her until you eventually grind to a full stop. You lay your body beside hers as your cock withdraws, creating a thin string of white while the rest of your cum forms a huge puddle on the sheets.

Much like your position on the bed, you’re both upside down. Things won’t ever be the same.

Both of you allow silence to fill the room. There’s much to think about and you’re still sure this is a dream, even with her constant reminders.

Out of nowhere, Yewon starts to giggle. “When I said ‘We should adult it up,’ this isn’t what I meant.”

Roll your eyes with a bit of disgust, then turn to her. “Well we definitely acted like adults there, did we?”

“Shut up.” Yewon slaps your back jokingly at your retort before giggling heartily again. Afterward, she kisses you on the lips. She doesn’t regret a single moment that happened regardless. 

“I did mean it,” she continues, caressing your face with a wide smile and pecking you on the lips again. “Everything I said.”

Another kiss, another confirmation. 

“Look,” you say before uttering a wistful sigh. “I’ve never felt happier with you until tonight, but we should really talk about what this means for the both of us.”

“Yeah, I know. But we should probably go to bed, though. We have a long drive tomorrow.”

Your smile turns to a frown. You wonder if Yewon’s just dodging your questions or setting you up, especially after a confession like that, possibly leaving you sleepless for the night.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you, but if we’re gonna do this—”

“I promise. We’ll talk about it more in the morning. Definitely. Okay?”

You give her a nod, but with a brief reluctance in your motion. She reaches her pinky finger out. This can only mean one thing.

“Pinky swear.”

You extend your own pinky out in response. She hasn’t made a promise like that since you were children. Only then do you finally come to understand she genuinely means it, finally leaving you at peace about your long term relationship—at least for now.

“Well if we’re gonna be like that, might as well just sleep on the couch,” you say before turning away from her.

Yewon yanks your arm as you turn around and try to roll off the bed. She reels you back to her while both of you use your feet to grab the pillows away from you. You wrap your arms around each other as you cuddle yourselves to sleep, but not before you share another intimate kiss on the lips.

“Just come here and hold me, you dork.”

(A/N: This came out a lot longer and took longer than expected. I was really feeling lukewarm when it came to writing lately, but yeah. Unfortunate news for Jiho, hopefully she succeeds in her future activities. Anyway, I was surprised at how fluffy this was. Thank you for reading!)

[moonrazeeclipse]

Special - LOONA Haseul

18+ Loona Haseul x Male reader smut A/N:  I finally wrote my Loona bias. I’m pretty happy with how quickly I threw this together. Not much editing has gone into this.

Content tags at the end.

Masterlist

Word count: 5,351 (idk how there's this many)

Enjoy!

Tonight is brutally cold, not just the negative temperatures outside or the frozen water falling from the sky. Enter ‌your apartment and accept the warmth. Embrace the heat on your cold flesh. Brush away the snow from your jacket and the disappointment from your feelings. If tonight had gone to plan, you either wouldn’t be home at all, or you wouldn’t be alone.

The apartment had been heated all evening—your roommate has minor considerations for energy costs. A problem you stressed to her countless times without reparation. But right now, you were grateful for the cosy atmosphere it created in contrast to what lay outside. The snow continues to descend past your living room windows on the far side of the room. Between the black curtains, the white barrage falls in front of the backdrop of nighttime Seoul.

“Haseul?!” you call out into the mysteriously ‌vacant apartment. When you left in the afternoon, she said she would be here all night, and all the lights are on, so where is she? You hang up your jacket and take off your shoes before calling out again, “ya! Haseul?” 

In search of your roommate, you check the tiny kitchen first. You peer your head into the doorway to find it empty. You often caught Haseul here when she was cooking food. Her fried rice, in particular, was one of her best dishes, as was her soup that she always made when you were feeling under the weather. Alas, maybe it was a little late for her to be here. 

You flick the light switch in the kitchen and then the living room as you walk past it to your bedroom. That’s when you hear it. It was a rare treat for your ears to be blessed by this sound. Haseul usually reserved her music practice for when you were out of the apartment. Of course, right now, Haseul had no idea you were home. 

Haseul took the translation of karaoke far too literally. An ‘empty orchestra’ was a strict requirement. No matter how often you asked her to sing for you, she refused. However, you can now seize the chance to hear her play and heal your broken pride with this minor victory. To listen as best as you can, you press your ear against the closed door of her room. Her delicate fingers pluck away at the six strings of her acoustic guitar. She provides her own supporting melody for the main event of the evening, her melancholic voice. 

Her low tones lull you into a dreamlike state. Her voice is as clear as spring water and soft as silk. Each syllable is delivered with precision. Each word is an emotion-filled arrow fired into your eardrum.

“... I feel all this tension You show me no attention Yeah, you’re selfish with your affection

You make my heart beat Like it never has before I stare down at my feet As you walk—”

Haseul’s finger hits the wrong string and breaks her tune, cutting her off mid-verse.

“You were a little pitchy there, Seulie!” Silence answers your comments for a few tense seconds.

“YA!” Suddenly, the stomping of feet echoes through the apartment. Haseul marches to her door and swings it open. “You’re not supposed to be home!”

Haseul stands in the doorway of her room. Her face is a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Like traffic lights imploring you to stop, her cheeks burn red. Balled into fists, her hands hang by her side.

“I thought you had a date with a girl from that app? Why are you back so early?!”

“Well, I heard my favourite singer was performing here, so I came over. I can’t find her, though.” Pointing at Haseul, you tease, “All I can find is my annoying roommate, so where’s the singer?” You raise your hand to your face and place your forefinger onto one eyebrow and your thumb on the other—comically pretending to search, looking over and past Haseul.

“You’re such a goof and an unfunny one at that.” Haseul pouts and shakes her head while crossing her arms. 

“Ah, that hurts.” you clutch at your chest, then close your eyes and grimace to feign pain.

When your eyes open, you realise what Haseul is wearing, or rather, what she isn’t wearing. She is wearing a purple silk gown which hangs from her shoulders. The gown hangs open and creates a gap down the front of her body where she isn’t wearing clothes. There are no trousers or shorts in sight. She just wears her black lace underwear that hugs the flesh between her legs and extends over her hips. The opening also exposes the inside of her long legs down to her feet. Above her panties is her toned stomach, the faint outline of her toned abs on show. 

Haseul’s crossed arms present the principal attraction; they frame and push together her voluminous breasts. The low-cut lingerie barely covers her small nubs and offers a deep view of her cleavage. “Damn, Haseul, cover yourself up around the apartment. You’re going to give me a heart attack.” 

“Oh, come on, you’ve seen it all plenty of times before. Don’t overreact.”

“Well, in that case, how about a little tease?”

“Fuck you,” she says, waving dismissively and walking back into her room. Haseul takes the guitar on which her mistake ruined the song just moments ago and places it on the stand in her room. She then takes the little blue book from the bed and rounds the corner where you cannot see. After coming back into view, Haseul takes a seat on the bed. She pats her hand on the soft covers and says, “are you going to come in and take a seat or are you just going to ogle me from afar?”

“Ahem, right, yeah.” You step into the room, head towards the bed, and then take a cross-legged seat near the bed's centre.

“So, are you going to answer my question or not? Am I being too distracting for you to answer?” Haseul grabs the edges of her gown and pulls it over her body. 

“No, no.” To reverse her action, you place both your hands on hers. Haseul drops the gown back to her sides with a smirk on her lips.

“Well?”

“I got stood up.”

“So you didn’t even speak to her?” Haseul lets out an unfiltered belly laugh at your embarrassment.

“No, she never showed.”

“Maybe she did show, took one look at you and turned right around.” Haseul looks you up and down as she speaks, chuckling to herself as if mocking you.

“At least I go on dates. What about you?” 

Haseul’s smile disappears from her face, her lips now pursed, and her eyebrows furrowed. “Ya! That’s not funny. I’m just not… not—just don’t.” 

“Oh, but me getting stood up is hilarious?” 

She breaks out in a little giggle again and replies, “yes. Yes, it is. I thought you didn’t even like her much anyway? Why did you go?”

“She wasn’t fascinating, you're right, but she was hot.”

“There you go, thinking with your dick again. And if you want interesting women, you would stop using that app.”

“How else do I find someone?” Haseul drops her head and replies under her breath with words you can’t make out. “Huh?”

Haseul sighs and says, “maybe you should take a break to think about what you really want?”

“I suppose. My last four dates haven’t worked out at all. I can’t be that bad, right?” you ask quizzically.

“No, not at all,” she says with more sincerity. In an act of reassurance, Haseul places her hands on yours. “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.” 

“I’m looking at the right places right now, though.” You tilt your head forward to make sure she knows that you’re looking between the gap in the gown at her perfectly weighted mounds.

“Oh, seriously? You get rejected, and now you’re acting like some pent-up pervert?”

“You just spent the last five minutes with your push-up bra forcing your tits into my face.”

“Well, that's a bit of an overreaction and hey, what the hell? This isn’t a push-up bra, you horny fuck.”

“I dunno, Haseul, they’re not normally that big.”

“It’s been a week since you’ve seen them. Your memory must be as bad as your flirting, Mr Four-Rejections.”

“If my flirting is so bad, does that make you easy? Because it’s worked on you plenty of times.”

Haseul grabs the pillow from behind her and strikes you on the side of the head with the soft bag of feathers.

“That’s for calling me a slut.” She winds up and strikes you again. “That’s for being a pervert.” Again. A third hit to the side of your head. “That’s for saying I’m wearing a push-up.” This time, on the other side of your head, she connects with hit number four. “That’s for not fucking me for over a week.” 

Haseul winds up a fifth strike, a huge overhead lunge that bears down on the top of your skull. You reach up and catch the pillow, holding it now above your head. Your faces are closer together now. “There it is. Now, who’s horny and pent-up?” 

“Well, before someone came home rejected, I was about to get my toys out and fuck myself senseless.”

“Sounds like I made it home just in time, then. Maybe you should call and thank her for standing me up.”

“Yeah, I’ll stick to my toys. Thank you.”

“What did you say last time?” You pull on the pillow, taking it from her hands and throwing it back where it belonged. “I think it was, ‘Oh my god, your cock is so big, I never want to use a toy again.’ Do I remember that right?” 

Haseul strikes your shoulder with an open palm. “Fuck you!” 

“Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder; then it was ‘I only want to fuck you, I want to fuck you all day.’” You let out a soft laugh at her reddening face as she hits you again.

“God damn it, I hate you,” Haseul says through grinning teeth. Despite her rosy cheeks, your renditions of her words clearly excited her.

“Really? Because I bet you’re dripping wet right now that I’m making you relive those memories. Hate me? You fucking love m—love fucking me.” Haseul turns away from you. Maybe your last comment was a little too personal and not as fun as your imitations of her. You decide it’s best to dial back on feelings and make fun of her again.

You continue, “I can still picture your face now, right there on the bed, looking up at me as I fuck you. ‘Oh! Oh! Oh my god, yes! Fuck me harder, fuck me faster! That’s it! Oh, Oh OHH!’” You exaggerate your imitation of her orgasm by almost shouting at the top of your lungs. 

“I do not sound like that!” she shouts as she turns to face you. Her face is burning, but not in embarrassment. The raging blaze of desire inside her is apparent on both her fiery face and lust-filled eyes. “Let’s see if you can actually make me orgasm, and I will remind you how I actually sound.” Haseul leaps forward into a new sitting position. Her long legs wrap around your waist, crossing behind you. On your lap rests her thick thighs and ass. The soft flesh of her thighs melts around your jeans as she rests down on your lap. You bury your fingers into her soft flesh, which feels much like the pillow you just threw away. That’s not the only similarity between her thighs and her pillows—you’ve slept on both of them before. 

The heat of her core radiates onto your crotch as she pushes her body against yours before engaging you in a passionate kiss. A week without your body must have been torture for her. It was rare she came at you so aggressively for sex, but it was also welcome. She is hungry for your lips, eating them like her final meal. Between hungry periods of making out, she pauses only to bite your lower lip. Her nibbles hurt a little due to her aggression. If she doesn’t stop soon, your mouth will be sore.

“I’m going to make you orgasm, Seulie, more than once, and I’m going to make you scream so loud the neighbours downstairs will write a formal complaint—again.” Your words make her breath hitch. 

“Oh my god, please!” Her ‘please’ came out barely as a recognisable word, more so as a moan. Her eyes roll back as she pushes herself further into your body. The thin layer of her soaked panties rubs against your trousers. Haseul takes pleasure in just the slightest friction. “Mmmm, that feels so nice.” Her hot breath hits your face as she moans softly from just not-so-dry-humping you. A wet patch forms on your trousers, right over your stiffening cock. During her furious mounting of your body, you push the silk gown from her shoulders down to her wrists. Haseul slips both of her hands out of the cloth and throws it to the floor.

You take hold of her juicy ass. One cheek fills each of your palms. With a hard squeeze of your hands, Haseul lets out a small whimper and closes her eyes. You pull her in by her ass and push your own crotch forward, your stiff cock pressing your wet trousers against her crotch with more friction than before. With all the strength in your arms, you pull her body back and forth over your crotch. Her entire body is now under the control of your hands, and you play with her like a puppet. 

Haseul throws her head over your shoulder and her arms around you. She buries her face into the crook of your neck, alternating the actions of her mouth between biting your skin and moaning loudly right below your ear. Her hands claw at your back, pulling at the fabric of your shirt and occasionally scratching the skin below. You continue to grind Haseul’s body against your own forcefully. With a repeated push and pull of her wide hips in your hands. 

Haseul’s moans become more pronounced—louder and sharper. Her breath has become erratic and rapid. Short blasts of hot air hit your neck in relentless succession. To draw air deep into her lungs, Haseul’s chest heaves, and her heart pounds against your chest. The pulsations travel through the soft mounds on her chest which press against you.

“Are you about to cum for me, Seulie? Just from a little grinding?”

“Shut… shut up. And make—make me cum.” She gasps out the words through sharp, swift breaths. 

“I have to shut my mouth, but you can jus—” Haseul’s palm plants itself squarely in your face and paws around to find your mouth. Once found, she traps your lips shut.

“Shut up,” she sternly whispers into your ear. Haseul’s grinding is now aggressive as she chases her high. Her soft moaning stops; she holds her breath as her high hits her before releasing her pleasure in a long moan. Much like her singing, the pitch is perfect. Melodic. Her whole body shakes on top of you as she rides out the last of her orgasm on your crotch. Her juices become too much for the lace barrier to hold back and soak through onto your trousers.

Haseul releases her hold on you, falling backwards onto the bed. Her glistening thighs still rest over your own legs, a delicious dish presented on a fleshy platter. She takes a series of deep breaths with her eyes closed. “Fuck, that was good. I needed that.”

“Wow, Seulie, how long have you been holding that back?” You say as you stroke your hand over her still twitching pussy.

“Too long.” Haseul opens her eyes and smiles with a mischievous look. “Well, thanks for that. You can leave now.”

You can’t find the right words to answer back and sit there stunned into silence.

“Haha! The look on your face, I should take a picture. Now I know what you looked like sitting at that table when your date didn’t show.” 

Incensed by her teasing, you intend to wipe the smirk from her face. In one fell swoop, you push her drenched panties to the side and slip two fingers into her drenched, hot pussy. 

“Oh my god!” Haseul shouts before biting her lip in anticipation, but your next move shocks her. With your other hand, you pinch the flesh of her thigh. “Ow! What the fuck! That hurt!”

“Well, it’s your choice: Be nice to me, and I’ll make you cum again, laugh at me, and I’ll pinch you until these thighs are red.”

“You wouldn’t do that to my thighs. You love them too much, especially around your head,” she says before letting out a chuckle. You pinch again, a little harder this time, and you leave a small red mark. “Ow! Okay! No more jokes. Now please take my panties off and claim what’s yours.”

“That’s more like it, Seulie.” Despite her wanting pussy clinging to your fingers, you extract them to pull down her panties. A small whimper can be heard from Haseul’s mouth. You reveal fully what hides beneath: her well-kempt pussy. The smooth skin of her lips just barely hid the pink flesh inside. Her slightly open hole slowly closes again in the absence of your fingers.

You spread her thighs almost split to one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. Her new workout has really helped her flexibility and, with it, your sex life. With just two fingers, you spread her folds and admire what lies between them. It really is yours, just like she said. You’ve never heard nor seen any other men visiting Haseul. You were her satisfaction, and she was yours. Small whimpers escape Haseul’s lips as the tension builds; she waits for you to spring to action.

You reposition and dip your head into your favourite meal. You never had a chance to eat dinner, but that doesn’t matter. Just like when you were younger, you’re happy to skip right to dessert. And what a special dessert it is. From the first taste of her sweet juices discarded on the exterior of her pussy, your hunger is appeased but not satiated. You collect everything on her thighs and lips like it was liquid gold. In anticipation, your platter squirms on the bed before outright begging. “Please, just eat my little cunt. I’ve been waiting so long.”

Underneath her outstretched thighs, you hook your arms. Your hands reach up and take hold of her waist. Haseul takes a deep breath in preparation, one that’s both audible and can be felt in the movement of her stomach. You connect your open lips around her sweet spot and apply a little suction. With the first slow swipe of her clit with your tongue, Haseul exhales via a moan.

You lavishly lick at her swelling clit. The replacement of the rough friction of fabric with your wet tongue created a fresh sensation for the girl spread before you. One that she is not shy about as she calls out into the room, “That’s it! Right there. Don’t stop. You know how I like it.” That you did. You know exactly how to make her cum in your mouth, but you also know how to make her orgasm as intense as possible; tease her a little. You move your securely attached lips down to right over her hole and leave her clit unattended, much to Haseul’s dismay. She lets out a disappointed whine.

She loves how you like to switch things up and pleasure her differently. You fully extend your tongue, punching it into Haseul’s hole. Back and forth, you tongue fuck her until she resumes her soft moaning. This always leads to a more intense orgasm for Haseul and a larger deposit of tasty cum for you. 

Down Haseul’s toned midriff, right above your head, snakes a hand. Not yours, but Haseul’s. Reaching for her clit to force herself to orgasm. Action denied. You run one of your hands over her stomach to intercept the invader of your alone time with Haseul’s pussy. She calls down to you in a shaky voice, “nooo, let me cum. I need it.” You slide your hungry tongue out from inside her and position your mouth back over her clit. With your head back where she wants it, Haseul closes her juicy thighs around your head and crosses her calves on your back to pull you into her warm pussy. You apply a series of rapid licks to Haseul’s swollen clit, at a constant speed, rhythm and pressure. Now you will make her cum. 

“YES! That’s it! Right there! Yes. Yes! YES!” If Haseul weren’t shouting, you wouldn’t be able to hear her through the juicy thighs covering your ears. You can barely make out her muffled moans through the fleshy obstructions as they get louder and louder. The pressure on your skull peaks as Haseul’s thighs clench around your head. Her lower back rises from the bed as she pushes her pussy into your face. With that final push, the fluids that had been held inside her came crashing down onto your mouth and chin. The liquid falls like monsoon season. You desperately try to catch as much as you can in your mouth and savour her sweet taste, but there’s too much. Her sheets join your trousers in being ruined by Haseul’s cum.

“Wow, that was amazing. I admit you really are better than every toy I have.” You can hear her clearly again, even though her voice is now softer than before. Unleashed from your prison, you can sit up as her powerful legs fall back to the bed. All the hard work has made you unfathomably hot, so you pull your shirt over your head. “Take off the rest too,” Haseul says with a renewed hunger in her tone. “I’m going to ride you until you cum for me.” 

With your shirt off, you lie on the bed next to Haseul. “About time. I’ve been desperate to cum since you opened the bedroom door.” 

Haseul sits up to unbuckle your trousers and then pulls both them and your underwear off together and says, “you don’t have to wait any longer. I’m going to hump you dry.” Now on her knees beside you, Haseul leans over and looks down at your stiff cock. “You need to stop making me wait a week between rides. A cock like this is going to waste if it isn’t fucking every day—fucking me every day.”

“You can fuck me every day, Haseul.”

“Don’t let your horny mind write cheques you can’t cash. I’m serious. I want to fuck you every day. Then you don’t have to go around dating bimbos. You can just be with—you can just fuck me.” Haseul looks away from your face and down at your cock. Her aqua hair falls to hide her face. From behind the wall of hair drops a ball of her spit, which she catches in her hand. She rubs her hand messily over your entire stiff cock, covering it in her saliva. This is the first time tonight Haseul’s soft skin touched your cock, and it felt amazing. But it would not stop there. Haseul intends to up the ante quickly as she swings one of her legs over yours.

With her full ass and wide hips facing you, you admire the form of her sculpted body. Above her thick ass—which hovers teasingly over your cock—her arched back presents her two dimples on her lower back; they punctuate the crevice that runs all the way up her spine. Haseul herself may be an artist, but you’d like to meet the artist who crafted her. She is a genuine work of art. 

With a hand between her legs, she guides you against her entrance. After a little rub around her folds, she sets you in position. In a swift move, Haseul lowers her body onto the end of your cock. She takes you exactly to the hilt before you reach the tightening end of her pussy. It clenches the end of your cock. Everything you had done up to this point had only built Haseul’s arousal, enabling you to slide right into her wanting pussy. As the only cock she had ever had, her pussy seemed to preset to your shape. Her walls hugged you tightly, but never enough to push you out. She is made for you.

There is very little build up in pace. Haseul is intent on doing exactly what she set out to do—to hump you dry. Her plump ass threatens to run away from you each time she pulls it forward before she slams it back against you. She causes a tremor in her voluptuous body with each hit against your crotch. “You like that?” she calls over her shoulder. “You like my ass bouncing in front of you as I fuck your amazing cock?”

“I love it Haseul.” You reach out and play with her bouncing ass. You squeeze and pull at her flesh, which moulds under your touch like soft dough. “Your ass is amazing. Your whole body is amazing.” 

Now settled into a rhythm, Haseul swings her head back, and her hair falls onto her upper back like waves invading a golden beach. Her moans echo in the room as she shouts out directly up into the air. “Your cock is amazing! It’s filling my little cunt! You’re so fucking fun to ride! So long, so thick, so special!” Haseul continues to shout superlatives into the air as she enjoys every moment of your cock impaling her right up to her womb.

“Haseul, I’m getting close. Face me.” She does as you wish, regretfully pulling herself off your cock and then turning to lie on top of you. Haseul arches her back and reaches behind her to direct your cock from resting between her ass cheeks and back inside her. This is one of Haseul’s favourite ways to fuck you. She gets to orgasm again face to face with you, before pulling you out and letting you cum all over her back and on her ass. Her eyes show ‌she is close to step one, and the feeling in your stomach means you’re close to step two.

Haseul rests her head against yours. Your noses and foreheads touch, exchanging sweat between the two. She tries her best to keep her eyes open and look into yours as she slams her pussy down onto you, but the pleasure keeps making her eyelids flutter. You take a hand on each hip and match her movements. You buck your hips up into her to meet every bounce on your cock. Each time you make sure to bury yourself deep inside her. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Haseul. Look at me when you cum. I want to see your pretty face while you cum on my cock.” Your words alone sent her over the edge, but the hard fucking you are giving her seals the deal. She attempts to kiss you as she cums, but her moans make it impossible. She forces her eyes to stay open, but they roll back as her pussy tightens around your cock. It took every manner of breathing technique and willpower not to cum inside her. 

You continue to buck up into her, just enough to let her ride out her orgasm but not enough to finish yourself. As her orgasm finishes, she locks eyes with you again. “You look so beautiful when you cum, Seulie.” She blushes and buries her head into your neck. “Seriously, it’s something special. You’re special.”

Haseul freezes with her head still buried in your neck. For a few seconds, her body is tense. Static on top of you, your cock is still planted to the hilt inside her. Haseul raises her mouth to your ear and whispers, “cum inside me.” 

“But you sai—”

“No questions. Just cum inside me. Fuck me and cum in me right now.” Haseul bites your earlobe softly and moans into your ear as she moves her hips again. There was a newfound hunger in the way she rode you. Her pussy almost refused to let you out, gripping onto you like it was the only thing that mattered. Haseul speaks again, urging you on. “Go on. Fuck me. Fuck me and fill me. Make me feel special.”

You give her everything you have, holding her hips and taking as much leverage as you can to pump your cock into her pussy, intending to fill it completely. It doesn’t take much longer of her curvy body bouncing on you to draw you to the edge of cumming.

“Are you su—”

“YES! Cum for me!”

You release shot after shot of hot liquid from your cock buried deep inside her. You paint the very back of her tight pussy white with cum. With little space left in her pussy, it pushes through right into her womb. 

“Oh, fuck yes! That’s it! I feel it all inside me. Fuck, there’s so much!” She was right. After several shots of cum, you had completely emptied your balls inside her. “Now I feel special…” 

Haseul rocks her wide hips slightly with slow, timid movements to make sure she has milked you dry. As your cock softens inside her, Haseul throws herself off to the side, lying beside you. She takes one hand down to touch her leaking pussy, catching some of the liquid that falls out of her twitching hole. She lifts her hand and looks at the cum that’s on it. “I can’t believe you just filled me up. It felt so good, so right.”

“Haseul, what was that? What came over you?”

“I—I—nothing. I just—I’m going to go clean up.” Haseul reaches down the side of the bed and grabs one of her spare towels, holding it between her legs as she sits, then stands, and then walks to the bathroom.

You relax for a moment and soak in the events of the night. What started in being painfully stood-up, then a cold walk through the snow-covered streets of Seoul, ended with you fucking your roommate—which was relatively normal. Then you cummed inside her—which was absolutely abnormal. 

You’re not sure why it had happened, but you didn’t want to dwell on curiosity. The intense sound of the gushing water inside the bathroom fills the apartment. You ‌look around the room as you regain your strength. 

Protruding from under the wardrobe is a little blue book. You recognise it from earlier, the one Haseul put away before inviting you in. It couldn’t hurt to have a look right. It was out in the open, after all. The cover of the book reads ‘Lyric Journal. You never knew she wrote her own songs; she really is talented. The ribbon marks a particular page in the middle of the book. You flick it open to that page and a verse to a song with various markings on the page.

And the title of that page? 

Your name.

Thanks for reading, interactions are appreciated. <3

Tags/TW: Cunnilingus, Cream-pie, Breeding, dry-humping, oral, angst.

[moonrazeeclipse]

Initial D'ed

Le Serrafim Chaewon x Male Reader

5045 words

My first ever Chaewon smut. And maybe the start of something new? We'll see. Please play your favorite eurobeat song while you indulge.

"They're right behind us."

Police sirens were only an annoyance, like a dog that was all bark and no bite. They did nothing to deter you, and only served as distracting background noise, accompanying flashing red and blue lights that were just a blur in the rear-view mirror. 

The smell of burning rubber permeated the air, with the wind in your face, and beams of sunlight reflecting off the hood. Three pursuit cars chased behind, with more on the way, but there was never a need to worry. It wouldn’t be a problem, not unless you made a mistake—and you never did.  

“I need thirty seconds to disable the tracker.” 

Hands gripped the steering wheel, not even bothering to look back behind you, while a petite woman in the passenger seat fiddled with a small black device underneath the glove box. 

“Then work your magic.” Tires screeched, and the car fired off like a bolt of lightning, as the distance between struggling cops became even more embarrassing. 

“Tracker disabled. Can you lose them?” The woman in the passenger side asked, intently focused on the police scanner without any expression on her face. Police comms never sounded so desperate. 

“Of course. I can lose anyone.” 

“You better. The puppet master won’t like it if we’re late.”

“The PM can kiss my ass then.” 

Highways were a death sentence, especially when traffic was this bad, and you needed to get the hell out of there. You’d never lose cops like this. Even when speeds approached over 150 mph, wailing sirens grew louder and louder.

“They still have eyes on us. Two behind us, one charger on your right. They might pit us.” 

“They can try.” Not that you’d ever give them a chance to, and with a hand on the shifter, you floored it, weaving through traffic on the wrong side of the road. The adrenaline in your body sky-rocketed. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before, but it always came with risk—but with high risk came high reward. 

“Just don’t get cocky.” 

Vehicle still southbound, approaching dangerous speeds over 150 miles per hour. Be advised, now heading into opposing lanes of travel. Requesting additional units. 

The woman beside you looked nervous as she looked behind her, then focused on bright beams from the many death traps headed your way. Against her better judgment, she had confidence in your skills. 

“Chaewon, it’ll be fine. I’ve got this.” The sleek vehicle purred beautifully as you dashed in and out of traffic, loud horns blaring at you. One wrong move would send the both of you to the hospital, or worse, but you wouldn’t let that happen. 

“I sure hope so. I’d hate for this box to be my grave.” 

Your carefree words did little to put Chaewon at ease, but it wasn’t your job to keep her cool, just to arrive in one piece unscathed. When you spotted a break in the traffic, you pushed the car to its limits and drove back onto the proper side of the road, then took the exit, and rounded the corner back into the city. Sirens still roared behind, a constant reminder not to let your guard down. 

“I’ll lose them in two turns. Just watch.” 

“Bet. You owe me dinner if you don’t.” Dashing past several red lights, you took a left, went through a parking garage, out the other end, then took a right and under an overpass. Sirens were a faint murmur in the distance, and you saw flashing lights across the upcoming intersection, heading in the opposite direction. 

Vehicle currently VCB, last spotted heading northbound off exit 24

“You’re toying with them. This isn’t a game.” 

“Relax, Chae. It’s not my fault they make it too easy.”

“Wow, congrats. You out drove a bunch of cadets. Want a gold medal?” Chaewon turned her head and caught eyes with you, just to let you know it didn’t impress her. 

“Just mark the dropoff spot, sweetie. Maybe someday you’ll be able to drive this well.”

“You know cars aren’t my preference. I much prefer to have something thick between my legs.” Chaewon smirked, with her arms folded, and her cute nose twitched.

Miles of road went driven unfollowed, which gave ample time to catch your breath while you pulled into the destination—an empty, unmarked garage by the docks. 

“You’re reckless,” Chaewon scolded as she exited the car. Her round eyes widened and her gaze was intense. It was hard to tell the validity of her emotions. 

“Maybe. But did we get caught?” 

“Not yet. Day isn’t over, though.” 

A message popped up on your phone. Car has been successfully dropped off. Rank upgraded. Please leave the area.

“Another successful job. Guess I’ll see you later. Thanks for the help, Chaewon.” 

“What? You’re just going to leave a girl here alone? My bike isn’t anywhere near here,” Chaewon scoffed. 

“You can take care of yourself, can’t you? Want me to call you a cab?”

“Hell no. I’d never be caught dead in some smelly taxi. It’s just—”

“What? Spit it out.” 

“You know, it’s just—racing gets me all types of excited. I love the feeling of being a fast car, escaping from those dumb cops. It just really gets me going.” 

“Yeah, I know the feeling. My heart is still racing. I almost spun out a few times.” 

“Not that kind of excited, dumbass!” 

“Then what—”

Chaewon grabbed your shoulders, pushing you against the nearest wall, inside the garage with your back pressed up against it. She moved quicker than a cat and grasped your face, silky lips crashing against your own. The sweet, unforgettable taste of her mouth invaded yours, tongues colliding, dueling with one another, fighting back and forth to see who had the upper hand. 

“You’re so fucking oblivious,” Chaewon spat out. The only retort you had was biting on her lower lip, and swiping your tongue across her teeth, before you captured her mouth, and took your fair share of dominance. Your faces were a hair's breadth away, but the vacant stare she gave off didn’t last long, betrayed by the lust in her eyes that demanded your lips back on hers.

“Or maybe you’re just too easy to read,” you said, gazing into Chaewon’s round eyes. It was hard not to stare down at the plunging neckline of her dress and the escaping cleavage that drew your eyes to her breasts. Your hands didn’t stay idle, wandering around her creamy skin, and hooked your fingers into both straps of her dress. 

“No—just fuck me against this wall. We don’t have much time before the PM shows up to pick this up. I don’t want him to be here when you’re balls deep inside me.” 

“Fair enough. I’ll get my crew to send a car to pick us up,” you said, eyes exploring the curves of her desirable body. ”That dress looks great on you, Chaewon.” 

“Everything looks great on me. Now don’t keep a girl waiting.” 

It was unfortunate you didn't have the time to explore Chaewon’s perfect body. Her naked body had blessed your eyes many times before, but you’d have to wait for a more opportune time to give it the attention it deserved. As much as the puppet master didn’t intimidate you, that didn’t mean that you wanted to get on his bad side. 

With no hesitation, you spun Chaewon’s compact frame around, and hiked up her little black dress past her tiny waist. It was a pleasant surprise that she didn’t have panties on to get in the way, presenting her round, spankable ass that you felt inclined to do just that—and slapped one cheek hard. 

“Fuck!” Chaewon gasped, and bit her lip. She placed her palms flat on the wall in front and stuck her ass out to entice you more. “Make it hurt.” 

When your focus shifted to Chaewon’s delicious backside, you gave her plump cheeks a firm squeeze, then kneaded them with your fingertips, before you delivered another harsh spank. The smack of warm flesh was addicting, as was the jiggle that Chaewon’s cheeks made when your palm struck it. Each smack rippled the pale cheeks harder than the last, and you followed up with squeezes of the tender skin. Chaewon tried not to moan too loud, but she couldn’t hide her satisfaction. The harsh sting on her backside drove her wild. 

One more loud spank, then two fingers traced the outline of her ass and dipped lower. They moved between her legs and rubbed her bare slit. A smile formed on your face by the amount of slickness that coated your fingers with arousal. 

“You’re drenched,” you whispered, and made Chaewon blush from ear to ear. Perhaps the thrill of a chase turned her on more than she led on, but most likely Chaewon being spanked a little too much, the answer being a combination of the two. 

“And you’re fucking hard as a rock,” Chaewon said. She pressed her bare ass against your bulge and wiggled her hips. “Hurry and put it in me already.” 

With hurried movements, you unzipped your pants, dragged them down, and took your boxers off at the same time. Chaewon eyes brightened and snatched your cock up. Her slender fingers wrapped around your length, then she pumped slowly with a firm squeeze, and stroked it from base to tip. 

“It’s still as big as I remembered.” Chaewon spread her legs wide for easy access, and aimed your shaft between her legs. The delicate movements she used made you throb. 

“Fuck me here, or fuck me here. Your choice,” Chaewon said, as she lined up the swollen head of your cock against her pussy, then her little puckered hole. Both options were optimal, but the way your shaft twitched more against the rim of her ass made the choice easy for you. 

Greed filled your body—you wanted Chaewon’s pussy just as much, but you couldn’t waste a chance to stuff her shapely ass with your cock. “You know how much I love your ass.”  

Chaewon looked back, wearing lust on her immaculate features. “Then shove your big cock in it. Don’t even think about pulling out.” 

“Like I could ever pull out of such a perfect ass.” You felt a demonstration was in order, so you lowered yourself down and dug your fingertips into her buttcheeks, spreading them wide apart. 

Chaewon’s plump ass was supple enough that even when you cupped it, it didn’t fully fit in your hands. Unable to hold back, you shoved your tongue in her sweet little asshole and swirled it around. 

You could tongue Chaewon’s ass until your tongue grew numb. It was truly a taste to be savored. The cute whines she made while your tongue explored her hole were just like you remembered. But before you got lost with your face buried in between her cheeks, you didn’t let yourself get carried away. There would be a time and place to eat Chaewon’s ass like a feast. So you took one more round of teasing licks and slickened her asshole up enough to prepare it for the pounding it was about to take. 

When you stood back up, your cock twitched at the sight of her exposed ass. Chaewon’s cheeks were so perfectly sculpted, and so well defined, that you needed to slap your hard shaft on them, desperate for some relief with your cock so pumped to the brim with blood. 

“Why isn’t that inside me yet?” It was a valid question for sure, one that you didn't have an answer to. It was hard to take your eyes off her welcoming cheeks, yet you didn’t want to be caught with your pants down—quite literally when the PM arrived. So after you released a held breath, your cock slid inside Chaewon’s very tight asshole, and somehow managed just past the tip while it disappeared inside. 

“That’s fucking it,” Chaewon moaned, and tilted her head back. Her ass eased back onto your cock, as her hips moved at a sluggish pace. 

“Still so damn tight,” you hissed, and slowly stretched her little asshole out. it had been too long since you felt such a strong clench around your shaft. 

“Of course. Did you expect something else? You’ll never find an ass tighter than mine.” Chaewon wasn’t wrong—even when you started pumping in and out of her warm asshole, it strangled your cock with a tight vice grip on the few inches trapped inside, and demanded more. 

“Fucking hell, Chaewon. I’ve missed pounding this ass so much.”

“The feeling is mutual. Nobody stretches me like you do.” The whiny moans Chaewon made through pursed lips were music to your ears, as she savored the fusion of pleasure and pain coursing through her body. “You know I like it rough. What are you waiting for?” 

If there was any reason you were holding back before, you wouldn’t be anymore. You snatched her hips, forcing yourself deeper into Chaewon’s asshole, and filled her to the hilt, just to withdraw, then slammed back in. She felt so fucking tight it drove you crazy, almost painful to pump into her as you formed a rhythm in harsh, rapid thrusts. You wouldn’t let up for a moment. 

“Fuck yes, just like that! Pound that ass harder. Wanna feel every fucking inch of that big cock. I love when you’re so deep, holy shit. Stretch my tiny little asshole out as wide as you can.”

“I forgot what a dirty mouth you had. My cock still makes you this needy?” 

“Hmph. Just shut up and fuck me. Fuck me until you explode in me.” 

That was something you had no problem doing. It was more of a rush fucking Chaewon’s tight ass than any chase could ever give you, and your cock was such a perfect fit inside her. It was less of a struggle to bottom her out than expected, and the view of your shaft penetrating her inviting asshole was perfect.

“Harder, fuck me harder, “ Chaewon begged between needy moans, and pushed herself back onto your cock, which made the delicate slide in and out of her asshole feel more incredible. You were inclined to give her what she wanted, and gripped her hips harshly until the deafening slap of flesh against flesh echoed around the metal walls. 

“Oh my god, yes! Pound my asshole, I wanna be filled with your cum!” 

Desperate cries for more did not go unanswered, which unleashed the feral beast inside you. Now you moved with uncontrollable thrusts, hips in a frenzy as you rammed into Chaewon’s ass without a care, her tight hole nothing but an outlet for the built-up lust she created. 

Harsh smacks returned to her plentiful backside, and the pale cheeks took on a familiar rosy hue. Relentless spanks after each frantic thrust made in an attempt to absolutely ruin Chaewon’s small body. 

But somehow you weren’t fucking her hard enough. If Chaewon still had the ability to speak coherently, then you hadn’t done your job properly. Too focused on your own pleasure, you ignored the pool of liquid that formed underneath her thighs from an unknown number of orgasms, and your fingers pressed into her warm skin deep enough to form bruises. You held Chaewon steady against you, and moved so roughly her legs were liable to give out, but all you could hear were the needy moans and whines from her not so innocent lips. 

“Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a whore in public? We could have waited until we were at my place, but you were so fucking desperate to get dicked down. That pussy was just too wet, wasn’t it? You couldn’t wait for me to rail your ass?”

Between the smack of your hips against her ass, Chaewon felt lost in the pleasure, and it took a second for her to respond. 

“God, you always—you always talk too fucking much. But fuck, you’re right. I can’t help that I love your fucking cock. Fuck, it just fills my asshole so well!” 

Chaewon couldn’t stop moaning. Yet you fucked her ass like you had something to prove—like she wouldn’t ever find anyone able to fuck her this rough or deep, like you had staked your claim to it. You’d never really admit it, but there was a mutual desire for each other—you lusted for Chaewon just as much as she did for you. 

You fucked Chaewon with so much strength; it was as if your cock belonged inside her welcoming, warm asshole. Chaewon took everything you gave her with gusto and still wanted more. 

“Cum inside me. Use me to drain your balls, empty your hot load into my tiny little asshole.” 

Chaewon’s dirty mouth sent tingles up your spine. Slick coated her thighs, and they only grew wetter the more you railed her, as she savored every frantic thrust that slammed her body. Time was short, and you couldn’t hold out much more if you wanted to. Chaewon felt a little greedy and took one more intense orgasm that made her thighs quiver, then scrambled to latch onto anything on the empty garage walls.

There was no doubt Chaewon could tell you were close, but the diverse stream of profanities that escaped her lips wouldn’t last much longer, and neither would you. You could probably count to ten, but there was no way you’d make it past nine before you exploded. Not when Chaewon’s asshole squeezed your cock this tight, and urged your load out at a rate faster than expected. You held her hips steady, pulling her back, then jammed your throbbing shaft up her little asshole. With such striking thrusts, you’d expected her to break, but she held on until you reached the point of no return. 

“Cum for me.” 

Chaewon looked over her shoulder, whispered those three heavenly words, and you lost it. 

Everything stood still—you held tight the bruising grip on her heavenly hips, and kept up the momentum, inching closer and closer until you couldn’t hold out. 

After you looked down at Chaewon’s parted cheeks, the orgasmic sight of your cock disappearing between them was the last thing you needed. Her name on your lips was the last syllable out of your mouth as you buried your shaft deep into her asshole, erupted violently, and pumped her incredibly tight asshole full of cum. There hadn’t been a better sense of relief as Chaewon milked your cock, her ass wringing out every little last drop out of you, with the constant pulsations and spurts filling her up to the very brim. 

You wanted to cum in her again. Even after you flooded her asshole with cum, you wanted to fill her up again, and again, and again, until there was nothing left in your balls to empty. But the thrusts in your hips involuntarily slowed down until you couldn’t move much more. It would do for now as you pulled out and watched the thick amounts of cum you blasted inside her gaped hole leak out. If you still knew Chaewon—and you’re pretty sure you did, one time wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her. 

“Holy shit, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been fucked like that? That was—”

“Amazing?” you said, and answered for her. 

“Don’t get cocky. I hate when you’re cocky. Just because you fucked me stupid doesn’t mean—”

Sounds of tires pulling up interrupted whatever thought Chaewon had. Several car doors opened. then shut, and put a panic inside Chaewon. 

“Shit! It must be the puppet master. We’re fucked!” Chaewon frantically pulled her dress down and tried fixing her messy hair. 

“Relax, it’s my crew. They brought us a car, but they know how to be discreet. They left already. It’s not the PM.” 

Chaewon wouldn’t believe it until she saw it. She began exiting out the garage, when it hit her just how difficult it was to move. 

“God, I can barely walk.”

“If I recall, you wanted it this rough. You quite literally begged for it.” 

“Shut up, I never begged. Let’s get out of here before the PM comes. You’re driving. I can barely feel my legs.”

✦✦

Driving on the highway at the speed limit felt strange. No blaring sirens when you looked back, no cars trying to ram you off the road, just limitless roads, the music blasting, and Chaewon by your side. It was quite peaceful. 

“How much longer?” Chaewon asked, fidgeting in her seat, and played with the straps of the seat belt. 

“At least an hour. You know how long this drive takes.” 

Chaewon rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you’re driving so slow for a racer. I’m falling asleep.” 

“I’m driving ten over. I don’t want to get pulled over. The police probably have our descriptions.” 

She stayed silent and just listened to the sound of cars passing by. But Chaewon was never really silent for long. 

“I’ve got a better idea.” Chaewon unbuckled her seatbelt, and leaned over, then casually reached over the center console. She slid a hand over your leg, caressing dangerously close to your crotch, and gave your thigh a squeeze. 

“Eyes on the road, sweetie,” she said, before you could see the smirk that formed on her lips. 

“Chaewon, what are you—”

“Don't question it, just drive. But speed up. Go at least eighty.” 

Your foot pushed down on the pedal enough to meet Chaewon’s demands, as slim fingers teased your crotch, circling your shaft. “Just focus on the road.” 

It wasn’t that hard to keep your attention on the road, for now. Chaewon would surely change that, when her fingertips traced the fly of your pants, and made them tighter. 

“Consider this practice.” 

“Practice?” It got more difficult to keep your composure while Chaewon palmed your hardening cock through the fabric of your pants. She leaned out of her seat and kissed the side of her neck, right behind your ear.

“You’re not always 100% focused when you’re driving away from the cops, are you? You’ve got so many things to deal with: sirens, lights, trackers, other cars in the way.” 

Her fingers began unzipping your pants, and at the same she blew hot air into your ear and reduced her sweet voice to a whisper. “I’ll give you such a huge distraction, and you’ll have no choice but to keep your eyes on the road.” 

You knew what she was doing. You knew exactly what she had had planned, but there was no way in hell you’d stop her. “Assuming we don’t run off the road.” 

“Well, don’t run off the road then.”

Easier said than done. She took one lick against your neck, then moved to nibble your earlobe, fiddling with the button of your pants until she had enough space to slip a hand down your pants. It was safe to say controlling your breathing—or anything else wouldn’t be simple.

“The only thing you need to worry about is that fantastic driving of yours. I’ll do the rest.” 

It was easy for her to say, like you weren’t going crazy just with her small hand on your cock, stroking ever so slightly. You’d have to remember to buy one of those remote vibrators the next time she wanted to drive and offer some “practice” of your own. 

The next step in Chaewon’s well-calculated plan was to get rid of your pants, just enough past your knees to give unfettered access to your cock. Fingers teased around the swollen head, squeezing enough to earn a subtle groan from your lips as she stroked your length.”

“How long has it been, an hour since you destroyed my ass? And you’re this hard already? Looks like your balls have filled back up too. Fuck, I must really turn you on that much.”

It was pointless to answer her when your precum trickled down her fingers. “Such a big, juicy cock, all for my hungry little mouth to suck on.”

Several teasing licks later and Chaewon had you in the palm of her hand, figuratively and literally. So much so that your foot involuntarily slipped off the pedal, lowering the car’s speed to a more considerable limit. 

“No cheating. If you slow down, I’ll stop.” 

Chaewon couldn’t help but enjoy the situation you were in, and ran her wet tongue around the tip of your cock, smiling smugly when she licked the aching slit, lapping up the mess she had created. As if that wasn’t enough to neglect your attention towards the road, Chaewon lowered her head down and wrapped her lips around your leaking tip and brought you into her warm mouth. 

It was a natural reaction to close your eyes, but you forced them open, and just gripped the steering wheel hard enough to change the color of your knuckles. Chaewon, however, had no mercy. She sealed her lips tight, then pushed down until her mouth rested at your base, pulling back at an excruciatingly slow pace while dragging her tongue back up. 

Repetition was the name of her game. Slow bobbing of her head ensued, followed by playful licks around your leaking head that traced down the length of your shaft. Once Chaewon was done, she dipped down to coat your balls with saliva, and sucked on each one for a few seconds—not quite long enough to give actual pleasure. 

Unsafe speeds be damned, you craned your neck down enough and saw streaks of red Chaewon had left on your cock from her favorite lipstick. It was pure agony to not do anything but stare through the windshield, and you felt the compulsion to grab the back of her head for a necessary outlet. 

“No. Keep both hands on the wheel. I told you to let me do the rest.”  

Such demands weren’t something you were used to, but neither was getting blown at high speeds during the middle of a highway. Chaewon needed to shift her body around, getting in a more comfortable position with her legs stretched out, with her knees on the passenger seat. It was helpful her small frame allowed her the free rein of movement, but also gave anyone passing by a very obvious view of exactly what she was doing. Not that either of you cared. 

Chaewon paid close attention to the way your cock reacted to her touch, and with every lick and tender suck of her lips, she extended her motions, until you moaned the right way for her. She was having way too much fun with this. 

It was a bad idea to look down to your lap at Chaewon’s bobbing head. “This is one hell of a distraction.” 

Loud, hungry slurps filled your ears before Chaewon responded. “I know. But after this, we’ll be even better at escaping the cops. You’ll be able to drive with your eyes closed.” 

You wished you could close your eyes, if only for a moment, to process the warm mouth swallowing up your cock, sending shivers of electricity after every stroke. Chaewon had moved past the teasing stage. Her lips were now wet with saliva and secured around your shaft, taking it all down her throat with ease, and burying her nose down to your crotch successfully every time. 

“Fuck, Chaewon.” Words grew a little difficult to mouth out. It became more impossible to keep eyes focused on the road, when Chaewon’s talented mouth slobbered all over your cock and sucked with a renewed determination. 

Your fingers hurt from how hard you gripped the steering wheel, but there were limited options to what you could do, and regretted every time you looked down at the blur of bobbed hair that sucked with intense, sharp suction. Her tongue and lips did everything to make you mad with pleasure. And it was working.

Chaewon was driving you insane. 

Every second that went by surprised you that the car didn’t slide away from you. Chaewon hummed around on your cock, sending strong vibrations that upped the pleasure, and the intoxicating squeeze of her throat when pursed lips slid up and down. It was all too much. 

“Chaewon—”

She only responded by bobbing her head frantically and slurped loudly, with her tongue flicking wildly out of control. Her hands weren’t idle either—one fondled your balls, and the other squeezed your thigh to encourage exactly what she wanted. Your stomach coiled, forming an uncontrollable blaze that couldn’t be put out, and you just held the steering wheel tight for dear life while you embraced the inevitable.

Chaewon felt the persistent throbs of your shaft, which made her plunge her lips down as far as they could go, with her cute nose flush with your stomach as you emptied down her throat. 

Somehow, you kept the car steady, with strained moans while her lips drained your balls. Constant suction demanded your load, and it was so much cum Chaewon nearly choked on it.

It wasn’t Chaewon’s favorite way to make you cum, but when she had absolute control over you, she’d take it. She waited for every drop to be milked out, and savored the weight of your thick load on her tongue before she pulled back, tilted her head back, and swallowed it down in several gulps. 

“God, how do you still cum so much? All that cum in my asshole wasn’t enough?” Chaewon asked with a satisfied smile, and licked your shaft clean, not wasting a drop, as she admired the lipstick she had smudged all over your cock. 

“This was your idea.” 

“You’re right, it was but—”

Chaewon didn’t have time to finish her sentence when the blare of sirens popped up behind you. In your orgasmic trance, you hadn’t realized you were going over one-hundred mph, thirty miles well over the speed limit. 

“Here we go again.” 

“Guess it's a good thing we practiced,” Chaewon said, returning to her seat, and buckled herself back in. “Lose them, and we can find a nice, quiet place for round three in the backseat. That is, if you still have any cum left to dump in me.” 

“Oh, I’ve got plenty, trust me. So you better head back there and get ready to take that dress off.” 

[moonrazeeclipse]

Subterfuge And Submission - Pt. 1 - ft. LE SSERAFIM Nakamura Kazuha

18+ Le Sserafim Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader

A/N: My first collab with @sooyadelicacies, huge credit for a lot of this content. This one was a lot of fun to write since it's different to my previous work and is my first (and definitely not last) Lesserafim smut. Also, thank you to V1n for proofreading.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think by commenting, liking and re-blogging.

Words: approx 4,100.

"So, they sent you after me? If I had known they would send someone so stunning, maybe I would have tried to get caught sooner.” You scan her—admire her—from head to toe. ”Are heels the best thing to wear on an assignment like this?” you scoff at her choice of gear for a task as difficult as taking you down. “Nevertheless, what's your name?"

“These heels? Please.” She smirks with a confident bravado that few would dare to show in front of you. “Just wait until you see how nimble I can be, and you won’t be questioning my choice of outfit anymore. And my name? You think you deserve to know that?”

"As much as I'd love to stay and take in your beauty, I have no plans anytime soon to let you or anyone from your organisation capture me. I'll be going now." You head to the door on your right to leave the room.

She glides to intercept your path like a ballerina across the glossy wooden floor. She executes a swift grapple to drop you onto your back; her high heel applies the finishing touch—right over your neck. 

“Still questioning these high heels now?”

You relax against the cold wooden floor, unintimidated. "I don't know what they told you about me, but I promise you don't want to do this. Let me go, and you won't have to get hurt."

“From where I’m standing, it looks like those rumours are nothing more than myth, and it only takes one foot to keep you down. Go on. Impress me.”

In a flurry, you strike her leg with your palm to bring her to her knees. You use the momentum to overpower Kazuha, then grab hold of her neck, and force her down to her back. You transition your hands to her wrists and place your body weight over her to keep her pinned.

"I could kill you if I wanted. So many members of your company failed before you. Do you think I've eluded you all for so long because I'm weak?” You lower your face closer to hers and stop just before they touch. A hint of her perfume rises into your nose, a woody scent with floral undertones. She doesn’t blink as she holds your gaze. “As for you, I guess they sent some rookie after me because your resources are thin, either that or someone had a little too much faith in you… Now, I'll ask again: what's your name?"

“Kazuha. Maybe that’s my real name, maybe it’s not, but that’s what you’ll call me.” She stifles a giggle with a smirk before continuing, “maybe you could kill me. Maybe you couldn’t. But I know that you won’t.”

“Yet,” you reply promptly.

She glances down at your body, hovering just above her own. “You definitely aren’t weak. So it’s a good thing that I’m not here to fight you.” 

"If you aren't here to fight me, why are you here? If you were after me like the others, this would end in a fight, a pretty one-sided one. What is that you're actually here for, Kazuha?"

“You have your methods, and I have mine. Sometimes violence isn’t the only answer. Sure, you could take down every operative we send to fight you. Me?” Kazuha pushes her knee up the inside of your thigh, pressing into your crotch. “My methods are a little different.”

"Well, miss Kazuha, if I didn't know any better, you were sent here to seduce me. Why would the company ever think  I'd accept capture in exchange for a fuck?” In a desperate search, she glances side-to-side as you pressure her. The safe room only contained your temporary surveillance equipment at the far side—nothing for her to use. “Some of them are probably friends of yours… Don't you just hate me for that?" you ask teasingly, trying to force her hand.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your body tells me something else.” Kazuha presses her knee slightly into your crotch, the direction in which a lot of the blood in your body is flowing—causing you to stiffen. “You could have killed me by now. Hell, I could have killed you by now. But we both know that’s not what either of us really wants.” 

Her other leg joins the first, tucked between your own. In one fell swoop, she lifts your lower body, and her hands slip from your grasp, then she pulls your head down. You flip forward, crash down the wooden floor and land on your back. Kazuha utilises her athleticism to roll backwards, taking position above you, sitting on your crotch with her hands on your chest.

"Oh, you're different from the others, alright. So what are you going to do to me? Nakamura Kazuha?" 

Startled for a brief second that you knew her identity from the start, Kazuha lets out a soft sigh as she regains her composure and redoubles her efforts.

She leans in close to your ear; the potent concoction of jasmine and cedarwood in her perfume fills your airways, confirming your earlier suspicions. Her breath hits your ear as she whispers, “you know all about me. I know all about you. You know what I want. I know what you want. So what are you waiting for?” 

"If you know what I want, you know what I want to be called before I give you what you desire. I also know how dripping wet you are. A powerful woman that just wants to be ruined and railed, don’t you? So let's both drop this little cat and mouse game, baby girl."

Kazuha whines lightly at your words. “If you think I’m going to call you what you want without proving you’re worthy, you’re wrong.” She leans back, pushing down on your crotch with measured force. With her arms raised above her head and each hand holding opposite elbows, she asks, “now, how about you get me out of this suit?”

You narrow your eyes at her. Oh, she was a fun one, alright, but you'd make her submit. They always did. You use your upper body strength to lift yourself and your hand to yank at the zipper on the front of her suit, pulling it cleanly to the bottom and exposing panties and lack of a bra underneath. "Not wearing much under the suit, huh? Hot." You slowly apply your touch, one hand to caress her thigh to turn her into putty. 

A soft purr escapes Kazuha's barely parted lips. She takes one of your hands in hers, pulling your hand onto her toned midriff. "Why would I cover up something this good?" she speaks with a breathy tone as she pulls your hands up her stomach. Your fingers slither up her toned body. "Don't you agree?" she asks as she trembles at your touch. Take your pick, left or right? Which of her perky tits will you play with first?

Lips first, you lunge forward with a growl, latching on to one as you touch and toy with the other in your hand.

"Mhmm~. Shit, that’s good, but you have to do more than that." Kazuha's hands run through your hair, and then one settles on the nape of your neck, pulling you to her breast. "Yes! There we go." 

You break your liplock with her nipple as you ask, "already so sensitive? Are you sure you can handle me?" 

"Ye—Ah~!" you cut her off by taking a light nibble at her pink nipple.

You roughly caress her other breast and pinch the other nipple. The sensation overwhelms her as she lets out a series of low moans.

"Tell me what I want to hear, and I'll continue, baby girl."

"No!" 

You take your free hand and run it back down over her tight stomach, stopping right above her soaked panties. Just the tips of your fingers dig under the lace garment's hem.

"Say it."

"No!"

"Say it, baby girl, I know you want to. Say it, and I'll make you feel better than you ever have."

"No… No, No, I can't. I won't..." You continue to lap at her nipple and pull with your lips. Your other hand rubs the edge of her underwear, feeling her wetness soak through. "You want me to touch you, to feel your wet pussy and make you feel good? Say what I want to hear and beg me for it."

"Please just do it!" You run your fingers right on the edge of her panties, either side of her swollen nub. She pushes her crotch side-to-side, trying to plant her clit on your fingers. The attempt is made in vain as you move your fingers away, increasing her desperation to be touched. 

"One magic word. Say it." 

"Da—Daddy, please touch me, touch me everywhere. Put your fingers in me. Put your cock in me. Fuck me. Your baby girl needs it.” Finally. Broken—they never last long—though she did put up an impressive fight. 

"That's my good girl...." You inject your finger into Kazuha's wanting pussy, sliding in and out, feeling her warmth and slickness. Temporarily detaching from her breasts, you look at her pretty face—twisted in lusting agony. 

You kiss her roughly and slide your tongue into her mouth. In a daring expedition of her mouth, you enjoy the sweet taste. Similar to your battle of wills, she attempts to fight tongue-to-tongue, but you force her to concede. To relieve her for just a moment, you pull out the single finger from her warm hole, hovering by the entrance. The second assault begins, this time with a double finger approach. She bites down on both your tongue and her own. Inaudible sounds of pleasure cause vibrations in your mouth as she moans into it. 

Your pursuit of her sweet lips continues as you stroke one hand on her silky hair."Do you want Daddy to taste you now? You're all ripe from my touch, and you're soaking wet. I wonder how tasty your juices are, baby girl. Just ask for it—tell me what you want."

"Daddy, please taste—Ah~!—me, I promise—Ah~!—my sweet juices will satisfy—Ah~!—you," she pleads through sharp, high-pitched moans as you dig deeper into her. 

"Not good enough. Beg." 

"Please, please, please, Daddy. Please eat my wet pussy. I need you now, please, Daddy." Kazuha forces the words out through gritted teeth, holding back her pleasure.

To change positions, you utilise your strength to push Kazuha down on her back and grab her legs. You lower yourself to close her glistening pussy; this causes her to beg for your touch, "mhmm~… Daddy, please!"

You pull at the opening in her suit, forcing it further open. She slides her arms out of the sleeves to create enough slack for you to pull the gap down to her thighs. With no way to easily remove them, you hook the fingers of both your hands into her lace panties and pull them apart with a loud rip. "Wha!—Oh my God, Daddy, you don't waste time. Please eat me, eat me like your favourite meal. Please, Daddy!"

She tastes exquisite. Her addicting liquid fills your mouth and all around it. You slurp and probe your tongue everywhere, covering every inch and hitting her clit several times. You use one hand roughly to stroke her amazingly toned legs and thighs and the other to palm at her breast. Shockwaves of pleasure spike through Kazuha's body, and her eyes roll back because you hit all the sensitive spots in her pussy.

The robust and defiant character you met has lost all of her resilience at your touch. Kazuha is reduced to nothing but a squirming mess under the spell of your tongue. Her arms flail against the wooden floor in a desperate search for something—anything—to grab hold of. Her hands eventually find the back of your head, and then they bury themselves into your hair, her nails scratching lightly at your scalp. 

She throws back her head to the floor in pure bliss. A constant stream of moans escapes her mouth as she forces out a few words amid her pleasure. "Yes… Daddy~ There~! Again! Up! Yes! Please right there!"

You keep up your relentless licking, diving deeper and deeper into her wet folds. "Daddy… I'm going… Going to… Yes!" 

"Give it to me, baby girl, let it all out, let all your juices out for me to taste. All the tension, the pent up anger, your brutal training, let it all out now."

You hook two fingers deep into her folds, then navigate your way to the rough patch inside her, applying immense pressure to her sweet spot. Her clit is the target for our tongue, and you focus on creating a rapid rhythmic pace. Kazuha loses her mind; the pleasure inside her becomes too much. "That’s it! I’m gonn—" Her words are now replaced by unintelligible syllables right before she hits her peak. Her nails dig deeper into your skull. Her toned thighs shake violently beside your head, closing together to keep your mouth buried in her wet folds.

She gushes a flood of her slick, wet pussy juices. The force doesn't stop you from deftly soaking it into your tongue and mouth, lapping up every drop. She shivers and tries to get her thoughts back as just your tongue alone caused her to blackout for a moment.

Having already licked her clean, you reposition. Again you meet face-to-face, but you approach with softer eyes this time. "The things they do to people like you...it's too much. It’s wrong." You caress her face tenderly. "To turn vulnerable people into human weapons… you don't have to live this life, Kazuha."

"You think... you... know me?" she replies through heavy breaths.

You know how much more valued she could be to you than some heartless corporation. "I know you don't want to live this way, and you can do much better than working for them."

"I thought you had me figured out, but I guess not." She smirks, letting out a little laugh at your shock. "You still think I work for them?"

You look at her eyes calculatingly. "Then why are you here?"

"I guess you could say I'm a fan and not just of the work you did now." Kazuha returns your previous show of affection, stroking your cheek softly before continuing, "the truth is—I do exactly what you do." 

"Are you..." 

"Milan. Last year?" The smirk you had grown familiar with returned to her face again.

"That was you that saved me in Milan? And after that, have you been following me ever since?”

"Every step. I was always one behind. Istanbul. Cape Town. Jakarta. Tokyo. Even back home in Seoul." With each city she names, she moves her face closer to yours until she is so close that her breath touches your lips. "But now I couldn't be closer. There's one last step to take."

“If you followed me so far and aren’t some corporate shill, you know I don’t enjoy hurting people from the company. I just want the corruption to stop."

"Of course, Daddy doesn't really want to hurt anyone, does he?" She runs her slim forefinger down your neck to the centre of your chest. Kazuha stops and pokes her fingernail into you. "Unless they ask for it." She pushes you back with her finger. You accept her guidance and lie on your back. She stands, then pulls off the rest of her outfit, her naked body over you. "And right now, I'm asking, Daddy."

Kazuha’s slim figure is a work of art. Your body overheats with sexual desire. However, your heart yearns for someone who understands you. Maybe this is precisely what you need. Not only right now, but you could use a partner in the future. In your crusade to take down the powerful corrupt, maybe you didn't have to be alone anymore. "You're...you are beautiful Kazuha." She looks stunned for a moment at the sincerity of your words.

She falls to her knees, right over you, and takes hold of your face. "You mean it, don't you?" A look of enlightenment overcomes her face, probably a reflection of your own expression.

"I do." 

"I was right. There's more to you than some cold revenge." Kazuha places her hand on the left side of your chest. "Your passion drives you. It's so attractive to see a man who follows his heart. What does your heart tell you to do right now?"

"I want you Kazuha. Join me on my journey.” Your weakness surfaces for a brief moment, and your hard exterior crumbled—a dangerous game to play with a girl you just met.

“I want you too, we can be together, but right now, I need you inside me, Daddy.”

You kiss her deeply, with desire, but with something purer too. Something you have not felt in a long time. You hold her head and pull her deeper into your lips, never wanting her to escape from your arms. She grinds on you and unzips your zipper to dig out your cock. You take the opportunity to reassert your dominance. "Ride me, baby girl. If you want to come with me, you’ve got to cum for me."

With your cock finally free from its restraints, it craves the soft touch of Kazuha. A sensation she happily provides. She grinds her wet folds along the underside of your cock, covering it in her warm juices. 

"How does it feel? Do you think you can take it?" you ask.

"Fuck, it's so big, but I can take it all. I'll take it all for you, Daddy. I'm a good girl for you."

She lifts up and then slowly sinks onto your raging cock. Both of you groan, and your eyes roll back at the pleasure—a moment of pure lust and passion. Two damaged people scarred from the horrors of battle finally unify their bodies and souls in a blissful release.

Kazuha was undoubtedly the tightest, warmest pussy you've had. You clutch your hands to hers and interlock your fingers as she starts to move up and down.

"You know ... I spent so ... much time training ... that I never ... did this before." She says between her sharp breaths. "You're doing so fucking good. Keep going. Take it deeper." She trembles at your instruction as she sinks deeper than before, all the way to the hilt. A shrill moan escapes her lips as you fill her up. Kazuha's tight pussy moulding to the shape of your cock, hugging it tightly. 

"Your cock is so good...shit...Daddy.." 

"That’s it, baby girl. Show me just how talented you are. Fucking ride me and make this cock yours."

Spurred by your commands, she picks up her pace. Her face contorts as she increases her effort, bouncing her body faster than before. "I... will... make... it... mine...Daddy." Her pants have become so quick that only a single word can escape between them. Her toned thighs and flawless ass hit against your crotch with a light slap every time she drops her body onto you. You reach out to palm her bouncing breasts and give them squeezes as she rides you. 

"Fuck… your cock… so big… I’m so full."

Her rhythm falters, and her pace decreases. You take hold of one of her wide hips—moving your hand from her breast—fingers reaching around to her soft ass and your thumb on her waistline. "Don't give up now. You need to please Daddy remember?" With a hold on her hips, you thrust up into her relentlessly, forcing her to match your pace. You pump up into her wet pussy with relentless force.

“OH FUCK! Daddy! Faster, yes! I—just make me yours. Use me. Fuck me. Just don't stop fucking me."

You sit up to gain more leverage. Kazuha's body falls against yours, her breasts against your chest and her head into your neck. Her hands claw wildly at your back, scratching you as she attempts to hold on for the wild ride she's taking. You push your cock up into her as fast as you can. She desperately tries to keep up with your pace, but she loses control of all her senses. "Daddy wants his baby girl to look at him when she cums. Look at me."

"Shit… Daddy..." Kazuha barely manages to look you in the eyes as she clings to your cock for dear life. You take a hand to her neck—finger and thumb on her jaw—to keep her face in front of your own. "I'm about to...." 

"Do it, baby girl. Cum for me."

"FUCK! AHH—!" Her words become nothing but a screech as her orgasm takes control of her body. Desperately she tries to face you, her sweaty forehead against your own, but there's nothing other than pleasure in her eyes—they roll back, out of her control. Her fingers dig into your back. Her toned legs press against your hips—Kazuha's entire body trembles.

Her juices ooze over your cock, and she collapses on you. You kiss her neck gently. 

You whisper to her ear, "by my count, you've cummed twice now, and I haven't at all. Daddy is disappointed."

She doesn't respond for a moment as she takes deep breaths. "Fill me up Daddy. You deserve to cum inside your baby girl. I'm so sensitive, but I'll take it for you." 

You lower her to her back before sliding your still hard cock into her dripping pussy. The juices filling her pussy coat your cock as it enters—your cock slides into her tight hole. You pump steadily at first, then quickly pick up the pace. Kazuha wraps her arms and legs around your body.

You take hold of her thighs, pushing her legs against her body, her knees into her chest. You place each of her knees on your shoulders. Your cock can slide deeper than ever into her pussy, the new position pushing her walls together, creating an even tighter hole to fuck.

You quickly pick up more pace inside her, the remnants of her last orgasm providing excellent lubricant. "Fuck! Daddy, you're going so fast! My sensitive pussy feels so good!"

Overcome with desire; you stop holding anything back. "Take it, baby. You’re mine now." Ramming into Kazuha's pussy, you repeatedly slam, reaching the deepest parts of her pussy. Empowered by your desire to cum inside her, you pierce through her tightness. Loud echoes chime, and the sound of her grunts and moans only encourage you to go faster and harder. Every inch of your cock feeling her chambers.

"Give it to me! Go on!" Kazuha's entire body submits to you; her arms cling to you helplessly, and her legs open as wide as possible. Her ravaged pussy is ready for your cum. 

"I'm close, baby girl." 

"Don't tell me, just fucking fill me."

"One last time, baby girl, beg for it, beg me for my cum, and I'll blast everything I have into you."

"Go on, Daddy, give me everything!" The desire to cum reaches an all-time high. You stop holding back the inevitable. Just a few more fast pumps into her sensitive hole push you—and Kazuha—over the edge. In perfect sync, you both lose control and give in to your primal instinct. From the tip of your cock erupts a stream of cum deep inside her. "Yes! I feel it! Fill me!"

A seemingly endless stream fills her, quickly overflowing and dropping out of her sensitive hole. "Take it all, all of it, baby girl." One last grunt, one last load of your cum fills her, and you collapse on her, kissing her lips gently. Your spent cock still buried inside her isn’t enough to stop the combination of cum from dripping out between her thighs. Both of you are huffing, trying to catch your breath. "I—will you come with me, Kazuha?"

"Of course, but I want one promise, Daddy. Every time we take them down, everywhere we go, you fill me up just like that."

You just smile, finally a release for all the stress you built in your pursuit of taking down the group you only knew as The Company.

Off in the distance, a mysterious figure pulls out a phone. 

"It seems your hunch was right, Taeyeon… Kazuha has been betraying us for a while now….” 

"Nakamura Kazuha—the betrayer—such a shame. She had the potential to be someone great here. That's enough for now. Return and finish your report back at base. I shall send you on another mission soon, Winter." 

A/N (2): Thank you for reading our fic. And thank you all in advance if you decide to interact with this post.

[moonrazeeclipse]

Laundry Day

Oh My Girl Arin x Male Reader

categories: smut, anal, daddy kink, quickie

1187 words

unedited quickie cause Arin in jeans make brain mush

A dryer cycle could last a long time. Even on the highest setting, an hour always wasn’t enough, especially when a large load of clothes required additional time. And what better way to pass the time than to be balls deep inside Arin’s plump, round ass.

It was convenience at its best—Arin no longer had any clean clothes left, so while she shoved her washed clothes in the dryer, you shoved your throbbing cock up her tiny little asshole. 

The laundry room was now a waiting room, and the warm, comforting heat of the dryer against Arin’s naked, bent over body was equal to the heat from her asshole being pounded. 

“Fuck, daddy! That cock drives me crazy. It’s so, so fucking good, I think i might cum again!” 

Wet clothes in the dryer were the only clean thing in the entire room. Now, the once spotless floor was stained with Arin’s juices that had gushed onto the marble tiles after multiple rounds of squirting. 

Twenty minutes was a long time to wait, but time felt endless while you savored every thrust inside Arin’s heavenly ass, and kept your hands on her wide hips, watching the sweat drip down her perfectly arched back. The thud of the dryer smacking against the wall couldn’t compare to the smack of Arin’s soft cheeks being railed. 

“You know if you had less clothes, we could do this more often,” you said, and gave a series of spanks against her squishy buttcheeks, earning loud gasps for your efforts. 

“Th-that’s a good point, daddy—ahh, fuck! If I just got rid of all my clothes, then you could ram my ass like this every single day!” 

“Let’s not get carried away, babygirl. You still need clothes to go out in public.” 

“Okay fine, good point. But as soon as I get home, I’m all yours. You can eat my ass every night, daddy. Good girls deserve that, don’t they?” 

“Of course, baby.” 

It wasn’t like you didn’t already eat Arin’s cute little butt at every moment, the tastiest meal to be devoured. Even before you were sliding in between her cheeks, you buried your tongue in her asshole, and spread her cheeks wide as possible while the dryer started up. And even before that, her delicious creamy thighs wrapped around your face while you waited for her clothes to be washed, spending the entire wash cycle making her cum on your face repeatedly. 

It wasn’t Arin’s fault she was insatiable, completely starved, and addicted to your cock. If you had the option, you’d forgo all responsibilities in life and just spend the entire day emptying your balls inside her holes, and just covering her body from head to toe in your thick loads. 

“Ten minutes left, daddy. I don’t think you’re fucking me hard enough. I want you to be so rough you’ll have to carry me out of here. Pound me until I can’t feel my legs anymore, daddy.” 

Arin’s request wouldn’t fall on deaf ears. It was an obligation that wouldn’t go unfilled, and you pulled back on her tight body until she could only grab the edge of the warm dryer. You matched the rhythm of its creaks, and slammed into Arin’s tight backside, groaning at the impossible tightness of it and picked up the pace. Her cheeks rippled beautifully, squeezing your cock harshly, like she was already trying to milk out another load. 

“Gonna ruin you, baby. I’ll make sure you can’t walk for the next week.” In response, Arin’s snug asshole tightened around you, as you kissed behind her ear, and licked sweat from her neck. 

“That’s what I like to hear, daddy. Destroy my asshole.” 

You’d do exactly that. Not even giving Arin the freedom to grab anything, you pulled her away from the dryer, and hooked her arms behind her, handcuffing them out of access. While one hand secured her dainty wrists away from her, your other reached around, squeezed one of her perky breasts, then wrapped around her warm neck, clamping down. Arin almost came again. 

“Oh f-fuck! Choke me, daddy! Wrap your strong hands around my neck and don’t let go, please, daddy!” 

Arin’s words were just lifeless syllables at this point. You didn’t care what words left her lips, and just focused on giving her ass the roughest thrusts your hips could maintain. 

“What are you, babygirl?” you growled and tightened your grip around her sensitive neck. Arin continued squeezing your cock, the constant twitches she provoked sent you into a frenzy, like a wild beast that couldn’t be tamed. 

“I’m daddy’s little cumdump.” 

“Yes, you are. Good girl.” 

Five minutes left, but you wouldn’t make it that long. Arin was just an idle participant now, her body given up for you to use, and the vigorous pumps in between her cheeks smacked harder than any sound in the room. The lustful moans from her lips kept you going, and kept you pounding her ass without any concern but your own greedy pleasure, as you pounded Arin’s ass like you never had before. 

“I love it—I love when your huge thick cock stretches my gaping little hole. I can feel you throbbing so much. Please, daddy, please fill me. I need your cum dripping out of me!” 

Arin wouldn’t have to beg much longer. Not when you were absolutely drilling her ass, hypnotized by the rippling cheeks that were sore and reddened from your harsh spanks. It wouldn’t exactly be a neck and neck race as the dryer began its cooldown cycle, but you did the opposite, and went as fast as your body would allow. 

If you didn’t keep Arin upright, she wouldn’t be able to keep still, or control her trembling thighs after each concurrent orgasm. You’d need more than just a mop to clean up the floor after this. 

The noisy dryer winded down, which only made it more satisfying to listen to the moans that escaped Arin’s lips alongside the smack of flesh that drowned out the loud spins and tumbles of clean clothes. There was no point in prolonging the inevitable. 

The constant screams of pleasure and daddy rolling off Arin’s tongue were just what you needed as you held her close, with one more round of harsh thrusts until you reached your limits and exploded inside her. Thick cum flooded her insides, her asshole flooded with warm semen to the very brim, milking each spurt from you, and yet desperate for more. The tight squeeze of her ruined hole never ended, not until you departed your cock from her body, as you watched your load slowly drip out of her gaping asshole.

“Thank you, daddy,” Arin said, with ragged breaths. She spun around, then lowered herself to clean off your cock, licking it clean and savoring the delicious taste of her ass. “We should do laundry more often…” 

Right after she spoke, the dryer buzzed, signaling its completion. But Arin didn’t bother checking them. “Oh, no! Looks like they’re still wet. How about it? One more time? I can still feel my legs, daddy."