ov105

[ov105]

Working Hour

A bit of a rough, both prose and style-wise, fic for my NMIXX bias, Haewon. Finally! (It's mild, I promise) I might need to rest just a short bit before getting back on starting longer manuscripts. A shorter, but quicker, piece is the result.

3,552 words of Oh Haewon. Enjoy!

알바. Arba. Part-time work. A few extra thousand won. Mixing it with copious amounts of bowing and greeting, and then juggling that with reading at least a page or two during quieter times. Between rarely pressed uniforms and having to put on my best customer service attitude from morning till way past sundown, there was at least the relief of having a few coworkers around. Being a 24-hour chain, that realistically meant keeping time like a tower sentry. But this was not Itaewon or Gangnam. Where I was in the metro, I could say the sign beside the door could be considered false advertising, as it wasn’t terribly busy past 11pm. There was a short time between two and four thirty in the morning when the cafe needed to be closed. 

Being no bigger than a counter and a handful of seats meant a lot of time for Haewon and me to spare when nobody came in. Even summer evenings were warm, a bit too warm. That led to an overcorrection on our end that left the A/C turned on a bit too cold. Our last customer for the day had just left before our closing time. I don’t think he had turned the corner yet when I flipped the sign, and as I made the short walk to collect the tray, I threw their half-empty cup in the trash. Just a bit of inflation and still wasting coffee, aren’t we? I just took a swig from my bottle and got on my phone. Doing the inventory before leaving ought not to take too long. 

However, Haewon had other plans.

The last time I saw her was when she was entering the kitchen. By now, she was peeking from the service window at the periphery of my vision. Sliding the window open, she beckoned with her hand and a single command.

“Hey, come here.”

I stood up and followed inside. Haewon's been beckoning for this little opportunity all day. That girl always looks at me that way when she wants something, and while there was nothing to make a fuss about, I don't see the point in denying her that chance. The moment the door lock clicked, just when the smell of a newly-mopped room hit me, she had her hands on my shoulders. I reached for the light and put my lips on hers. Though in the dimly lit room, it was more of the opposite, her neck almost shooting upward as what few pecks I gave she replaced with her tongue. Slowly, I marched us forward to the widest area in the room, right next to the microwave. Facing her to the wall, it only took a quick shift of her eyes before we continued. Groping at her body, I squeezed her tits through her shirt, and with my ass on her hands, she moved her hips forward and grinded on mine.

This is the first time we have done this—at work, at least. Haewon made her move a few months ago, we missed the train, and somehow ended up in a motel. We've repeated it several times since, just letting out pure lust, an unadulterated, carnal manner to welcome ourselves into our twenties. I must have liked the image of the messied-up, fashionable, pale girl my age, in such a state out of my own doing, over a wrinkled, half-wet mattress. Our Kakao reflected it, from the shared conversations, to the occasional see once photo. We've only been workmates for a year, and nobody else has spilled from me as much as Haewon has. Now, we're just enjoying that little lull, though it did take this long to finally make her wish of being fucked at work come true. 

Haewon was a vocal girl. I had to find that out the hard way in our first encounters, always ending with my fingers over her mouth. I considered maybe not this time. Everything she did had a rhythm to it, the way her smooches at me were timed, her fingers and palm carefully running over my back, while her hips kept slowly rolling. Sliding a hand inside her shirt, I was stopped only because she wanted to remove her bra. Raising her arms up, I was able to unhook it for her, the black undergarment coming off only about a minute after we continued making out, the kissing quickly turning into smooching.

Moving down to her neck, I was about to begin stooping my legs when Haewon stopped me. Always one to let me have a lick of the fun before having hers. 

"You can always do that." 

Haewon then gave me a peck before she kneeled down, undoing my pants as soon as her knees touched the ground, hurriedly pulling everything down as my belt unbuckled. My cock, half-erect from anticipation, sprang free and right into her fingers, gripping them with a certain, needy glance up towards me. No permissions were uttered as a curt, toothless smile gave way to her tongue sticking out and licking at the tip. Wrapping her lips over my cock, her eyes remained fixed on me as she spun her tongue and put it under my cock, then slowly craned her neck forward. Hitting the back of her mouth, she slightly gagged, the small space contracting against my cock, evidently trying not to get ahead of herself.

Pulling back a bit, Haewon stopped midway on my shaft. Beginning to bob her head, tongue firmly under my cock, head tilting sideways as her long, dark hair moved along with her. I told her before that I preferred her only use her tongue, with her other hand between her legs, rubbing herself while opening her mouth at times to show her tongue sliding over my cock before bobbing her head. My breath shook, and I knew she had learned. She was expressive, even with my shaft plugging her lips, slobbering while a hand cupped my balls. Yet the few times I looked down, her meeting stare told me everything. Though in time, through herself kneeling with my cock in her mouth, she was able to make me forget that we were not supposed to be doing this. Yet, the same thrill made me hard a little too easily. 

“O-okay, that’s enough,” I was able to blurt out. I didn’t plan to waste holding myself off to finish this quickly.

Haewon let my cock go with a pop. Wiping her lips as they hung open to not let her spit drip down. I slid her hair back a little just as she stood up. 

“You got something for me?” she asked. 

I turned around and lifted a box of newly-arrived beans to draw a small packet; a condom. All that for less of a mess, I thought as I turned around. About to tear it open myself, Haewon grabbed and did it faster, blowing at the thin plastic before kneeling again. The few times we’ve done it before, she would simply wrap it around my cock using her fingers. It was different this time, lightly biting down on it then using her lips, slowly, to roll it down its length, sucking as she pulled back to seal it on my cock. All set. 

Haewon then rose, skillfully pulling her own pants down as she stood up. Turning around and bending herself over the small counter table, her head looking at me as I positioned myself behind her, mere inches from her pussy, our breathing smelled like anticipation. Sliding my cock between her folds, she bit her lips, as her warmth became felt on my tip. I chuckled, trying to hide that I was breathing in. Here we go. Placing both my hands on her hips, I pushed in. That initial pop of the first penetration, going as deep as my hips would go into her waiting flesh. Haewon moaned—loudly—sounding relieved at my expense, trying to keep herself quiet, all while I let out a shy huff. Bending over a bit, I began to thrust, though I might have slipped out a moan as she giggled under me. 

“Missed me?”

I replied. Yes, of course I did. A girl as tight and beautiful as Haewon would make me act like a crazed teenager. Those words did push me, my hips almost moving on their own and making my thrusts pronounced and deep. Responding in kind, she tried to keep herself quiet even if all the doors were locked. I just told her to moan as much and as loud as she would like, I was railing her after all. Her build was sturdy enough to keep her steady, though I knew this was her favorite position to take me in. Both our knees bent a bit, but shaking as mine hit against hers, soft thighs and ass giving the perfect cushion. I thought I would give it one, smack! 

A sharp moan left Haewon, turning her face left to kiss mine. Though the longer she kissed, I slowed down, bending down further and placing my hands beside hers on the counter. She put her fingers on top of mine and began talking to me. This was one of the longest times we hadn’t fucked, and that kind of had her nervous, though now, in a break from convention, she wanted me to slow down. She wanted to feel the moment. In the same boat, I told her we could do this as long as she’d like, given how I closed the café on time just for us. Though she did give me a reminder to keep me in check.

“You’re gonna have to go a little faster.”

How sly. Sliding my hand to her tits, I squeezed and toyed with her nipples using my fingers. Haewon placed a hand where that was, and running out of words, continued where we were earlier. I ramped my pace up, fighting myself from losing momentum in her tight spaces, made easier now that she was much wetter. Finding her spot, she shuddered a bit, trying to right herself as her back arched. Taking my hand off the counter, I embraced her and went deeper, moaning even as our lips were together. It was muffled, suppressed, yet with her tongue still tussling with mine, waiting. Just a little harder, then. She became much less composed, more twitchy now, then there it was, the slight sound of her wet pussy, making itself more known with each thrust. Breaking her lips away to hear the sound of her coming undone. Grabbing at my left hand, she slammed our hands onto the counter, her right hand holding on to a higher shelf as my rhythm was intent on being true to her words. Piak, piak, piak. That sound cut through her song, and she still tried to bite her lip, whimper, only to moan again. Turning to me, she said.

“F-fuck,” as Haewon’s pussy suddenly squeezed my cock. I bit my lip. Before, with her blinking slowed, she muttered, “harder.”

I squatted a little lower, and in a quick glance, I saw a little wet spot on the floor. It was getting harder to thrust, needing more force as I gave what Haewon wanted. She let me go by now, holding on entirely to the shelf as I tried not to keel over with my legs bent. I felt a slight burning coming along while I continued to plough into her, and eventually, I was knocking at the inevitable. I kept myself at bay by just trying my damnedest to relax; Yet why would you relax while fucking? My cock twitched as it struck inside. Grabbing onto her tit, I sprang myself inward, the tight, velvety embrace of her walls, while her mouth goaded me to try and make me lose composure, and beckoned by her own words. She turned to look at me, almost breathy, in a tone of resignation to her own pleasure.

“Keep…fucking…going.”

I barely had enough time to wipe my forehead, already gritting my teeth, before Haewon cried out and bowed her head. Usually, she would say something, but not this time. Freezing up under me, she groaned and moaned while she let herself go. Her walls squeezed around my shaft, with her walls feeling like waves as pleasure washed over her. Her knuckles were turning white against the wood as she tried to not slump forward. I know she will, so I bucked my hips, making her cry out. She never wanted me to stop, just slow down. Her expression would always have her eyes shut, mouth hung open, as I fucked her through orgasm, her entire body moving with my deep thrusts. By the time she finished, I was slowly moving my hips. She had no words to say as she met my gaze again and kissed me in return.  

“I think I have to take this off now.”

So Haewon did, throwing her shirt on top of the microwave. Only her pants, down past her knees, remained. But I wasn’t finished with her, straightening my back and ramping up my pace quickly. One smack on her ass made her moan, and I echoed her as my rapid, shallow thrusts only made sure I reached into her depths, her tightness and slipperiness a welcome, almost overwhelming sensation. I could not understand or rationalize why, but I knew I could. I gave her ass another smack, not minding her moaning, squelching, or the recoil of her body. I only stopped when I realized I was hitting her so much that her left asscheek had turned red, her right cheek untouched, while my fingers were digging into her hip. 

“Oops,” I said, realizing. 

Haewon taunted me, “I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Me neither,” I replied at my most honest.

Just then, Haewon beckoned me to come close. In a repetition of earlier, I followed, though the difference was that her left arm was now around my neck. I can’t just pull back this time, leaving me deep. Letting her recoil from my thrust, I then decided to thrust as fast as I could. Piak! The sound of our bodies caught up with her chorus quickly. With my left hand just below her throat, Haewon let go of her right hand and pushed mine up to her neck. She then shot her free arm onto the shelf, pretty much transferring the motion of my deep railing onto it, lightly creaking as I speared into her. From what little I could peek, she was for another orgasm to come between us. 

Then, Haewon let me go, her body almost straight as I continued. Not stopping, she turned to look at me. Though I could barely spit or think of a reply as she talked to me, it was much a repeat of earlier. I knew she was talking, but I couldn’t remember my words, perhaps a token reply or two. I knew she looked blurry, recoiling like a swing from under me. All I could hear and feel was her, choking me again. Shoveling whatever force I could, I kept going. Though as I was about to throttle myself back, the exact switch from slow, shallow thrusts to deep, slow ones triggered that second orgasm. Though this time around, while her tightness and loud moans, each one pronounced, kept beckoning me to follow her, she kept her gaze locked on me, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth hung open. That did not help. Her legs were almost jelly at this rate, needing more of my arms to help her up. This time, I needed to pull out, after giving her a kiss, or else I would have cum from just the slightest movement. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Haewon teased, feeling my twitching cock behind her.

I nodded, catching my breath, “I just missed you.”

It was rather unexpected that “missing her” meant doing Haewon in the workplace. Typically, the place where I had her bent over was the kitchen, and storage was now functioning as a bedroom. Yet I didn’t doubt that we would continue this at either one of our dorms. Through making out while being fucked, I almost forgot that I was about to tire myself out. On worse days, we would both be lightly sweating, only really getting a chance to wipe out behind the door. Though now, I ran my palm across my forehead for a very different reason, that same hand landing on Haewon, her back arched, as she bounced against me. That motion slightly rocked whatever surface her hands held on to. 

However long it took, through several changes of grips, exchange of lips, and close calls. Haewon came just one more time. After which, I slowly ground to a halt, with a few grunts from me as we were both panting. Now, my perception of time was not as easily distorted as hers, though maybe, it had just been long enough for my thighs to begin aching. I told her to wait as I tried to scrape up my stamina. 

"That's enough for now," Haewon replied.  

"Don't you want it inside?" I asked.

"What are you gonna do after this?" she asked. A left-field question, but wait, "Don't you want to continue at my place?"

Not leaving opportunities untaken—I gave in—Haewon knew that would bend my knee. Though now it was her turn to kneel, hands wrapped around my shaft, her tongue stuck out. She won't suck me off with a condom on, right? Licking along its length, tasting herself off the latex, she then grabbed it with a finger after wrapping it with her lips. Tossing it to the can, Haewon faced me again. As if her assurances weren't enough, she said while readying herself. 

"You're too kind to me," she continued, "and you can cum inside later if you like."

Take two. Gazing onward, Haewon licked my length that sent a shiver up my spine, physically seizing up, the electric feeling from below rendering barely any grip as my fingers lay on her hair. The sudden sensation of a warm tongue almost making me cum instantly as she made a second pass made her laugh. So much so that a little, unconscious twitch scared me, and she knew she was the cause of it. I was just too sensitive. Slowly, she began to stroke me, then wrapped her lips around my head, keeping it there and circling it with her tongue. Finally, my cock was wet again. 

Placing her tongue under my shaft, she bobbed. Stopping halfway before continuing, making the most of her moment. Strangely, for all her playfulness, she was not one for delaying. Placing a hand on my balls, she softly fondled them while her mouth, a favorite, took care of the rest. Even when my cock, at its hardest, twitched in her mouth, she hollowed her cheeks just to twist the knife. Knowing I loved the way my cock met her lips, sometimes teasing me, sliding only that over the tip, now having turned smooth and light pink—a rare kind of lipstick—from all her stimulation. Before a last run on a more relaxed, yet still slobbering pace, while careful not to make a mess.

Just as I was feeling my precum beginning to leak, Haewon released my cock with a pop. Giving it a peck as she stroked, nesting it on her tongue as I could feel myself getting past my limit, already twitching. She could anticipate it better than I do. I had let myself go when she gave me one last wink, and after a lengthy, pressed flick of her tongue, her mouth was wide open as a thick shot of cum painted her palate. At its hardest, I felt my cock go numb from cumming, all while she closed her lips around it after the third, the following shots became more runny than the last. I groaned as she guzzled down the pent-up load while gently moving her head, side-to-side, making sure it was all hers. Nobody else could’ve done better. I fought the temptation to push into her mouth for those few seconds. For a moment, she almost struggled, slightly gagging at how much there was to take in.

Yet when she let go of my cock, now limp, Haewon opened her mouth. I could barely make out the pink of her tongue, and a whole sea of thick, white cum, greeted me. True to her ideals, there was not a drop outside of her mouth. She then closed her mouth, raised her chin, and swallowed. What a showgirl. 

Standing up, save for her being topless, with somewhat messy hair, and my pants on my ankles, Haewon wiped her lips and gave me another smooch. That was how she’d often say thank you. Placing her arms around me, not minding we were half-naked, she smiled when asking.

“My place?”

“Your place.”

No words followed, save for a peck. Only the sound of us dressing up again and grabbing our things, two bags for two people. We had already stayed past our usual closing time. The cafe door rang, and after typing and locking the keypad. Placing the keycard in my bag, my eyes glanced at the digital watch on the counter: 2:25am. 

[ov105]

You forgot tripleS Yooyeon is an '01 liner :((

Holy shit.

I have committed a capital offense.

I am now on a prison bus as we speak.

[ov105]

Every year kpop debut so many pretty,hot and majestic girls and women. but if you have to choose, what year do you think have the best cast of women you likes? For me its got to be 2003 with Yujin, Kazuha, Yuna and so many more

My birth year (and following year) will always be the strongest. 2001 and 2002 represent baby! Whoever was in charge of creation didn't miss in those years.

[ov105]

I'm so sorry Dahyun, I was unfamiliar with your game. Naky is great, but damn, SoDa...

[ov105]

Finally got the Viet seal of approval hahaha, thanks!

Here's another pic of Huế Citadel. Nien didn't make her move here for nothing hehe

Pineapple Cake

In what is more of a love letter to Vietnam than a straight-up smut, we have Nien in the lead. First time I tried adding an IRL picture to at least help myself a bit. I'm not gonna lie, I was missing the city more writing the first half, that's why it took so long. All vibes for this one.

We're going to another city next!

7,672 words of Nien. Enjoy!

Rain in Southeast Asia is nothing to scoff at. Particularly not when you’re informed to prepare to move for a company branch during said rainy season, worse, in short, a three-week notice. It brings an altogether sigh and a cold drink together, after which I would grab and wipe down my luggages and throw them open about two days before departing. It’s always an adventure, sure, and I look forward to the new person I will come out of the place. But it works altogether. However, I noticed another addition in the email order I received.

“Do not pass immigration until she has transferred from her Taipei flight. You must pass it together.” 

Her? They typically do not say names, as HR doesn’t know or care who. I also understood it was not to stir a raised eyebrow from the immigration officer. But yes, the pronoun made my head tilt. Having had a “his” to partner me during the few work trips, and often than not, I just kept it professional. It is usually someone with a better-ish grasp of the local language than I. However, I almost always grab the free two-week language program, which is a good excuse to do other things during company time. It makes the white lie of “easily learns new languages” in my resumé seem worthwhile.

I wasn’t so glum about it. I was looking forward to it even, despite some naughty suggestions from my colleagues, I was firm that it was just another work deployment. Though I cannot deny myself the power of my imagination. I was young and single, so the idea never really left me. The idea made me ponder once or twice in the weeks leading up to the day, all while having no real imagination of who I had to live with for the next few months, except that it was a she. Given that it was Da Nang I was to leave for, there was quite a bit on my mind, though I doubt the adjustment wouldn’t be too hard. I’ve done this before, so it can’t be that different, can it? 

In the meantime, I did what I could to get a clearer image of the place I would call home for a bit. I thought I had to grab a motorcycle if I wanted to go around on the weekends. However, I don't consider myself to be the most adventurous of people, but in a new country, I don't mind. I looked forward to sitting on a stool and eating whatever I picked; the good excuse of "I can jog this out tomorrow" always worked like a charm, and being used to greens helped.

Though that was all I did for the past three weeks. Now I'm a bit early at the airport, waiting outside a cafe, a large suitcase on one end, an empty plate and almost-finished mug on the table, and waiting on an empty chair while double-checking whether the documents I had were correct. Though I was just watching something on my phone when I got the message that she had arrived. Let's see if I was lucky, but now I just need to be professional. It did not take long before a tall lady, quite serious, searching, about five-foot-six, could tell from a glance she was Taiwanese, probably because she wasn't so pale. I thought maybe that was her. Then she saw me, looked at her phone, and walked towards me. Yep, that's her. 

I stood up to meet her. A firm handshake but a carefree smile. Good impressions all around, she seemed very fun to be around, happy-go-lucky, as said. It was pretty easy to crack the ice, warming up to each other easily, as she had been my counterpart in the Taipei office for some time now. We were now the "traveling circus," since they had shifted from sending uninterested middle-aged executives a while ago. Yet her name was one of the things I asked first, so I have one: Hsu Nien Tzu. 

I remember asking her one thing before standing up: if she could speak the language. I was not about to start a bad demonstration. 

"I'm half-Vietnamese," Nien replied, "we're gonna be fine."

Save for the passing score I got when it came to comprehension, I was glad. Alright, this was going to be better than I had hoped. So we followed another set of orders: pass by immigration, eat, and wait for our flight to leave after sunset. I was constantly reminded that I needed to speak up more to my trip partners, so I decided to keep the conversation as natural as possible. Talking to Nien over dinner gave that, sharing an early phở before we left. It made me wonder why I didn't decide to set out and look for who I was going with on the trip. On trips before, I got my answer at least a week before we departed. Maybe I was too busy, or perhaps some part of me liked that anticipation, the waiting, yet it's not like I exclusively work with men, so what gives? 

Maybe I’ve probably gotten too used to the scheduling. This was also my longest deployment so far, so there was probably more off time between us. I always make it a point not to make it too personal, but I value the companionship I get. 

We passed the time that way, and before long, we were number two for takeoff on a rainy evening. It took a bit of both waiting and a little turbulence, with a loud turbofan roar and water flying by the window as we left the city. I saw it disappear behind the clouds; thick clouds only meant rain, and pretty much another goodbye. I hoped the rain wouldn’t follow us there as the plane settled into its climb, so I whispered it to Nien too; she was already, understandably, half-asleep, and she agreed. We were heading to a coastal city after all, and I knew it would be sooner or later. I just about remembered the slight pull of settling into cruising altitude as I dozed off, unable to put my book back and it on the tray table.

We were being told to put the tray tables up when we woke. I look outside and see spotlights on the water, equally spaced apart. The next thing my eyes saw was a mass of lights in a line, some were moving, but most were static; the unmistakable coastline, and a temporary new life. Our little residence should be across what seems to be the river, a little company present that overlooked the estuary. I could feel Nien was looking over, too. 

“Fishing boats.” I blurted without question. 

“Hm?” Nien sounded off. I asked, letting my thoughts known, “wanna grab something when we land?” 

She just nodded. 

That’s what we did. Getting our bags and getting into a company car took less than fifteen minutes. A junior representative welcomed us and discussed what to expect in our new residence. Trying not to space out and just look out the window, one moment we were at a stoplight with just a bit too many motorcycles, the next, we were on a bridge, a pretty well-lit one at that, glancing to see the many skyscrapers before looking back and trying to read the paper in the dark. We were told to split tasks for tomorrow as we needed to show up by Monday. I agreed that I was the one getting the long license conversion pipeline. 

Unpacking our things, I gave a generous, well, a little too generous, tip to our welcoming party. It was a small third-floor accommodation, with a nice river view as I walked out onto the small balcony, with a row of sellers a few walks to the right. I remembered what I told her two hours ago on the plane. I turned around to see Nien had changed into more comfortable clothes, nothing unusual. She seemed to fit right in, and I did my part by changing into sandals. Our conversation took off where it was at the airport, no work yet, that was tomorrow’s problem, ending our first night with a celebratory beer and two bowls of noodles. I think it was Mì Quảng. 

The next day came as it did, and we started working as the weekend passed. It only took about a week, and adding a few more, coupled with plastic bags of beer, or enjoying the long lunch breaks, to really get on their best graces. Before we knew it, we were almost halfway through our stay. They remarked from the first few days that they liked having someone closer to their age to mess around with. I also did, and having a roommate that the guys liked flirting with was fun to watch. It never crossed my mind to look at her differently, visually or personally—though I did understand why people wanted to flirt with her—perhaps keeping myself down, shifting into the college-age rhetoric of never getting involved with your colleagues. Even if we shared the same room, we had to run errands together sometimes. However, Nien did bring up a throwaway line when we were sharing a drink on the balcony once.

Nien asked, "You mentioned I'm the first girl you went on a visiting trip with?"

I replied, "Yeah, it was always men before that."

"Mine too. So you're my first guy partner." Nien answered, adding, "It's quite relaxing."

"And why's that?"

She replied, "You're not a bother," then paused again.

"If anything, I kind of forget we've been together for like, six weeks now."

I paused too, mid-sip, putting the glass away from my lips and corrected her, "Together in Da Nang, you mean."

Nien chuckled, taking it in stride, "Yeah, together in Da Nang," before taking a swig of her glass, which had already made her fingers cold and wet. She had held on to it for a bit too long. 

We left it at that. A slight brush at the line. It was like that until we got to Huế.

The monsoon season came as I had predicted. Switching out the sticky, humid heat of mainland Southeast Asia for the torrential rain of its archipelagic neighbors. Save for the second morning, when we were able to tour a bit of the citadel and some of the city. We shared mugs of coffee when the heat got too much for us, which, by this point, was the bitterness we'd gotten used to. Now every other coffee will taste diluted. The rest of our week was forecasted to be just a gloomy morning, followed by an afternoon downpour, and evening rain, all in that order. I looked across the river, our cheap local hotel barely had a view over the river and to the citadel. I wondered to myself, "Just getting across that moat would've sucked." 

Our actual reason for being in the older city was far outside the center. A site visit, about an hour or so via a rented motorcycle, amounted to us arriving at a small roadside site. Nien and I were just being toured around and gave pretty faces, maybe interviewing some folks, but all in a day's work; show up, play nice, lead them along, write the report the evening before we get on the bus Saturday morning. We arrived and finished early in the afternoon, which was unexpectedly sunny for that day, both much to our surprise. Changing into more comfortable, warm-weather clothes, we thought the same thing—there was enough time to kill. 

It was a fine tour of the citadel, again this time with less time to beat, for ourselves. Perhaps the aspect of sightseeing while breaking a bit of a sweat endeared itself to Nien. Linking onto my arm as we walked to the lesser sights inside the walls, I didn't question it this time. Though maybe, earlier in our stay, I would've. It just never crossed my mind at this point to ask why she's doing it. Perhaps she could just do it because we weren't in our usual city, and I rolled with it. I asked, albeit a bit forcefully, when she pushed me to stand, pose, and take some pictures.

"I'm getting envious of everybody else here." 

Hmm. Doesn't sound half bad, but it does sound like an excuse from Nien. To be fair, a more homebody like me became just a bit more adventurous because of her, even after we settled for our stay. Sooner, I told her that it might rain a little later, the grey clouds slowly swamping out the sunlight as we kept walking. We did have a foldable umbrella, but having seen it bent before, I didn't want to trust it if the wind blew. She argued that we could just keep taking our time, though, adding her point that there was more to explore beyond the moat. 

Though the grey clouds, heavy as they were, rolled in faster than we anticipated. We were in a garden and managed to walk, almost into a jog, towards a pavilion as the raindrops began to fall heavily on us. When we got under the roof, it was dark. Nien and I caught ourselves for a moment before I started to notice the old wood, and I looked around. There was nobody else there. 

“Well, let’s wait,” I said, looking out to the garden. The wind was coming in now. 

I moved inside, adjusting my eyes from the hallway to see a sizable, but empty interior, almost cavernous because the roof was the ceiling itself. If we had run the other way, we would’ve ended up at a cafe. But we were here. Nien was on a bench, the second of three, scrolling on her phone. 

“Internet’s pretty slow,” Nien remarked when I sat beside her.  

I was about to space out, between staring at the interior and my phone, I considered just standing and walking around. The network is slow, as she said. Then Nien blurted out of the blue. 

“Sometimes I wonder why you don’t ask me out?”

I heard her. I froze a bit, though it hit like an M79—thump! 

“Hm?” I knew I would stutter as I met her stare. Though flatly, maybe firmly, I replied, “We’re workmates.” 

That was just me trying to run for cover. Nien was a wily woman.

“And single.” Nien butted in. The free spirit had me cornered. Another one, thump!

I turned to look at her, possibly overreacting, “I sure hope you’re not asking for casual.” 

“You know,” Nien grabbed my hand, squeezing it, “I have a visa,” her palm was sweating, “And you’re just an hour away.” 

“I know, but I just hope you don’t have any silly surprises from Taipei.” I wasn’t willing to be a third party.

"How about you're my "silly" surprise then?" Nien replied. I was tense, but sneaked out a smile, mirroring her. I asked, "Hard to hold one down with our work, no?" 

"Yeah, sounds nice sometimes..," I continued, "to settle." At the risk of sounding like a formal email. I couldn't think of saying anything else, really. Nien had other ideas besides just staring at me. Her gaze was on my lips. I was thinking about it, but she beat me to the chase again. I could only think; Please, don't just be another passing mirage. Yet she was a bold woman—asking for my commitment—there was no “no,” as her eyes locked onto me.

"Is that a yes or no?"

Responding with "maybe" was going to throw everything off. I did not doubt Nien, yet my doubt always forecasted itself when I needed it the least. It took me about a second to really gather my thoughts. This felt like the fucking interview again! I needed to think quickly. Nien was anything but bad. Whatever quirk I had thought of before, I forgot now, and in my recent attempts back home, they were all pale and shallow compared to where we were. It was half a calculation and boyish arrogance, and a matter of time before we reached this point. She got her reply. 

A smile came from Nien, her mouth still closed, "I knew you'd say that." 

Nien then held tighter, clasping over my palm, and shifted a bit closer. She was nervous. Her stare remained on my lips. We both took a breath, shut our eyes, and leaned into one another. It was no more than a smack, just two touches of our lips. It was juvenile in execution, both of us leaning in from a little too far. That's how I knew it'd been a long time coming for her, too. I leaned away from Nien, and she giggled a bit as I noticed she had already blushed red. 

Nien turned to face me, then came in for another. The rain was falling a little harder now. Our hands rose, hers resting on my shoulder, mine on her neck as our lips came together again. She took the lead this time and pushed slightly forward. Lightly tugging at her neck, I pushed back. A smooch rang out, and for a second, somebody giggled. I was trying to remember how to do it right, immediately snapping out of my head when her lips pushed against me, another smooch rang out. My other hand let go of hers, tugging at her pants as it glided up her right leg. I could not recall when tongues started getting involved, nor when I began to leave soft kisses on her neck. I made sure there were no hickeys. Yet once I found Nien’s lips again, we were noticeably getting more handsy, as mine was high up her skirt, while hers rested between my thighs. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two of us just making out, and just as I grabbed her ass a little,  breathlessly, she said.

“Hey,” tapping my chest, “Don’t get too playful.”

“I’m just listening to you.”

Nien just chuckled. Giving me another peck before we continued. She wasn’t stopping me at all. The rain was only falling harder now—time was almost up—and I needed to be bolder. Gently setting her on the bench, she must’ve known I was going to do something else. Pulling away just to see me dive to her neck again, though at the last second before I shut my eyes, hers looked downward. Giving her neck a few light kisses, moving often so as not to leave hickeys. My fingers were pulling on her drawstring, cradling her neck as my other arm meddled with the hem of her pants, sliding my fingers to her panties, but not into them. Letting out her first moan, weak, restrained, more of a hard breath, as my fingers pressed down on the warmest spot I could find. Beginning to draw in circles over the soft fabric as her breath hitched, she grabbed my arm as I moved faster. 

I giggled to myself as Nien’s breath hitched again, turning into an actual, audible, but still weak moan this time. Though the grip of her fingers tightened, I wasn’t even going any faster. She became more tense, stirring, shallow breaths, her chest rising outward as she rang herself out more and more. She was getting wetter, and I could only imagine what she looked like, as I was just listening to her. Though of course, we couldn’t do anything more, perhaps some sort of shame came over us when she said,

“Stop.” 

I did. Then I heard it, the rain was weaker now. 

“We can’t do that here.”

I agreed, never intending to go all the way. Pulling my fingers out and letting her fix her string. Though what we did, a half-assed confession, an exchange of lips, under a reconstructed garden pavilion, in a former palace, during the middle of a monsoon shower, was something I was never ready for. 

“You know, it would be hard to run outside if we get caught.”

She said, and was correct. Standing up like nothing happened, though visibly, she still looked a bit red. Almost surprised that we just did that. I stood up too and looked through the doorway, hoping not to catch a glimpse of anybody. I slung my bag around myself and took a sip. I needed to at least say something so as not to abruptly kill the tension. 

“We could continue this at the hotel.” 

Nien walked forward to kiss me, “I like that.”

I kissed her back. We just have to pretend nothing happened for now. Act cool, I thought, she must’ve too as she tapped on my shoulder, noticing I was a bit nervous. That ought to calm me down a bit, and I was less jittery by the time we were back out on the streets, seeing other visitors again. We hope nobody saw us. 

Though for a time, as the sun slowly began to set over the horizon, we were able to see more courtyards and another garden. The sunlight peeped through, as if it only rained to give us that little tussle. Maybe, it winked at us for it. We almost forgot our little episode with just how large exploring the citadel complex was. Nien and I were able to hide behind ourselves the fact that we had just done something so risqué, at a place considered so regal. She was back to her usual self, smiling for her camera as always. However, she was tugging me closer now, letting my arm feel her chest so often when she'd look over for photos. I jokingly had to tell her to quit it, and she just smirked at me.

The golden sunset had already broken through the scattered greys when Nien and I hopped on our motorcycle and, not being the most skilled rider, just waited in traffic. I was sort of hungry, though a snack from a roadside stall before we left seemed to quell it, but I knew a late dinner was due. Nien was hugging me from behind, pressing herself—again—on my back. I was doing everything to not get hard in public.

"You feel it?" Nien asked, giggling.

"Yes," I replied. 

Nien seemed to say something as the light turned green. So the only thing I heard was, beyond other vehicles on the road, and I revved the motorcycle, was myself going, "Huh?!" 

By the time we turned onto our street. It was a quieter part of town that allowed me a glance upward for a second. The sky had turned a deep grey, and Nien and I were close to the hotel. I was doing my damndest to turn my nervousness around. I heard that imagining yourself succeeding, rather than just scaring yourself with nervousness, helps. It did. Yet, trying to ignore the boner forming in my pants, her hands wrapped around me, all the way to the moment I shut the motor off, wasn't helping. 

Proceeding up to our room, the only person that bothered was the desk clerk. Finding ourselves proceeding down the same hallway as earlier, yet both of us seemed to be rushing towards our room. I fumbled the keys. Yes, keys, hurriedly picking them up. The jiggling nearly drove me mad because the lock decided to stiffen up just when we were going to get some. Almost barging inside, we threw our things onto the table, just enough time to switch the doorway light. We can't wait for the AC to cool, and we're next on the line.

Nien then put her hands on me just as she had earlier. Only taking a glance at my lips before leaning into them, meeting her halfway, with her reaching over my shoulders and grabbing my back and nape. I pulled her closer by her waist. Skipping from the shy kisses of earlier, our tongues and lips smacking almost as soon as we started. We weren’t going to get much standing up, though. 

Facing Nien to the bed, I continued where I had already been earlier. Planting my lips downward on her neck, sucking harder the lower I went. As I got to the top of her chest, her breath hitched, knees buckling a bit at how suddenly I ramped things up. Carefully, I placed her down, not letting go of her neck for a second, though her slight bounce off the mattress took me away from her collarbone. I got myself back on her lips as she slowly slid herself further up, hovering over her. Now, more comfortably, I looked at her for a moment, lying down, expectant, vulnerable, waiting, on the second bed. My bed. She must’ve seen how nervous I was with the huff I let out, to which she asked. 

“Take your time, what’s the rush?” 

I just smiled back at Nien. She was rhetorical, through her eyes gazed downward. I answered with a deep kiss and went where her eyes were. Now I was truly hopping off where I was earlier, I slid my hands under her bra as I kissed her exposed chest. Catching on, her hands raised her shirt over her shoulders, and off her. Now, in her bra, it was wireless from the look of it, and easier to remove. She arched her back, but I stopped her from doing it herself, a series of kisses on her tits as my hands pushed her tits, petite, but soft, onto my face. Tick!  

Getting Nien’s bra off her, the next sound it made was it being thrown against the wall. Not even giving her time to turn her head back to me as I took a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard. Perhaps a little too excitedly. Hearing her grimace, yet pushing her chest onto my face, I let go of her tit with a pop. Looking up to see her looking down too.

“Don’t stop that.” 

I was about to give a boyish smile. In my head, at least. Following her, I clamped on her other nipple, circling my tongue around the small bud while looking up to see her shut her eyes, letting out a long exhale. My hand glided over her body, feeling her shift her hip to let my hand slide in between her legs, sliding my fingers over her panties. She was turning hot, but that warm spot on my fingertips told me everything. Looking at me again, I kept my eyes on her as I slipped my fingers under her pants again, pressing harder where I did earlier. Her brows furrowed, letting out an uncaged moan while her whole body rose up to me as I dug my fingers in. Sliding my fingers over a few times kept making her squirm, then I began tracing my lips downward to her toned tummy, then below that as my fingers slipped to the slide and from her back. Pulling down her pants, it seemed that Nien was more in a hurry to get it off than I was, having me stand as it lay on the floor. I hurried and stripped down, now we were naked. 

Nien rose up to meet my lips while her hand grabbed at my cock. I was surprised at the sensation, her squeezing almost making me back off out of juvenile instinct—much like herself—it really had been a minute for us. It was semi-erect, stroking slowly, as we shared our tongues again. 

“Haven’t seen one in a while,” she said with a slight giggle. I did too with a hand on her tit, “Me too.”

Slowly pushing her down, I kneeled and retraced where my lips had gone. Though with her pants out of the way, we both knew what I was going to do next. Holding her legs open, I slid my tongue up her thigh, though going down, the closer I got to her pussy, I began to suck at her skin. From a glance, her folds looked dry, but my fingers weren’t lying, they were beckoning me, and I obliged. A moan was building up as I licked around her folds, slowly making my tongue paint, and let her feel my saliva as I prepared. It was a feint. A sharp gasp left her as the sucking on her clit began, lapping up at the hood and teasing my tongue in her hole. I was famished and a bit showy, but was it all just for Nien? Absolutely. 

Watching, with my fingers holding her legs open, let me feel her relax, then tense up, torso rising with just an upward swipe gave that shot of confidence I missed. Capturing her folds with my lips, the salty taste filling my imagination as I shut my eyes and just let what I knew how to do, let do. Focusing only on how my mouth slowly moved, hungered, and ate away at her. An arm reaching downward to grab me, only lightly, at my head. Listening, and feeling, hearing her low, buzzing moans would rise to gasps, and beg for just a little more. Even an instance where she slipped into Mandarin when I hit a good nerve with my tongue, even covering her mouth as Nien thought herself getting too loud, trying to hide her head sideways into the pillow. 

Holding onto a leg, I took a hand, and, timing my tongue with her clit, slowly pushed a finger inside as she shifted again. Nien groaned as her own hips helped slip my only finger inside. Curling it, her tightness immediately made itself felt as her warmth wrapped around, while I pushed and pressed with my finger. I couldn’t tell if it was my tongue or fingers that worked, as a gasp, her fingers gripping the bed, and a breathy cry told me I had found my mark. So, I pushed, following with a second finger that made her squirm more, her moans now only second to the slobbering between her legs. 

Then, Nien began to fall silent, though the same expression, now contorted—holding herself back—yet her body wasn’t lying. Her fingers grip on my hair slowly tightened as I licked and prodded away at her. My fingers almost found it hard to move as the inevitable came knocking. Her tightness made moving difficult, all the more with her twitching and shifting. Yet, she continued to roll her hips, as if she were riding on my fingers and leading herself on. Faster now. A messy dance on the mattress as she seemed more into it than I did, and with how she was grabbing my hair, I was to have my proof soon enough.

A short, breathy, unintelligible string of words left Nien. Then she cried out, sank her head onto the pillow, arched her back, and closed her legs. She came, and came faster than either of us must’ve thought. Looking up, the expression on her face read a mix of surprise and pleasure, but also of a strange relief, relishing that moment of release. Her mouth hanging open, weak moans leaving her while her eyebrows furrowed, rolling and lightly shaking as she let her body talk for itself. She waited for this. Her orgasm almost came in waves, shuddering for nearly a minute before, suddenly, she just plopped down, completely melted, her chest rising and falling, taking deep breaths as she looked like she was about to sleep. 

“You okay?”

That was the first thing spoken in a while. 

Nien, while still flushed, tried to sit up, but I was first. Getting back on the bed, my cock was now erect and needed to be inside her, fast. Through some sleight of hand, I was slowly stroking myself too as I listened to her. I pushed her down, and just smirked at me with her legs open—no problems—and after I took another smack of her nipple, put her arms over my shoulders. 

Curious, I asked her how I did.

“Better than what I could do,” Nien answered. Having not wiped my lips, she beckoned me to kiss her, though not without sucking the two fingers that helped her cum just then. That ought to clean and taste herself. Reaching my arm down, I slipped my hand under her knee and pushed her leg open, her left foot high up in the air, the right over my back. My hand grabbed hers, holding tight and staring at me hard. We knew what was next. I glanced down and lined myself up, planted my knees, and slid in. Both of us moaned as my hips, only on instinct, told me to just push. Halfway inside, I stopped, letting myself feel her tightness, then Nien interrupted.

“Keep going.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. So I did. Holding my breath as I moved my hips, I watched her bite her lip, keeping her gaze as I thrust all the way inside Nien. Letting out sighs as I filled her, relaxing myself, as I slid back and began to move. A renewed but also arrogant vigor came to me as I paced myself, enjoying watching her take me. She watched for a second before one thrust hit her, shutting her eyes as I thrusted deep. Not too fast now, not too fast. Burying her head on the pillow as she tried to get a hold of herself, getting over the short, passing tinge of pain of her first time in a while, and me trying to make that while last. She wanted this, and our pieces were in play now.

Getting at a pace, I found myself moaning along with Nien. Sometimes, I shut my eyes as I dove down to kiss her neck, just to feel how my cock split and felt her pussy contract. When I would see her, the way her body moved, pinned, shivering, and nipples fully erect, a light sheen of sweat already making itself seen. Even with her eyes closed, her fingers unchanged in their tight grip, she let herself feel all of it. In the few shared glances, she looked on, satisfied. My face probably told her that too, tapping me on the cheek and flashing a shy smile before snapping back with a thrust. If I had told myself a few months ago that I would fuck my foreign work visit partner, I wouldn’t believe it, and neither would she.

Straightening myself, I pull Nien’s legs along and hold her at her hip. Picking my pace up a bit, I could feel myself throbbing, while trying to ignore how quickly that building weight of my orgasm rang into my head. Her grip on my wrists tightened and arched her back at the new tempo, her slight movements just a little more pronounced. Giving herself up as she let go and just grabbed wherever onto the sheets—yet it was too overwhelming—from the wet sound of contact, the sensation of her walls choking me, sliding by raw. Trying to focus on her, or even thinking of work, hell, counting numbers even, was useless. That made me cut my run short, barely pulling myself out of her in time. Catching my breath, the whole effort made it look like I finished a little early.

“You came?”

I shook my head, trying to force myself to relax while my cock, undeniably wet even in the poor light, twitched. Nien then switched the lamp on, seeing it better for herself as she sat across from me, the tip had turned red from how close I was. 

“You?” I asked back.

“I think I did,” she said with a slight giggle, trailing off with, “maybe a few.” 

Though now, Nien had her chance. As I waited, she did too. Knowing that she wanted to blow me earlier, I decided to just sit there, my legs wide open, cock hanging in the air, and she took the bait. Kneeling, her hand wrapped around my base and her lips, looking plumpier than I bothered to, just inches away from the tip. Glancing up at me, she met me looking down, anticipating the first blow I’ve had in a while. Sticking her tongue out, she seemed unsure and kept her gaze at me, slowly licking along the shaft from where her hand was up. Licking her lips, she opened and slowly sank herself downward. I was bracing that she’d be reckless, but she was careful, a rather shy blow rather than a gaudy one. Her lips wrapped around my cock as her neck bobbed at that pace, her glancing so often as if waiting for a thumbs-up from me. The single “fuck,” I breathily uttered, gave me away. 

Releasing me with a pop, Nien stroked it twice before she rose up. She then told me to just.

“Stay there.”

Straddling me, Nien lay her hands on her shoulder, straightened herself, and with a deep kiss, sat down on my cock. Grabbing her ass and squeezing, as an arm of hers pressed down on my leg, trying to stop me from slipping all the way in. She wanted the pleasure of riding it down her way. Breaking away just to let out a moan as she sprang back up, going deeper every time she came down, moaning at every inch. Then she began to roll her hips, which seemed to get her more tense and hot. Now she had found the perfect motion to ride me in. Moaning more freely now as I let go of her lips and put mine on her neck, slowly kissing at it as the tightest sensation on my cock signaled where her spot was, shuddering as she forced herself to keep steady. At times, it sounded like she was forcing herself a bit, straining to keep herself going, not going any faster, but just enough to enjoy herself. It wasn’t even long before she started to mount me. I knew her stamina was high, yet maybe we had overestimated ourselves. 

“Are you usually this shaky?” 

“Not really. I’ve been only using my fingers,” Nien replied.

“Oh?” Maybe my short reply said the quiet part a bit too loud.

“You don’t believe me?” Nien almost stopped and was just about to mope. Her expression was a 180 from a few seconds ago. 

“I do,” I must’ve been too blunt, and said an actual truth, “we’re always outside together.” 

Nien smiled. Phew. Then whispered something out of the blue. It wasn’t out of character for an extrovert, “Not even my toys are close to yours.”

I must’ve smiled too, because she gave it back, leaning her neck down and kissing me as she continued to ride. I was getting all the attention she could give, and I was bashful about it still. I tried my luck again.

“You seem a little tired already.” 

Nien was much sweatier now than when I first noticed. She tried to brush it off, but it was just a ruse. I began thrusting upward. Her other arm swung onto my shoulder as I took over again, both of us moving, pushing with our bodies only to meet halfway. Biting down hard on my tongue as I kept fucking her from below. It didn’t take long before she shot me a look of shock and disbelief, pulling me towards her as she kept moving. The telling twitching of an orgasm surprised both of us, groaning as she rode her own orgasm out. I was desperate to not follow, relaxing my lower half, in contrast to her twitching and squeezing. At the same time, my lips were planted on her chest, sucking away. Forget not leaving hickeys now. Then, just as quickly, she stopped, huffing. I considered myself lucky this time. Pushing her forward a bit so I can suck on her tits while thinking of what to do next. 

Then I remembered what I saw once when she wore a backless dress for a function.

“Turn around,” I told Nien. Getting off me, she did as such. Giving me a view of the ass I’d been gripping at since the afternoon. Turning her head to look at me as I slid myself inside, bucking my hips the moment I got past the tighter ring of flesh, huffing as the feeling, the sheer tightness of it, as I went deeper always caught me off guard. Grabbing her wrist, I pinned it down to her back as I began to move, her face dropping almost instantly into the mattress as the first thrust hit. Pulling from her hip, I dug in. 

Nien’s muffled moans filled the air. Her back muscles showed while I had my show of athleticism. Abruptly cutting my pace, I watched the length of my cock disappear in and out of her, slipping carelessly with her wetness aiding. That small, but willing resistance of her flesh overcomes my hips, while she groaned and squeezed me from below. Then, through the sound of our sex slapping together, the familiar, sinking weight that I had held back earlier began to rear itself again. Feeling more sensitive, I was twitching, faking out was a kamikaze’s errand. Not wanting to waste such a pretty face, I pulled her upwards, not knowing it would only leave my cock in such a spot that left it lodged deep. Greeting me with a kiss, she could probably tell I was barely holding on, so Nien asked.

“Are you close?”

I answered. Of course I was. Placing her lips on mine, Nien began to move. A reversal of our roles earlier, now she was fucking herself on my cock. I groaned even if my tongue was in her mouth, my hand traveling up her torso, the other, with her wrist guiding it, came up to her neck. Leaning forward, I pulled her closer to me, face to face, feeling our breaths coming right on our skin as we stared each other down. She knew I was ticking, her hips becoming all the more unbearable as I was close to no return. 

“You want me to pull out?” I asked Nien. Her face went neutral.

“No,” she replied, kissing me, “You can pull out another time.”

Sounds like we’re not done with one. An exchange of tongues ensued, with Nien continuing to move, now set on making me cum inside her. I did too, fighting back with my own hips as I pushed as deep as I could, her arm reaching backward to my head as her moans continued to rise. Letting our lips go to a cuss for a second, only to return much bolder, sloppier as I picked up my pace. She had completely stopped by this point. I was fucking her as hard as it would allow me. 

Taking my lips off Nien’s, I could feel myself at my orgasm’s door, with my cock as the ram. She was loud, and we shared the same chorus in the room. I was the quieter one, grunting and moaning on my own, while she was begging for me to keep fucking her. It seemed she was going too. Trying to keep herself steady as that same stirring and twitching, her hands were gripped hard. All of that only drove my cock at its deepest into her. I couldn’t even tell her, but I knew that she knew. Then we came—Nien was first, and I followed—letting out a gasp as she threw her head back, as I groaned while my lips kissed her back, pushing her, pushing myself, as deep as I could. My cock, having been denied itself a few times before, now relented, flooding her as it squeezed its own load out. Like her, it took me longer than usual to ride my orgasm down. Yet our lips never broke once. 

We were tired. Huffing as I spilled onto the bed, while Nien pulled herself away, I grabbed the tissues at the nightstand for her. Given how sweaty we were, it was wise not to crash and lie on the mattress. We both just sat on the edge as I caught my breath, leaning her head onto me. It was a mirror of what we did at the citadel. Now, it was her turn to say the quiet part out loud. 

"That was," she paused, "intense."

I agreed. Both of us tried to compliment each other. Nien took it in stride, smiling at me. Finally, that smile again. Meanwhile, I remained shy about it, telling her I must've been lucky making her cum that much. She confided she was also surprised about that. She did her best to make me accept it, putting her foot down with a somewhat cryptic statement.

"That only means you're good to me." 

Perhaps I was dense to understand. Nien knew it. 

"You figured me out quickly," she said, leaning over to kiss me, "You can't do that if you don't like somebody."

Then Nien stood up and got in the shower. I followed her, though cleaning ourselves wasn't exactly the first priority. It was a tight fit, only made tighter by two horny adults sharing the same space. Taking a cold bath, she knelt down on the tiled floor to suck at my cock as soon as I washed it. Without any intention of really pacing myself this time, I bent her over under the showerhead in return—she was even louder in the shower—cumming inside her mouth this time. That made an ordinary bath much longer than it should have been. Switching to a lazy dinner outfit, by the time I had strung the "for cleaning" sign on the door, we were dragging ourselves by our steps, almost shuffling as we left the hotel. Bún bò Huế and vegetables to restore our spent stamina were what we had in mind. Though linked to my shoulder while we walked down the evening in Huế, she cheekily asked some. 

"Maybe a few beers and one more round." 

I liked that proposition simply because Nien said it. 

[ov105]

The Writing Process:

This is literally how it feels.

You get stuck between "Am I writing for others approval?" and "Am I writing this because nobody else will do it this way."

Though that's too much high-horsing for someone who does write sporadically, but with little to no distinction between stories. I mean, I'm a vanilla writer, I think that's a reason why my veteran experience writing means little in the grand scheme of things.

I'm boring, I know, but to hell with it, I am the writer.

[ov105]

very cozy nien fic, could definitely feel the vibe for this one, keep at it ov! Hoping to see more fromis as well if you are still into them 🥹

Thanks very much! I've been meaning to try a "based on irl" for like...the longest time already. Probably a more focused attempt at a more complete style of storytelling.

I mean, the sex is still vanilla though, but the vibes is what I wanted to go for. Here, have the soup I mentioned at the end.

[ov105]

Pineapple Cake

In what is more of a love letter to Vietnam than a straight-up smut, we have Nien in the lead. First time I tried adding an IRL picture to at least help myself a bit. I'm not gonna lie, I was missing the city more writing the first half, that's why it took so long. All vibes for this one.

We're going to another city next!

7,672 words of Nien. Enjoy!

Rain in Southeast Asia is nothing to scoff at. Particularly not when you’re informed to prepare to move for a company branch during said rainy season, worse, in short, a three-week notice. It brings an altogether sigh and a cold drink together, after which I would grab and wipe down my luggages and throw them open about two days before departing. It’s always an adventure, sure, and I look forward to the new person I will come out of the place. But it works altogether. However, I noticed another addition in the email order I received.

“Do not pass immigration until she has transferred from her Taipei flight. You must pass it together.” 

Her? They typically do not say names, as HR doesn’t know or care who. I also understood it was not to stir a raised eyebrow from the immigration officer. But yes, the pronoun made my head tilt. Having had a “his” to partner me during the few work trips, and often than not, I just kept it professional. It is usually someone with a better-ish grasp of the local language than I. However, I almost always grab the free two-week language program, which is a good excuse to do other things during company time. It makes the white lie of “easily learns new languages” in my resumé seem worthwhile.

I wasn’t so glum about it. I was looking forward to it even, despite some naughty suggestions from my colleagues, I was firm that it was just another work deployment. Though I cannot deny myself the power of my imagination. I was young and single, so the idea never really left me. The idea made me ponder once or twice in the weeks leading up to the day, all while having no real imagination of who I had to live with for the next few months, except that it was a she. Given that it was Da Nang I was to leave for, there was quite a bit on my mind, though I doubt the adjustment wouldn’t be too hard. I’ve done this before, so it can’t be that different, can it? 

In the meantime, I did what I could to get a clearer image of the place I would call home for a bit. I thought I had to grab a motorcycle if I wanted to go around on the weekends. However, I don't consider myself to be the most adventurous of people, but in a new country, I don't mind. I looked forward to sitting on a stool and eating whatever I picked; the good excuse of "I can jog this out tomorrow" always worked like a charm, and being used to greens helped.

Though that was all I did for the past three weeks. Now I'm a bit early at the airport, waiting outside a cafe, a large suitcase on one end, an empty plate and almost-finished mug on the table, and waiting on an empty chair while double-checking whether the documents I had were correct. Though I was just watching something on my phone when I got the message that she had arrived. Let's see if I was lucky, but now I just need to be professional. It did not take long before a tall lady, quite serious, searching, about five-foot-six, could tell from a glance she was Taiwanese, probably because she wasn't so pale. I thought maybe that was her. Then she saw me, looked at her phone, and walked towards me. Yep, that's her. 

I stood up to meet her. A firm handshake but a carefree smile. Good impressions all around, she seemed very fun to be around, happy-go-lucky, as said. It was pretty easy to crack the ice, warming up to each other easily, as she had been my counterpart in the Taipei office for some time now. We were now the "traveling circus," since they had shifted from sending uninterested middle-aged executives a while ago. Yet her name was one of the things I asked first, so I have one: Hsu Nien Tzu. 

I remember asking her one thing before standing up: if she could speak the language. I was not about to start a bad demonstration. 

"I'm half-Vietnamese," Nien replied, "we're gonna be fine."

Save for the passing score I got when it came to comprehension, I was glad. Alright, this was going to be better than I had hoped. So we followed another set of orders: pass by immigration, eat, and wait for our flight to leave after sunset. I was constantly reminded that I needed to speak up more to my trip partners, so I decided to keep the conversation as natural as possible. Talking to Nien over dinner gave that, sharing an early phở before we left. It made me wonder why I didn't decide to set out and look for who I was going with on the trip. On trips before, I got my answer at least a week before we departed. Maybe I was too busy, or perhaps some part of me liked that anticipation, the waiting, yet it's not like I exclusively work with men, so what gives? 

Maybe I’ve probably gotten too used to the scheduling. This was also my longest deployment so far, so there was probably more off time between us. I always make it a point not to make it too personal, but I value the companionship I get. 

We passed the time that way, and before long, we were number two for takeoff on a rainy evening. It took a bit of both waiting and a little turbulence, with a loud turbofan roar and water flying by the window as we left the city. I saw it disappear behind the clouds; thick clouds only meant rain, and pretty much another goodbye. I hoped the rain wouldn’t follow us there as the plane settled into its climb, so I whispered it to Nien too; she was already, understandably, half-asleep, and she agreed. We were heading to a coastal city after all, and I knew it would be sooner or later. I just about remembered the slight pull of settling into cruising altitude as I dozed off, unable to put my book back and it on the tray table.

We were being told to put the tray tables up when we woke. I look outside and see spotlights on the water, equally spaced apart. The next thing my eyes saw was a mass of lights in a line, some were moving, but most were static; the unmistakable coastline, and a temporary new life. Our little residence should be across what seems to be the river, a little company present that overlooked the estuary. I could feel Nien was looking over, too. 

“Fishing boats.” I blurted without question. 

“Hm?” Nien sounded off. I asked, letting my thoughts known, “wanna grab something when we land?” 

She just nodded. 

That’s what we did. Getting our bags and getting into a company car took less than fifteen minutes. A junior representative welcomed us and discussed what to expect in our new residence. Trying not to space out and just look out the window, one moment we were at a stoplight with just a bit too many motorcycles, the next, we were on a bridge, a pretty well-lit one at that, glancing to see the many skyscrapers before looking back and trying to read the paper in the dark. We were told to split tasks for tomorrow as we needed to show up by Monday. I agreed that I was the one getting the long license conversion pipeline. 

Unpacking our things, I gave a generous, well, a little too generous, tip to our welcoming party. It was a small third-floor accommodation, with a nice river view as I walked out onto the small balcony, with a row of sellers a few walks to the right. I remembered what I told her two hours ago on the plane. I turned around to see Nien had changed into more comfortable clothes, nothing unusual. She seemed to fit right in, and I did my part by changing into sandals. Our conversation took off where it was at the airport, no work yet, that was tomorrow’s problem, ending our first night with a celebratory beer and two bowls of noodles. I think it was Mì Quảng. 

The next day came as it did, and we started working as the weekend passed. It only took about a week, and adding a few more, coupled with plastic bags of beer, or enjoying the long lunch breaks, to really get on their best graces. Before we knew it, we were almost halfway through our stay. They remarked from the first few days that they liked having someone closer to their age to mess around with. I also did, and having a roommate that the guys liked flirting with was fun to watch. It never crossed my mind to look at her differently, visually or personally—though I did understand why people wanted to flirt with her—perhaps keeping myself down, shifting into the college-age rhetoric of never getting involved with your colleagues. Even if we shared the same room, we had to run errands together sometimes. However, Nien did bring up a throwaway line when we were sharing a drink on the balcony once.

Nien asked, "You mentioned I'm the first girl you went on a visiting trip with?"

I replied, "Yeah, it was always men before that."

"Mine too. So you're my first guy partner." Nien answered, adding, "It's quite relaxing."

"And why's that?"

She replied, "You're not a bother," then paused again.

"If anything, I kind of forget we've been together for like, six weeks now."

I paused too, mid-sip, putting the glass away from my lips and corrected her, "Together in Da Nang, you mean."

Nien chuckled, taking it in stride, "Yeah, together in Da Nang," before taking a swig of her glass, which had already made her fingers cold and wet. She had held on to it for a bit too long. 

We left it at that. A slight brush at the line. It was like that until we got to Huế.

The monsoon season came as I had predicted. Switching out the sticky, humid heat of mainland Southeast Asia for the torrential rain of its archipelagic neighbors. Save for the second morning, when we were able to tour a bit of the citadel and some of the city. We shared mugs of coffee when the heat got too much for us, which, by this point, was the bitterness we'd gotten used to. Now every other coffee will taste diluted. The rest of our week was forecasted to be just a gloomy morning, followed by an afternoon downpour, and evening rain, all in that order. I looked across the river, our cheap local hotel barely had a view over the river and to the citadel. I wondered to myself, "Just getting across that moat would've sucked." 

Our actual reason for being in the older city was far outside the center. A site visit, about an hour or so via a rented motorcycle, amounted to us arriving at a small roadside site. Nien and I were just being toured around and gave pretty faces, maybe interviewing some folks, but all in a day's work; show up, play nice, lead them along, write the report the evening before we get on the bus Saturday morning. We arrived and finished early in the afternoon, which was unexpectedly sunny for that day, both much to our surprise. Changing into more comfortable, warm-weather clothes, we thought the same thing—there was enough time to kill. 

It was a fine tour of the citadel, again this time with less time to beat, for ourselves. Perhaps the aspect of sightseeing while breaking a bit of a sweat endeared itself to Nien. Linking onto my arm as we walked to the lesser sights inside the walls, I didn't question it this time. Though maybe, earlier in our stay, I would've. It just never crossed my mind at this point to ask why she's doing it. Perhaps she could just do it because we weren't in our usual city, and I rolled with it. I asked, albeit a bit forcefully, when she pushed me to stand, pose, and take some pictures.

"I'm getting envious of everybody else here." 

Hmm. Doesn't sound half bad, but it does sound like an excuse from Nien. To be fair, a more homebody like me became just a bit more adventurous because of her, even after we settled for our stay. Sooner, I told her that it might rain a little later, the grey clouds slowly swamping out the sunlight as we kept walking. We did have a foldable umbrella, but having seen it bent before, I didn't want to trust it if the wind blew. She argued that we could just keep taking our time, though, adding her point that there was more to explore beyond the moat. 

Though the grey clouds, heavy as they were, rolled in faster than we anticipated. We were in a garden and managed to walk, almost into a jog, towards a pavilion as the raindrops began to fall heavily on us. When we got under the roof, it was dark. Nien and I caught ourselves for a moment before I started to notice the old wood, and I looked around. There was nobody else there. 

“Well, let’s wait,” I said, looking out to the garden. The wind was coming in now. 

I moved inside, adjusting my eyes from the hallway to see a sizable, but empty interior, almost cavernous because the roof was the ceiling itself. If we had run the other way, we would’ve ended up at a cafe. But we were here. Nien was on a bench, the second of three, scrolling on her phone. 

“Internet’s pretty slow,” Nien remarked when I sat beside her.  

I was about to space out, between staring at the interior and my phone, I considered just standing and walking around. The network is slow, as she said. Then Nien blurted out of the blue. 

“Sometimes I wonder why you don’t ask me out?”

I heard her. I froze a bit, though it hit like an M79—thump! 

“Hm?” I knew I would stutter as I met her stare. Though flatly, maybe firmly, I replied, “We’re workmates.” 

That was just me trying to run for cover. Nien was a wily woman.

“And single.” Nien butted in. The free spirit had me cornered. Another one, thump!

I turned to look at her, possibly overreacting, “I sure hope you’re not asking for casual.” 

“You know,” Nien grabbed my hand, squeezing it, “I have a visa,” her palm was sweating, “And you’re just an hour away.” 

“I know, but I just hope you don’t have any silly surprises from Taipei.” I wasn’t willing to be a third party.

"How about you're my "silly" surprise then?" Nien replied. I was tense, but sneaked out a smile, mirroring her. I asked, "Hard to hold one down with our work, no?" 

"Yeah, sounds nice sometimes..," I continued, "to settle." At the risk of sounding like a formal email. I couldn't think of saying anything else, really. Nien had other ideas besides just staring at me. Her gaze was on my lips. I was thinking about it, but she beat me to the chase again. I could only think; Please, don't just be another passing mirage. Yet she was a bold woman—asking for my commitment—there was no “no,” as her eyes locked onto me.

"Is that a yes or no?"

Responding with "maybe" was going to throw everything off. I did not doubt Nien, yet my doubt always forecasted itself when I needed it the least. It took me about a second to really gather my thoughts. This felt like the fucking interview again! I needed to think quickly. Nien was anything but bad. Whatever quirk I had thought of before, I forgot now, and in my recent attempts back home, they were all pale and shallow compared to where we were. It was half a calculation and boyish arrogance, and a matter of time before we reached this point. She got her reply. 

A smile came from Nien, her mouth still closed, "I knew you'd say that." 

Nien then held tighter, clasping over my palm, and shifted a bit closer. She was nervous. Her stare remained on my lips. We both took a breath, shut our eyes, and leaned into one another. It was no more than a smack, just two touches of our lips. It was juvenile in execution, both of us leaning in from a little too far. That's how I knew it'd been a long time coming for her, too. I leaned away from Nien, and she giggled a bit as I noticed she had already blushed red. 

Nien turned to face me, then came in for another. The rain was falling a little harder now. Our hands rose, hers resting on my shoulder, mine on her neck as our lips came together again. She took the lead this time and pushed slightly forward. Lightly tugging at her neck, I pushed back. A smooch rang out, and for a second, somebody giggled. I was trying to remember how to do it right, immediately snapping out of my head when her lips pushed against me, another smooch rang out. My other hand let go of hers, tugging at her pants as it glided up her right leg. I could not recall when tongues started getting involved, nor when I began to leave soft kisses on her neck. I made sure there were no hickeys. Yet once I found Nien’s lips again, we were noticeably getting more handsy, as mine was high up her skirt, while hers rested between my thighs. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two of us just making out, and just as I grabbed her ass a little,  breathlessly, she said.

“Hey,” tapping my chest, “Don’t get too playful.”

“I’m just listening to you.”

Nien just chuckled. Giving me another peck before we continued. She wasn’t stopping me at all. The rain was only falling harder now—time was almost up—and I needed to be bolder. Gently setting her on the bench, she must’ve known I was going to do something else. Pulling away just to see me dive to her neck again, though at the last second before I shut my eyes, hers looked downward. Giving her neck a few light kisses, moving often so as not to leave hickeys. My fingers were pulling on her drawstring, cradling her neck as my other arm meddled with the hem of her pants, sliding my fingers to her panties, but not into them. Letting out her first moan, weak, restrained, more of a hard breath, as my fingers pressed down on the warmest spot I could find. Beginning to draw in circles over the soft fabric as her breath hitched, she grabbed my arm as I moved faster. 

I giggled to myself as Nien’s breath hitched again, turning into an actual, audible, but still weak moan this time. Though the grip of her fingers tightened, I wasn’t even going any faster. She became more tense, stirring, shallow breaths, her chest rising outward as she rang herself out more and more. She was getting wetter, and I could only imagine what she looked like, as I was just listening to her. Though of course, we couldn’t do anything more, perhaps some sort of shame came over us when she said,

“Stop.” 

I did. Then I heard it, the rain was weaker now. 

“We can’t do that here.”

I agreed, never intending to go all the way. Pulling my fingers out and letting her fix her string. Though what we did, a half-assed confession, an exchange of lips, under a reconstructed garden pavilion, in a former palace, during the middle of a monsoon shower, was something I was never ready for. 

“You know, it would be hard to run outside if we get caught.”

She said, and was correct. Standing up like nothing happened, though visibly, she still looked a bit red. Almost surprised that we just did that. I stood up too and looked through the doorway, hoping not to catch a glimpse of anybody. I slung my bag around myself and took a sip. I needed to at least say something so as not to abruptly kill the tension. 

“We could continue this at the hotel.” 

Nien walked forward to kiss me, “I like that.”

I kissed her back. We just have to pretend nothing happened for now. Act cool, I thought, she must’ve too as she tapped on my shoulder, noticing I was a bit nervous. That ought to calm me down a bit, and I was less jittery by the time we were back out on the streets, seeing other visitors again. We hope nobody saw us. 

Though for a time, as the sun slowly began to set over the horizon, we were able to see more courtyards and another garden. The sunlight peeped through, as if it only rained to give us that little tussle. Maybe, it winked at us for it. We almost forgot our little episode with just how large exploring the citadel complex was. Nien and I were able to hide behind ourselves the fact that we had just done something so risqué, at a place considered so regal. She was back to her usual self, smiling for her camera as always. However, she was tugging me closer now, letting my arm feel her chest so often when she'd look over for photos. I jokingly had to tell her to quit it, and she just smirked at me.

The golden sunset had already broken through the scattered greys when Nien and I hopped on our motorcycle and, not being the most skilled rider, just waited in traffic. I was sort of hungry, though a snack from a roadside stall before we left seemed to quell it, but I knew a late dinner was due. Nien was hugging me from behind, pressing herself—again—on my back. I was doing everything to not get hard in public.

"You feel it?" Nien asked, giggling.

"Yes," I replied. 

Nien seemed to say something as the light turned green. So the only thing I heard was, beyond other vehicles on the road, and I revved the motorcycle, was myself going, "Huh?!" 

By the time we turned onto our street. It was a quieter part of town that allowed me a glance upward for a second. The sky had turned a deep grey, and Nien and I were close to the hotel. I was doing my damndest to turn my nervousness around. I heard that imagining yourself succeeding, rather than just scaring yourself with nervousness, helps. It did. Yet, trying to ignore the boner forming in my pants, her hands wrapped around me, all the way to the moment I shut the motor off, wasn't helping. 

Proceeding up to our room, the only person that bothered was the desk clerk. Finding ourselves proceeding down the same hallway as earlier, yet both of us seemed to be rushing towards our room. I fumbled the keys. Yes, keys, hurriedly picking them up. The jiggling nearly drove me mad because the lock decided to stiffen up just when we were going to get some. Almost barging inside, we threw our things onto the table, just enough time to switch the doorway light. We can't wait for the AC to cool, and we're next on the line.

Nien then put her hands on me just as she had earlier. Only taking a glance at my lips before leaning into them, meeting her halfway, with her reaching over my shoulders and grabbing my back and nape. I pulled her closer by her waist. Skipping from the shy kisses of earlier, our tongues and lips smacking almost as soon as we started. We weren’t going to get much standing up, though. 

Facing Nien to the bed, I continued where I had already been earlier. Planting my lips downward on her neck, sucking harder the lower I went. As I got to the top of her chest, her breath hitched, knees buckling a bit at how suddenly I ramped things up. Carefully, I placed her down, not letting go of her neck for a second, though her slight bounce off the mattress took me away from her collarbone. I got myself back on her lips as she slowly slid herself further up, hovering over her. Now, more comfortably, I looked at her for a moment, lying down, expectant, vulnerable, waiting, on the second bed. My bed. She must’ve seen how nervous I was with the huff I let out, to which she asked. 

“Take your time, what’s the rush?” 

I just smiled back at Nien. She was rhetorical, through her eyes gazed downward. I answered with a deep kiss and went where her eyes were. Now I was truly hopping off where I was earlier, I slid my hands under her bra as I kissed her exposed chest. Catching on, her hands raised her shirt over her shoulders, and off her. Now, in her bra, it was wireless from the look of it, and easier to remove. She arched her back, but I stopped her from doing it herself, a series of kisses on her tits as my hands pushed her tits, petite, but soft, onto my face. Tick!  

Getting Nien’s bra off her, the next sound it made was it being thrown against the wall. Not even giving her time to turn her head back to me as I took a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard. Perhaps a little too excitedly. Hearing her grimace, yet pushing her chest onto my face, I let go of her tit with a pop. Looking up to see her looking down too.

“Don’t stop that.” 

I was about to give a boyish smile. In my head, at least. Following her, I clamped on her other nipple, circling my tongue around the small bud while looking up to see her shut her eyes, letting out a long exhale. My hand glided over her body, feeling her shift her hip to let my hand slide in between her legs, sliding my fingers over her panties. She was turning hot, but that warm spot on my fingertips told me everything. Looking at me again, I kept my eyes on her as I slipped my fingers under her pants again, pressing harder where I did earlier. Her brows furrowed, letting out an uncaged moan while her whole body rose up to me as I dug my fingers in. Sliding my fingers over a few times kept making her squirm, then I began tracing my lips downward to her toned tummy, then below that as my fingers slipped to the slide and from her back. Pulling down her pants, it seemed that Nien was more in a hurry to get it off than I was, having me stand as it lay on the floor. I hurried and stripped down, now we were naked. 

Nien rose up to meet my lips while her hand grabbed at my cock. I was surprised at the sensation, her squeezing almost making me back off out of juvenile instinct—much like herself—it really had been a minute for us. It was semi-erect, stroking slowly, as we shared our tongues again. 

“Haven’t seen one in a while,” she said with a slight giggle. I did too with a hand on her tit, “Me too.”

Slowly pushing her down, I kneeled and retraced where my lips had gone. Though with her pants out of the way, we both knew what I was going to do next. Holding her legs open, I slid my tongue up her thigh, though going down, the closer I got to her pussy, I began to suck at her skin. From a glance, her folds looked dry, but my fingers weren’t lying, they were beckoning me, and I obliged. A moan was building up as I licked around her folds, slowly making my tongue paint, and let her feel my saliva as I prepared. It was a feint. A sharp gasp left her as the sucking on her clit began, lapping up at the hood and teasing my tongue in her hole. I was famished and a bit showy, but was it all just for Nien? Absolutely. 

Watching, with my fingers holding her legs open, let me feel her relax, then tense up, torso rising with just an upward swipe gave that shot of confidence I missed. Capturing her folds with my lips, the salty taste filling my imagination as I shut my eyes and just let what I knew how to do, let do. Focusing only on how my mouth slowly moved, hungered, and ate away at her. An arm reaching downward to grab me, only lightly, at my head. Listening, and feeling, hearing her low, buzzing moans would rise to gasps, and beg for just a little more. Even an instance where she slipped into Mandarin when I hit a good nerve with my tongue, even covering her mouth as Nien thought herself getting too loud, trying to hide her head sideways into the pillow. 

Holding onto a leg, I took a hand, and, timing my tongue with her clit, slowly pushed a finger inside as she shifted again. Nien groaned as her own hips helped slip my only finger inside. Curling it, her tightness immediately made itself felt as her warmth wrapped around, while I pushed and pressed with my finger. I couldn’t tell if it was my tongue or fingers that worked, as a gasp, her fingers gripping the bed, and a breathy cry told me I had found my mark. So, I pushed, following with a second finger that made her squirm more, her moans now only second to the slobbering between her legs. 

Then, Nien began to fall silent, though the same expression, now contorted—holding herself back—yet her body wasn’t lying. Her fingers grip on my hair slowly tightened as I licked and prodded away at her. My fingers almost found it hard to move as the inevitable came knocking. Her tightness made moving difficult, all the more with her twitching and shifting. Yet, she continued to roll her hips, as if she were riding on my fingers and leading herself on. Faster now. A messy dance on the mattress as she seemed more into it than I did, and with how she was grabbing my hair, I was to have my proof soon enough.

A short, breathy, unintelligible string of words left Nien. Then she cried out, sank her head onto the pillow, arched her back, and closed her legs. She came, and came faster than either of us must’ve thought. Looking up, the expression on her face read a mix of surprise and pleasure, but also of a strange relief, relishing that moment of release. Her mouth hanging open, weak moans leaving her while her eyebrows furrowed, rolling and lightly shaking as she let her body talk for itself. She waited for this. Her orgasm almost came in waves, shuddering for nearly a minute before, suddenly, she just plopped down, completely melted, her chest rising and falling, taking deep breaths as she looked like she was about to sleep. 

“You okay?”

That was the first thing spoken in a while. 

Nien, while still flushed, tried to sit up, but I was first. Getting back on the bed, my cock was now erect and needed to be inside her, fast. Through some sleight of hand, I was slowly stroking myself too as I listened to her. I pushed her down, and just smirked at me with her legs open—no problems—and after I took another smack of her nipple, put her arms over my shoulders. 

Curious, I asked her how I did.

“Better than what I could do,” Nien answered. Having not wiped my lips, she beckoned me to kiss her, though not without sucking the two fingers that helped her cum just then. That ought to clean and taste herself. Reaching my arm down, I slipped my hand under her knee and pushed her leg open, her left foot high up in the air, the right over my back. My hand grabbed hers, holding tight and staring at me hard. We knew what was next. I glanced down and lined myself up, planted my knees, and slid in. Both of us moaned as my hips, only on instinct, told me to just push. Halfway inside, I stopped, letting myself feel her tightness, then Nien interrupted.

“Keep going.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. So I did. Holding my breath as I moved my hips, I watched her bite her lip, keeping her gaze as I thrust all the way inside Nien. Letting out sighs as I filled her, relaxing myself, as I slid back and began to move. A renewed but also arrogant vigor came to me as I paced myself, enjoying watching her take me. She watched for a second before one thrust hit her, shutting her eyes as I thrusted deep. Not too fast now, not too fast. Burying her head on the pillow as she tried to get a hold of herself, getting over the short, passing tinge of pain of her first time in a while, and me trying to make that while last. She wanted this, and our pieces were in play now.

Getting at a pace, I found myself moaning along with Nien. Sometimes, I shut my eyes as I dove down to kiss her neck, just to feel how my cock split and felt her pussy contract. When I would see her, the way her body moved, pinned, shivering, and nipples fully erect, a light sheen of sweat already making itself seen. Even with her eyes closed, her fingers unchanged in their tight grip, she let herself feel all of it. In the few shared glances, she looked on, satisfied. My face probably told her that too, tapping me on the cheek and flashing a shy smile before snapping back with a thrust. If I had told myself a few months ago that I would fuck my foreign work visit partner, I wouldn’t believe it, and neither would she.

Straightening myself, I pull Nien’s legs along and hold her at her hip. Picking my pace up a bit, I could feel myself throbbing, while trying to ignore how quickly that building weight of my orgasm rang into my head. Her grip on my wrists tightened and arched her back at the new tempo, her slight movements just a little more pronounced. Giving herself up as she let go and just grabbed wherever onto the sheets—yet it was too overwhelming—from the wet sound of contact, the sensation of her walls choking me, sliding by raw. Trying to focus on her, or even thinking of work, hell, counting numbers even, was useless. That made me cut my run short, barely pulling myself out of her in time. Catching my breath, the whole effort made it look like I finished a little early.

“You came?”

I shook my head, trying to force myself to relax while my cock, undeniably wet even in the poor light, twitched. Nien then switched the lamp on, seeing it better for herself as she sat across from me, the tip had turned red from how close I was. 

“You?” I asked back.

“I think I did,” she said with a slight giggle, trailing off with, “maybe a few.” 

Though now, Nien had her chance. As I waited, she did too. Knowing that she wanted to blow me earlier, I decided to just sit there, my legs wide open, cock hanging in the air, and she took the bait. Kneeling, her hand wrapped around my base and her lips, looking plumpier than I bothered to, just inches away from the tip. Glancing up at me, she met me looking down, anticipating the first blow I’ve had in a while. Sticking her tongue out, she seemed unsure and kept her gaze at me, slowly licking along the shaft from where her hand was up. Licking her lips, she opened and slowly sank herself downward. I was bracing that she’d be reckless, but she was careful, a rather shy blow rather than a gaudy one. Her lips wrapped around my cock as her neck bobbed at that pace, her glancing so often as if waiting for a thumbs-up from me. The single “fuck,” I breathily uttered, gave me away. 

Releasing me with a pop, Nien stroked it twice before she rose up. She then told me to just.

“Stay there.”

Straddling me, Nien lay her hands on her shoulder, straightened herself, and with a deep kiss, sat down on my cock. Grabbing her ass and squeezing, as an arm of hers pressed down on my leg, trying to stop me from slipping all the way in. She wanted the pleasure of riding it down her way. Breaking away just to let out a moan as she sprang back up, going deeper every time she came down, moaning at every inch. Then she began to roll her hips, which seemed to get her more tense and hot. Now she had found the perfect motion to ride me in. Moaning more freely now as I let go of her lips and put mine on her neck, slowly kissing at it as the tightest sensation on my cock signaled where her spot was, shuddering as she forced herself to keep steady. At times, it sounded like she was forcing herself a bit, straining to keep herself going, not going any faster, but just enough to enjoy herself. It wasn’t even long before she started to mount me. I knew her stamina was high, yet maybe we had overestimated ourselves. 

“Are you usually this shaky?” 

“Not really. I’ve been only using my fingers,” Nien replied.

“Oh?” Maybe my short reply said the quiet part a bit too loud.

“You don’t believe me?” Nien almost stopped and was just about to mope. Her expression was a 180 from a few seconds ago. 

“I do,” I must’ve been too blunt, and said an actual truth, “we’re always outside together.” 

Nien smiled. Phew. Then whispered something out of the blue. It wasn’t out of character for an extrovert, “Not even my toys are close to yours.”

I must’ve smiled too, because she gave it back, leaning her neck down and kissing me as she continued to ride. I was getting all the attention she could give, and I was bashful about it still. I tried my luck again.

“You seem a little tired already.” 

Nien was much sweatier now than when I first noticed. She tried to brush it off, but it was just a ruse. I began thrusting upward. Her other arm swung onto my shoulder as I took over again, both of us moving, pushing with our bodies only to meet halfway. Biting down hard on my tongue as I kept fucking her from below. It didn’t take long before she shot me a look of shock and disbelief, pulling me towards her as she kept moving. The telling twitching of an orgasm surprised both of us, groaning as she rode her own orgasm out. I was desperate to not follow, relaxing my lower half, in contrast to her twitching and squeezing. At the same time, my lips were planted on her chest, sucking away. Forget not leaving hickeys now. Then, just as quickly, she stopped, huffing. I considered myself lucky this time. Pushing her forward a bit so I can suck on her tits while thinking of what to do next. 

Then I remembered what I saw once when she wore a backless dress for a function.

“Turn around,” I told Nien. Getting off me, she did as such. Giving me a view of the ass I’d been gripping at since the afternoon. Turning her head to look at me as I slid myself inside, bucking my hips the moment I got past the tighter ring of flesh, huffing as the feeling, the sheer tightness of it, as I went deeper always caught me off guard. Grabbing her wrist, I pinned it down to her back as I began to move, her face dropping almost instantly into the mattress as the first thrust hit. Pulling from her hip, I dug in. 

Nien’s muffled moans filled the air. Her back muscles showed while I had my show of athleticism. Abruptly cutting my pace, I watched the length of my cock disappear in and out of her, slipping carelessly with her wetness aiding. That small, but willing resistance of her flesh overcomes my hips, while she groaned and squeezed me from below. Then, through the sound of our sex slapping together, the familiar, sinking weight that I had held back earlier began to rear itself again. Feeling more sensitive, I was twitching, faking out was a kamikaze’s errand. Not wanting to waste such a pretty face, I pulled her upwards, not knowing it would only leave my cock in such a spot that left it lodged deep. Greeting me with a kiss, she could probably tell I was barely holding on, so Nien asked.

“Are you close?”

I answered. Of course I was. Placing her lips on mine, Nien began to move. A reversal of our roles earlier, now she was fucking herself on my cock. I groaned even if my tongue was in her mouth, my hand traveling up her torso, the other, with her wrist guiding it, came up to her neck. Leaning forward, I pulled her closer to me, face to face, feeling our breaths coming right on our skin as we stared each other down. She knew I was ticking, her hips becoming all the more unbearable as I was close to no return. 

“You want me to pull out?” I asked Nien. Her face went neutral.

“No,” she replied, kissing me, “You can pull out another time.”

Sounds like we’re not done with one. An exchange of tongues ensued, with Nien continuing to move, now set on making me cum inside her. I did too, fighting back with my own hips as I pushed as deep as I could, her arm reaching backward to my head as her moans continued to rise. Letting our lips go to a cuss for a second, only to return much bolder, sloppier as I picked up my pace. She had completely stopped by this point. I was fucking her as hard as it would allow me. 

Taking my lips off Nien’s, I could feel myself at my orgasm’s door, with my cock as the ram. She was loud, and we shared the same chorus in the room. I was the quieter one, grunting and moaning on my own, while she was begging for me to keep fucking her. It seemed she was going too. Trying to keep herself steady as that same stirring and twitching, her hands were gripped hard. All of that only drove my cock at its deepest into her. I couldn’t even tell her, but I knew that she knew. Then we came—Nien was first, and I followed—letting out a gasp as she threw her head back, as I groaned while my lips kissed her back, pushing her, pushing myself, as deep as I could. My cock, having been denied itself a few times before, now relented, flooding her as it squeezed its own load out. Like her, it took me longer than usual to ride my orgasm down. Yet our lips never broke once. 

We were tired. Huffing as I spilled onto the bed, while Nien pulled herself away, I grabbed the tissues at the nightstand for her. Given how sweaty we were, it was wise not to crash and lie on the mattress. We both just sat on the edge as I caught my breath, leaning her head onto me. It was a mirror of what we did at the citadel. Now, it was her turn to say the quiet part out loud. 

"That was," she paused, "intense."

I agreed. Both of us tried to compliment each other. Nien took it in stride, smiling at me. Finally, that smile again. Meanwhile, I remained shy about it, telling her I must've been lucky making her cum that much. She confided she was also surprised about that. She did her best to make me accept it, putting her foot down with a somewhat cryptic statement.

"That only means you're good to me." 

Perhaps I was dense to understand. Nien knew it. 

"You figured me out quickly," she said, leaning over to kiss me, "You can't do that if you don't like somebody."

Then Nien stood up and got in the shower. I followed her, though cleaning ourselves wasn't exactly the first priority. It was a tight fit, only made tighter by two horny adults sharing the same space. Taking a cold bath, she knelt down on the tiled floor to suck at my cock as soon as I washed it. Without any intention of really pacing myself this time, I bent her over under the showerhead in return—she was even louder in the shower—cumming inside her mouth this time. That made an ordinary bath much longer than it should have been. Switching to a lazy dinner outfit, by the time I had strung the "for cleaning" sign on the door, we were dragging ourselves by our steps, almost shuffling as we left the hotel. Bún bò Huế and vegetables to restore our spent stamina were what we had in mind. Though linked to my shoulder while we walked down the evening in Huế, she cheekily asked some. 

"Maybe a few beers and one more round." 

I liked that proposition simply because Nien said it. 

[ov105]

They might not be as active compared to the old days but Minju (along with Eunbi) is fairly active on social media, so while they aren't able to show what they are working on. There's still content unlike... *Stares as void* remembering the 3 months of radio silence between 2019 and 2020

Vacation with these two would be either very relaxing or very chaotic 😂

Also checkout some fan account posting Minju's bubble

I remember that silence in 2019 and 2020. It was a weird time. Only for Fiesta to come out before COVID really hit the fan lol.

Minju slimmed down a bit, but it's still Minju, so still a ten—with a centillion zeros behind. I do miss her being a little more plump.

[ov105]

Did you expect yourself to be writing for this long? How does your other hobbies/ways to entertain yourself compared to writing (and specifically writing smut)?

Have you ever released a fic you felt lukewarm about at first but grew to like over time?

Honestly, no. I thought I was just "gonna write a few stories and leave." But groups I actually liked keep coming, so I kept writing. Though for some groups, I've abandoned the thought of writing for because I'm not keen on the idea of saturation.

It's fine if I don't write for someone very famous, I like my independence as a writer.

I don't really have much in the way of other hobbies, though I would like to cook, it just so happens the stove in the house is near useless...

Honestly, Minju. That manuscript was so long (iirc 60+ pages) I didn't know what possessed me to write it in the first place besides from it being a literal pandemic baby. Overtime, as I got my writing efficiency in check, the fics got shorter, but also more narratively compact. Going back to Minju, I was quite checked out by the last part, but folks always mentioned how they loved it, so I ended up warming up to it too.

[ov105]

🍁‎ kaede‎ update [250805]

[ov105]

Which are your favorite TripleS ships? Will you write them with male oc in the future? 👀👀👀

Hmmm, I mean, I don't really do FFM (it's hard to coordinate in your head) but I can always do a piece for each girl hahaha. Now, in no particular order. These are the first couples that come to my head...

---

Soxinz (of course!)

Nootnootz (or nupznupz idk)

Just about them, cause I lost track of the other couples a while ago...

[ov105]

Oh hey welcome back! A big fan since Isla. Chubby Kang Mina is the best!

Sorry for the late reply, but you're goddamn right. I miss her (and her nice bust).

Though I just have to take some time to remember that fic. You've been supporting for so long, and I have been very infrequent updating hahaha. To put it in perspective, the resort that gave me the idea for the fic had just opened when I wrote it, now people say it's a nice one, and a bit bigger—just like Mina heh. I've been doing this for so long, thanks a lot!

[ov105]

You Write Better When You Improvise

seol yoon-ah x male reader

college au, pwp, build up, fluff (?), smut

8k words

Orientation is loud.

That's the first thought that comes into your head as you step into the auditorium, shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of strangers, all pretending they aren't just as lost as you are.

There's music being blasted from cheap speakers and the occasional whistle of a mic being tested by an emcee trying too hard to impress. The chatters of hundreds of people reverberate and ring throughout the auditorium like a rising tide, layered over the sound of shuffling feet and plastic chairs scraping against the floor.

Someone beside you is already scribbling notes in a welcome booklet like it's a test paper. You step sideways, trying not to elbow anyone, scanning rows of identical tote bags and unfamiliar heads.

In a sea of faces, you're finding it hard to spot her. She said she'd meet you here. "Auditorium B," she texted casually, like it wasn't your first day on a campus you didn't recognise, surrounded by people two years younger but somehow already ahead.

Your phone buzzes again.

jiwoo: i lied. i’m late. again. u love me anyway also they gave us these ugly tote bags lol you: 😐

You sighed. She hadn't changed in the 18 months you were gone. Still the same old chronic texter, serial latecomer, and one of the only people who actually kept in touch while you were halfway across the country doing push-ups at the crack of dawn.

Unlike every other guy your age, you decided to enlist right after graduating high school in hopes that you would be able to complete uni life without any military service disruptions.

You ended up with exactly that — 18 months of routine, of shaved heads and strict orders, of standing at attention while your friends posted party photos from their freshman dorms.

You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. The AC's doing nothing against the mix of perfumes and colognes, sweat, and nerves lingering in the auditorium. You loosen the strap of your sling bag and take another quick glance around, still no sign of her.

You're debating whether to leave and pretend you never came when a voice calls out — familiar, exasperating.

"God, you're tall. Why'd I forget that?"

You turn just in time to catch Jiwoo elbowing through a pair of freshmen with a grin that says she's not even sorry, tote bag already crumpled like she wrestled it. Her hair's lighter compared to the last time you saw her, dyed in a way that catches the fluorescent lights.

She looks every inch the experienced university sophomore she is — smug, seasoned, and thirty minutes late. You stand almost a whole foot taller than her, albeit not a difficult feat with her petite stature. It's good to see her after only looking at unfamiliar faces all morning, and after seeing none that felt like home.

Jiwoo looks up at you, squinting like she's doing mental math. "Wait," she says, deadpan." You didn't grow again, right? Please tell me the military didn't feed you Miracle-Gro."

You let out a hearty chuckle, the kind that hadn't escaped your throat in a long time. The thing with Jiwoo is that she always knew how to make you laugh. "Nah, just protein shakes and existential dread."

She grins, walking the last few steps and throwing an arm casually around your waist (she's not tall enough for your shoulders). "Welcome to hell, by the way. Civilian edition. I expect full obedience, hoobae."

You groan as you fall into step beside her. "I'm still older than you, y'know."

"I'm a sophomore and you're a freshman. In my books, that makes me the senior here," she shoots back, sticking her tongue out. "And you're gonna be lost for at least a week, so you'd better follow my lead."

Her relentless teasing comes pouring down, just like it did back in high school. It's like she was never gone, and for a second, it almost feels like time never moved at all since graduation.

You both fall into an easy rhythm, dodging slow-walking freshmen and the occasional overenthusiastic orientation group trying to start a cheer. Jiwoo gives half-hearted finger guns at some juniors who clearly recognise her, and you can already tell she's one of those campus names — not quite all-campus famous, but definitely not quite forgettable either.

"You nervous?" she asks after a beat.

You shrug. "Not really. Kind of surreal, though. Like I blinked and skipped a year of life."

"You did," she says. "You skipped the awkward hookups, all-nighters, bad haircuts, and falling asleep in lectures." She stops and ponders for a second, "Actually, in all honesty, you basically missed nothing."

"Except," you say, "you got to be my senior."

Her eyes twinkle mischievously. "And I've been waiting for this payback for a long time. Me, the junior, once bullied by you, now equipped with the same power."

"Bullied? I never bullied you."

"You always took the last banana milk at the convenience store and walked away without looking back."

"That's called being efficient."

"You're evil."

Before you can respond, Jiwoo's gaze catches someone near the auditorium doors.

"Oh! Yoon-Ah!"

You follow her gaze and see a girl leaning lightly against the wall next to the doors, scrolling through her phone. She looks up and waves back when Jiwoo calls, and your breath stutters for half a second.

She's beautiful. Ethereal, even, in the kind of quiet way that makes you stare without meaning to. Clean lines, soft features that remind you of a deer, and an air of calm that contrasts so sharply with the noise of the auditorium. Her eyes land on you with gentle curiosity, and suddenly, you're very aware of how wrinkled your shirt is.

"She's my roommate," Jiwoo says as the girl approaches. "Be nice or I'll tell her all your high school secrets."

You nod, straightening instinctively before frowning at her words. "I was always nice."

"Hi," the girl says with a smile that's both polite and a little amused. "I'm Sullyoon."

You nod again, maybe too quickly. "Hey. I'm—uh. Jiwoo's friend."

Jiwoo snorts. "He's fresh out of the army, awkward as hell, and apparently he forgot how to talk to pretty girls."

Sullyoon blinks, then covers her mouth as she chuckles — an angelical, infectious laugh where her shoulders shake at the same time, and it’s the kind of sound that makes you want to hear it again.

"Welcome to campus," she says. "Don't worry. We're not all freshmen."

"She's your sunbae now, too," Jiwoo says with a wide grin.

You sigh. "Great. Two of you."

Sullyoon glances at Jiwoo, amused. "He's fun."

"Oh," Jiwoo says, as her trademark mischievous grin spreads across her face. "You have no idea."

And just like that, you're being ushered to sit with them, Sullyoon sliding in beside you, Jiwoo plopping her bag down like it’s her house, and the emcee finally getting the mic to stop screeching.

Voices drone on in the background, but your attention has shifted. You're entranced by the presence of the girl sitting beside you; you'd only just met her, and yet it feels calm and grounding, like a quiet island amid the chaotic sea of orientation noise.

Jiwoo's still rattling off stories about campus life, but you catch Sullyoon's eyes flickering toward you now and then — curious, amused, maybe even a little intrigued.

After a while, Jiwoo nudges you both. "Lunch? My treat. By that I mean I'm starving and have zero self-control around campus food courts and I need my friends to accompany me so I'm bribing you with money."

You glance at Sullyoon, who shrugs with a smile. "I'm in. I need fuel to survive Jiwoo's terrible jokes."

You grin. “That makes two of us.”

Jiwoo gasps dramatically, as if she genuinely offended. "Terrible? I'll have you know people pay good money for this level of comedy."

"Who?" you deadpan.

"Me," she says proudly. "I pay myself in serotonin."

The three of you exit the auditorium, stepping into the bright afternoon sun. Jiwoo leads the way, weaving through clusters of freshmen. You walk beside Sullyoon, the noise fading a little as the two of you fall into an easy rhythm.

"So," she begins, glancing sideways at you, "freshman year, huh? Must be weird starting uni after the army."

You chuckle. "Weird is an understatement. It's like everyone else hit pause on life while I was stuck in fast-forward."

She nods. "I get that. I took a gap year before starting uni. Everyone felt so far ahead. That and, well… almost everyone in my cohort's a year younger, so I always feel slightly off-sync."

You laugh heartily, only the second one today, and the first not caused by Jiwoo. "Mine’s two years younger. So there’s that."

She smiles, eyes crinkling just a bit. "Guess you're not alone, then."

There's a pause, and for a moment, it feels like the world around you has dimmed to just the two of you.

Then Jiwoo's voice breaks in, loud and obnoxious as ever. "Welcome to my favourite bubble tea chain! I need a sip of this every day. Also, I’m really craving fried chicken right now."

You muse at Jiwoo's ability to spoil the moment, comparable to a human sledgehammer — but somehow, the warmth lingers, even after the spell is gone. You glance at Sullyoon next to you, her face equally as amused, and you can’t help but think that things can only go up from here.

The first few weeks feel like a breeze, even as the campus hums with the nervous energy of new beginnings and deadlines. Classes roll by in a whirlwind of lectures, discussions, and late-night readings, but somehow, the chaos feels less overwhelming with familiar presences next to you.

Late nights over at Jiwoo's and Sullyoon's dorm become the norm; more often than not, they end with bottles of soju scattered all over the floor, sometimes even shards of broken glass. With Jiwoo's lightweight nature, there are countless times you find yourself carrying her to bed while Sullyoon quietly cleans up the mess.

Sullyoon rarely joins in the drinking, with her being a lightweight herself, so most of the chaos is courtesy of you doing the heavy lifting.

"Thanks for cleaning up again," you say, slumping onto the couch and rubbing your temples. "I may have gone a little overboard with the drinking this time."

She glances over with a small smile, handing you a glass of water. "You say that every time. Maybe next time, try pacing yourself?"

You grin sheepishly. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Her eyes sparkle with amusement, and the easy silence between you feels warmer than the soju ever could. A warmth you feel unfamiliar with, as if she's unlocking some part of you you didn’t even know was sealed shut — something softer, quieter, untouched by the noise of routine and the years that blurred past you.

You steal a glance at her, watching as she methodically wipes the coffee table clean, hair falling slightly over her face. The lamp in the back illuminates her in a soft halo, highlighting and casting a golden hue across her cheekbones.

Her soft hair drops down in a way that brushes gently against her cheek, framing her features with an effortless elegance — the kind she never seems aware of. She tucks a strand behind her ear absentmindedly, focused on the task at hand, but your eyes linger a little longer than they should.

"You always take care of everything," you murmur.

She pauses, not looking up. "Someone has to. You and Jiwoo are hopeless."

You chuckle, leaning back. "I think I’m starting to depend on you too much."

This time, she looks at you. Not with a smirk or a tease, but something gentler, deeper. "Then I guess it’s a good thing I don't mind."

The silence returns, but something's changed. It feels different now. And you wonder if she feels it too.

Midterms roll around faster than expected as April arrives. The campus library becomes your second home. The hushed whispers and scratches people make on paper add to the ambience that helps you with your concentration on your project. A creative writing project, part of a minor you picked up more out of impulse than foresight.

But the further you go, the more you realise you needed it — the writing, the space to untangle your own thoughts, to turn emotions into something readable.

Yoon-Ah, as you've grown to call her, becomes a constant in your life. Late-night ramyeon cooking and spontaneous movie breaks between study sessions become routine. They're not planned, not discussed, just understood.

general seol: i’m hungry :( buldak or neoguri you: why even ask if you always just choose buldak general seol: you never know when I feel like having something more soupy you: and if on that same day, jiwoo miraculously stops cracking puns, then I’ll know for sure the world is ending general seol: whatever we’re rewatching zootopia this time, you don’t get to choose

It surprises you how easy it is — how seamless her presence fits into your days. There's a rhythm now, a shared playlist of habits and glances. She becomes visibly more comfortable, no longer bothered by unintentional touches and knees bumping on the couch during movie time, or shoulders touching on the way back to the dorm from grocery runs.

Late-night calls become more frequent, almost a necessity before ending the day, sometimes going way deep into the night. There are even a couple of times you fall asleep to each other's breathing and wake up the next day with your phone still warm in your hand.

You start to know more about each other, how she has two younger siblings, how she took Spanish classes in high school and travelled to Madrid during her gap year, and the small things, like how she only wore crop tops in her dorm, how she had a playful side to her usually prim and proper self.

And before you know it, she starts joining you during your library time.

"You always look like you’re about to monologue when you're stuck," she teases one afternoon. She's resting her head on the desk with her hair sprawled out across the wooden table, staring up at you as you focus on your typing.

"That's because I am," you reply, deadpan. "I'm a tortured artist, Yoon-Ah. Respect the process."

She snorts, tossing an eraser at you. "You’re just stalling."

But then she sits up, crosses her legs, and says, "Okay. Tell me what your character wants. Start there."

And just like that, without even realising it, she’s helping you write as well.

One weekend in late May, Jiwoo heads home for a family gathering, suitcase in hand, leaving the two of you alone in the dorm. It's raining, and you end up watching another movie together after a grocery run. Halfway through, you realise you've stopped paying attention.

Yoon-Ah is curled into the corner of the couch, blanket up to her chin, hair slightly damp from the walk back from the supermarket, clinging softly to the sides of her face. The faint scent of rain clings to her, mixed with that subtle floral aroma that’s become oddly comforting to you — like an anchor in the middle of the storm.

The dim light casts gentle shadows across her features, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw and the smooth arch of her eyebrows. Her doe-like eyes, usually filled with mirth and amusement, are half-closed now, heavy with tiredness but still holding that quiet spark that always draws you in.

She yawns and turns to you, whispering something about the cinematography — but you don’t really catch it. You just nod.

Your shoulders are touching, and you hesitate to inch your hands closer to hers.

By the time the credits are about to roll, the blanket falls to the ground as she falls asleep.

You can't help but notice her midriff, exposed to the cold breeze of the AC. Toned and smooth, her fair skin taut over gentle curves. A faint line of delicate muscle traces down toward her waist, hinting at quiet strength beneath the softness.

Your eyes move up to her chest, rising up and down, her cleavage visible as her top was slightly pulled down lower than usual.

You swallow, your heart beating a little faster in the dim light. You look away out of restraint, afraid of what thoughts your brain might conjure up.

Just thinking about her in that way intoxicates you more than any other alcohol. 18 months in the military straight out of high school left you in solitary. Apart from a couple of casual hookups with Jiwoo on certain leave days, you were almost new to and deprived of sex.

And with the fast-paced routine of everyone in university life, it's hard to catch anyone's eye. That, and the fact that everyone in your cohort is 2 years younger, which, to you, is a no-go. You draw the line at 1.

Anyway, you spent all your free time with Jiwoo and Yoon-Ah, so it’s not like you're out there looking for someone. Besides, you had more important studies to focus on.

She suddenly mutters something in her sleep, probably just a sound caught between dreams. You pause, then gently pick the blanket up from the floor, draping it over her again. To keep her warm, yes, but that's not the only reason why — though that's what you try to tell yourself.

As you lean back and your eyes drift to the rain streaking across the windows, you're suddenly pulled back to a night about a month ago.

Jiwoo's birthday. It was right before midterms, a spur-of-the-moment party for her that had an underlying, "we're kinda only throwing this party to relax two days before exams" reason behind it, but Jiwoo didn't seem to mind.

It was originally supposed to be a quiet one, just the three of you, and it was meant to be a surprise, but with Jiwoo's quick wits and her sharp eyes, she pretty much caught on immediately.

Much to both your and Yoon-Ah's dismay, she ended up taking over the planning process and invited everyone she knew. The initially planned small celebration in the dorm (which you now considered to be your main place of stay; most nights you just crash on the couch) became a gigantic roof-top party, with only a handful of people you recognised that you could count on one hand.

Yoon-Ah seemed to be on the same boat as you, looking like a damsel in distress, particularly highlighted by her doe-like features.

"Jiwoo sure is famous on campus, huh." You walked over to her, offering her a drink you filled up from the dispenser with a party cup. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took it, soft and lingering, just a split second too long to be accidental.

She glanced up at you with that same faint smile she always wore when Jiwoo was being Jiwoo — fond, exasperated, and just a little bit tired. Her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, a quiet laugh slipping past her lips. "You're telling me. I thought we agreed on a quiet surprise, not a K-pop fan meet."

You chuckled, shifting your weight beside her against the railing. From here, you could see most of the rooftop crowd. Jiwoo was laughing with someone across the way, lights stringing overhead, music pulsing low and steady in the background.

But somehow, in that moment, the crowd blurred. Your awareness narrowed until it was just you and Yoon-Ah, side by side beneath the soft glow of the fairy lights. She smelled faintly of rose and something warmer, like vanilla, subtle and familiar — the kind of scent that clung to your hoodie after long nights together and lingered longer than you'd ever admit.

It took a couple more cups before you realised the drinks had alcohol in them, the clear indication being Yoon-Ah's flushed face and slurred words.

A clearer indication would be when she started to inch closer to you ever so slightly, before she fully leaned into your shoulder with a soft sigh, and you could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"You're warm," she mumbled, barely audible over the music, her fingers curling loosely around your wrist.

You laughed in response. Partly out of reflex, partly as a defence mechanism. You were entering uncharted physical touch territory, and your body didn't quite know what to do with itself. “You’re drunk.”

She blinked up at you, slow and lazy, her lashes heavy, lips parted in that loose, unguarded way intoxication sometimes brings. "Nooo, I’m — okay, maybe a little," she drawled, letting the words hang in the air like fog.

Then, without moving her head from your shoulder, she tilted it slightly toward you, her breath warm against your neck. "You’ve got that army energy, you know…"

You turned your head just enough to look at her. "What does that even mean?"

Her smile turned playful — slow, slightly crooked, like the alcohol had softened the lines of her usual expressions. "Like… you'd be really good at… building tents. Giving orders. Kinda in a hot way but... emotionally constipated."

You snorted. "Wow. Thanks?"

"I'm just saying," she murmured, almost sing-song now, like every word required a bit more effort than she meant it to. Her fingers, still wrapped around your wrist, moved slightly — a light, dragging touch that lingered too long to be accidental.

There was a pause. Not long enough to be awkward, but long enough for the air to shift. For her to lean in a little closer, enough for her voice to fall into a murmur only you could hear.

"I bet you lost your virginity before enlistment, huh."

Another thing you learned about her: with her inhibitions lowered from alcohol, she really had no filter with her boldness. It was like a complete 180 from her usual self.

You turned, startled, caught between disbelief and secondhand embarrassment. She was watching you through half-lidded eyes, a mischievous flicker in them despite her intoxicated haze.

"…Seriously?"

She gave a one-shouldered shrug, loose and unbothered. "So? Am I wrong?"

You thought for a bit, wondering whether you should answer her, before finally giving in, "You are, actually." You pondered on whether you should reveal the next part to her.

Yoon-Ah caught on to your hesitation immediately, her eyes narrowing — or at least trying to, given how slowly her facial muscles seemed to be cooperating. Her curiosity was piqued now, stirred awake by the alcohol and her usual inability to let things go once she caught a thread of intrigue.

"What aren't you saying?" she prodded, voice slurred but sharp enough to cut. "Come on. Spill."

You hesitated, rubbing the back of your neck. Then, with a resigned sigh, you caved.

"I hooked up with Jiwoo when I was on leave," you admitted, your voice low. "Just last year. She was… the first."

You braced yourself, unsure what reaction you were expecting — discomfort, judgment, maybe even jealousy — but definitely not what came next.

A soft giggle escaped her lips, quickly bubbling into a full-bodied laugh — loud and unrestrained, the loudest you had heard from her in the almost two months of knowing each other, her head tilting back as she clutched at her sides.

It was the most uninhibited sound you'd ever heard from her.

"That makes two of us then," she managed between breaths, then grinning at the look on your face.

You stared at her, blinking once. Then twice.

"…You’re kidding."

She wiped at the corner of her eye, still laughing a little as the remnants of amusement softened into something gentler, more reflective. "Nope."

You tried to wrap your head around it — not just the confession, but how casually she said it, like it wasn't a bombshell. Like she hadn't just completely rearranged your understanding of the two most constant people in your life.

You tilted your head. "When?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight back against the wall as her body swayed slightly, her arm brushing yours again — whether by accident or intention, you couldn't tell. "Sometime during freshman year. It was… kinda messy. But not dramatic. We were both drunk, bored, and frankly a little lonely." She paused, gaze drifting past your shoulder, out into the haze of rooftop lights. "She kissed me first, if you're wondering."

You weren't sure how to respond, as something shifted somewhere in your chest. You weren't sure whether it was feelings of relief or jealousy, or something in between. But instead of overthinking it, you just went with it.

"Makes sense," you said, lips quirking up. "She is a pretty good kisser. I’ll give her that."

She turned to look at you, blinking slowly — then burst into laughter again, though this time it was quieter, more breath than sound. Her hand found your arm, fingers curling loosely around your wrist as if to steady herself.

"You're the worst," she said, but there was no bite to it. Her thumb brushed against your skin, absentminded, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it. And you didn’t move away.

"I mean," she went on, head tilting slightly, her words still a little slurred but more deliberate now, "I always figured there was something between you two. The way you looked at her. The way she teased you." She squinted at you, expression amused. "But I don't swing that way, if you're wondering. It was just for fun." She looked at you, as if hoping for some sort of reaction.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Just for fun, huh? You and Jiwoo have pretty interesting definitions of boredom, then."

She scoffs, nudging your arm with hers. "You're one to talk, Mr 'She was my first.' What, no heartfelt confessions? Candlelight?"

"Please, I don't see her that way, and we both know that. I just needed some stress relief from the army, and Jiwoo needed it too."

It was her turn to look at you with her eyebrow raised, so you indulged further.

"Plus, it was in her car. After bibimbap. Romantic as hell."

That earns another laugh — her hand flying to her mouth too late to stifle it. "God, that's awful."

"It was foggy," you say, mock solemn. "We couldn't see out of the windows, Titanic style."

"You did not just compare Jiwoo's Kia to the Titanic."

You shrug. "It makes sense. I was Jack, she was Rose. The dashboard was the iceberg, how it killed the sex."

She groans, collapsing sideways and almost falling over the railing. "You're the worst person I know." You couldn't help but grin.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there in that shared understanding, the hum of the city below, wrapping around the rooftop like a warm current. Then Yoon-Ah's fingers gave a slight squeeze around your wrist, grounding.

You turned to look at her. The rooftop light hit the edge of her cheekbone, casting soft shadows across her face. You suddenly became aware of how close she was — how her knees were angled just barely toward yours, how her lips were parted like she still had more to say but hadn’t quite figured out the words.

"…Are you drunk-drunk?" you asked, only half-joking.

She smiled — slow, sly, knowing. "Maybe."

Then, after a beat: "But not too drunk to know that I’m glad I stayed behind tonight."

Something in the way she said it made your pulse stutter.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, or if it was just her being unfiltered, unafraid. But for the first time, you let yourself lean into it.

"Me too."

Suddenly, a flash of light interrupts your memory, then a low, rolling crack of thunder tears through the room.

You blink, disoriented for a moment, as the rooftop, the party, and the warmth of Yoon-Ah's laugh dissolve into the here and now.

The thunder jolts you back to the dorm couch. The screen is dark, the movie long finished. The rain has thickened into a steady downpour against the windows, and the occasional rumble of thunder rolls through the air like distant cannon fire.

Yoon-Ah stirs from beside you, her body tensing briefly before relaxing again, blinking up at the ceiling with bleary confusion.

"...What time is it?" she mumbles, voice raspy with sleep. Her hair is slightly messy now, sticking to her cheek, and the blanket you'd pulled over her is twisted around her legs. She shifts, then winces. "Ugh, my neck."

You glance at the clock on Jiwoo's desk. "Almost eleven."

She sits up slowly, groaning, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't mean to knock out. What even happened in the movie?"

You shrug. "No idea. I stopped watching after the opening credits."

She lets out a breathy laugh and turns to face you, knees drawn up to her chest under the blanket. "Nice. So neither of us knows how it ends."

"It's fine, it was probably a pretty shit movie anyway." You glance over at her, bundled up in the blanket and her posture curled into a ball on the couch, hair a mess, sleep still lingering in her eyes, giving off the vibe of a domestic girlfriend.

After a moment of comfortable silence, she suggests, "We should probably get back to work, shouldn't we? Don't you still have that one creative writing assignment?"

You groan at the reminder. It's the same one you'd been putting off for weeks, stuck at the same line, the same blank page that somehow felt more personal than it had any right to be. Your task required you to add a mature spin on your piece, and you were struggling with the details.

"I hate that you remember things like this," you mutter, dragging a hand down your face.

She grins, stretching her arms above her head before flopping back against the couch cushions. "Someone has to hold you accountable."

You sigh, already dragging your laptop over from the coffee table and flipping it open with all the enthusiasm of a funeral march. She does the same with her iPad, propping it up on her knees and opening her notes app.

For a while, the only sound you hear is the low hum of rain with the occasional thunder, and the soft tapping of keys and stylus against glass. It's oddly peaceful and domestic, in a way that makes your chest ache with something you don't want to name.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes pass. Then, out of nowhere:

"Hey."

You glance up. She isn't looking at you, still staring at her screen, light reflecting off the frame of her reading glasses, but there's a slight furrow in her brow now. Like she's hesitating.

"Just now, when I was sleeping, I dreamt of something."

Your interest is piqued as you shift closer to her every so slightly.

"That night on the rooftop," she says slowly, "Jiwoo's party... did I ever say anything weird to you?"

You freeze, fingers hovering over your keyboard, mid-sentence.

"...Define weird?"

She finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I dunno. I just... I remember laughing a lot. You said something about Jiwoo being a good kisser, and I remember thinking, 'God, I should kiss him just to wipe that smug off his face.'"

You blink, startled, a flush crawling up your neck as you wonder if the alcohol from that day carried over in her system. "You—what?"

"I didn't, obviously." She's still smiling, but her voice has dipped lower, softer. "But I thought about it. That's what I remember."

You sit back slowly, marvelling at the coincidence that just about 20 minutes ago you were thinking about the exact same thing.

"Yeah," you murmur, just loud enough for her to hear. "I remember that too."

Another rumble of thunder rolls outside, low and distant this time.

The silence is different now; it's charged, like a pulled string waiting to snap. She doesn't look away, and neither do you.

Her hair's still tousled from sleep, a few strands falling into her eyes. Her cheeks are faintly flushed, maybe from the warmth of the blanket, maybe from something else. And the curve of her mouth is soft and uncertain, almost as if she's holding something back, like she's waiting for you to break first.

You take her in like you're seeing her for the first time — really seeing her. The delicate slope of her shoulders exposed from the crop top, her toned body that elicited such wild thoughts in your head, and the way she absently rubs a thumb against the blanket's edge.

Her bare legs are folded up beneath her, one foot peeking out from under the fabric, toes curling slightly against the cushion. There's something unguarded about her, her usual sharp wit and lazy confidence replaced with a quiet vulnerability.

She looks at you the way someone might study a half-finished painting, unsure if it's worth finishing, but unable to stop staring.

Your heart starts to beat louder than the rain as you swallow.

"Yoon-Ah..."

Your voice is barely above a whisper.

She doesn't respond right away — just watches you, eyes searching yours. Then her gaze flicks down, just briefly, to your lips.

And that's all it takes.

You lean in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, but she doesn't. Her eyes flutter shut just before your lips meet, unsure at first, like she was still starting to test the reality of it. It's hesitant and exploratory, but because she was her, it felt more warm and real.

Her hand finds your sleeve, fingers lightly curling there, grounding herself. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss just slightly, careful, reverent, like either of you might vanish if you move too fast.

When she pulls back, it's only by an inch. Her breath is warm against your cheek, unsteady, and you can feel the flutter of her lashes as her eyes open.

And in the quiet, with only the rain bearing witness, she whispers, "Just so we're clear," her voice husky, "there's no alcohol talking this time.

You smile, heart still hammering. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."

You lean back in for another kiss, a deeper one this time. She meets you halfway, more determined now.

Her hand rises to your jaw, thumb brushing the edge of your cheekbone. And when your tongue brushes lightly against her bottom lip, asking permission more than anything else, she grants it, parting her lips just enough.

Just when you think you're in control, she overwhelms you. She pulls away from your lips as her hand moves down from your jaw to your chest, pushing you back so that your back is lying on the armrest.

She climbs onto you, straddling your lap as her arms wrap around your neck.

Then, the most unexpected thing comes from her. "You still need help with that assignment, don’t you?"

Not exactly a mood spoiler, but it definitely confused you. "What?"

She grins, tired droopy eyelids gone as her energy seems to have returned, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes. It’s the same one you’d seen so many times during her teasing sessions in the library while you were trying to concentrate. Except this time, she’s seated on your lap, your hands still on her waist and hers around your neck, her breath ghosting across your lips.

"You heard me. Didn’t you say you had trouble continuing that part?" She smirks, her voice back to that low and playful tone.

You'd told her about the requirements of your project, how you were supposed to write something with a heavier, mature tone, and how you were stuck at the steamy scene. "Right, but… why are you talking about it now?"

Her grin spreads wider than ever, her eyes sparkling with a mix of confidence and… seduction?

She leans in next to your ear, breath heavy, and drops an absolute bombshell on you. "Well, you write better when you improvise, don’t you? I can help with that."

You look back up at her, your eyes blown wide open.

Before you’re able to respond, she pulls you back in with her arms and kisses you again. This time, it’s bolder, hungrier, as if she found her confidence and was now projecting it onto you. You have no choice but to respond with equal passion, your tongues meeting in a slow, steady rhythm. Her hands travel all over your hair, pulling you in closer in bunches, making it hurt in a good way.

Your hands travel down from her waist, slipping below the waistband of her sweatpants. She doesn’t object, so you grab a handful of her ass and give it a light squeeze, eliciting a muffled moan, an exhale that just feels so damn good with her lips against yours.

It’s heated, it's passionate, and it’s going way too fast, probably a release of the months of tension since meeting each other.

Her hands leave the mess that your hair is, a mess that she created, and they move down and slip under your shirt. She starts caressing your abs, her touch sending jolts throughout your entire body that even the thunderstorm couldn’t bring out of you.

You decide to just slip out of your shirt completely, and Yoon-Ah follows suit, taking off her crop top, and her perky breasts drop with a bounce. They're small, but to you they're perfect. You take her left nipple into your mouth and she yelps in response, throwing her head back. It only fuels you more, her reaction. You slide her sweatpants off, leaving her clad in her panties.

Regretfully, your mouth leaves her breasts as you take her by the waist, carrying her off your lap, and you lay her down on the couch. You start worshipping every inch of her body, her toned yet soft midriff, her breathy moans and sighs growing in frequency as her body trembled beneath you at your every touch.

Seeing her in this state, your member hardens even further, as you now contemplate moving down further. You leave a trail of kisses down to the elastic waistband of her panties, before looking up at her, more for permission than anything.

"P-please… don’t stop.."

That’s all the confirmation you need. You slip her panties down, revealing her slick opening, wet from all the teasing.

"God, you’re dripping for me already." You slip a finger in her slick folds, more to tease than anything. She shudders, moans getting higher pitched. "Oh, fuck…"

You try putting another finger in, this time with greater difficulty. "Holy shit, how are you this tight?" You marvel at it as your fingers circle her clit with purpose.

"I—oh god—it’s my first time." She tries to bring her knees up, as if overwhelmed by the stimulation.

"I recall someone saying they 'had fun' with Jiwoo before," you say in a playful tone, before focusing on thrusting in and out of her warm folds as your fingers become coated with her juices.

"My first time with a guy, asshole… oh shit, don’t stop, please…" She grabs the cushion, tight, her eyes shut, focusing purely on the pleasure.

"I wasn't planning to," you smirk, fingers thrusting harder. She seems to enjoy the added intensity as she starts to grind her hips against your hand, trying to stimulate it further for her. She’s sweating somehow, even with the AC blasting cold air.

"Wait-please…I need… more," she begs, her hips moving harder. It's the ultimate ego boost for you as you take your fingers out.

She whimpers, actually whimpers, and moves her hands down to pleasure herself with the absence of yours. You move your lips to kiss the inside of her thighs, just beside her dripping opening, drawing a long, breathy moan from her.

You kiss the other side, before finally settling in on her pink folds, watching how her body is writhing with pleasure. Her hands rub harder, just above her clitoral hood, and you watch how her pussy glistens in the light of the dorm.

"Spread further for me, Yoon-Ah," you say as you move in closer to her core. She obeys with little hesitation, mind too preoccupied by the want — no, the need to feel good. Her legs part slowly, exposing even more of herself to you, and you nearly break right then and there.

You decide to reward her, pressing a soft kiss against her pussy, the musky, honey-like scent almost overrides your brain. She breathes heavily, tilting her head back further as she pulls her hand away. Your hand moves to grab the back of her thighs, allowing you to pull your tongue even deeper into her slit as you take a longer lick, tasting the sweetness directly from the source.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, please, don’t you ever stop," her voice shakes, trembling with pleasure.

Hearing her in this state only spurs you on even further. You focus on her clit as you mix kisses in with darts of your tongue, circling it with dedication.

You take in the whispers and moans, the ohmygods.They fuel your desire to continue, to make her feel even better, to make her come.

Your tongue flicks across her clit, and you involve your hand in, rubbing the nub just above where your tongue was working. It seems to work wonders as she starts gushing, her slick juices coating your mouth and chin.

"Don't stop, please, god… I’m so close…" she sighs, as if her brain had completely given up on trying to overcome the pleasure. Her body jerks every time your tongue tastes her clit, her body quivers with every rub of your fingers.

"That's it, Yoon-Ah. Just come for me," you murmur against her pussy. She tries to use her hands to bring herself closer to orgasm, the left one pulling you in closer by your hair, the right one rubbing her nipples, stimulating herself further.

With every lick across her folds, she grabs your hair tighter, pulling your head even closer. Her breathlessness and occasional low groan only make your cock throb in pain against your boxers even more.

"Wait… please, I'm almost there, fuck," she bites her lips, hard enough to draw blood, hands travelling all over your hair. You start rubbing the area just above her pussy harder, tasting her folds with renewed vigour, set on making her come.

"Oh, that’s it — oh fuck!" Her legs wrap around you, her thighs clamping around your head as she comes undone. She comes gushing like a waterfall as she tugs on your hair even harder, almost hard enough to pluck it out.

You taste her slick goodness, a mixture of sweet honey and tanginess. "Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to pull that hard," she says in between gasps, body still shuddering. "God, that was… Jiwoo definitely didn't make me cum like that."

You chuckle, "I'm not that experienced either, but I'm glad to be of service."

She lets out an airy laugh, still trying to catch her breath. "It's my turn now, right?"

You glance at her in careful anticipation, "You don't have to if you don’t feel like it."

She shakes her head with a grin on her face, "How could I not after you made me cum like that? We're not done with our improvisation yet, anyway."

You exhale audibly, your cock growing harder against the waistband of your boxers in excitement.

She notices the growing bulge in your pants before palming your member, her soft touch eliciting a low groan from you as your body shudders.

She pushes you back lightly, allowing you to rest your head on the couch, before pulling your shorts down and taking your cock out.

It throbs in reaction to hitting the cold air, before her warm, dainty fingers wrap around it. It jerks involuntarily against her hands, and she giggles.

"He's excited, isn’t he?" She teasingly rubs the tip, her fingers stroking the cock head, before pressing a kiss on it.

The irony of the complete 180 from before, when she was surrendered to your touch, isn't lost on you as she now completely took control over your pleasure.

You let out a low growl, "You fucking tease."

She smiles up at you, a sly look etched on her face, highlighted by the rectangular frames of her glasses. "Consider it payback for that Jiwoo comment just now."

Then, she takes you in her mouth, and it’s just pure heaven.

For someone's first time giving a blowjob, she almost seemed like an expert. Her cheeks hollow as she takes you deeper, almost reaching the base of your cock, occasionally taking you out of her mouth and pressing wet, sloppy kisses along the slide of your shaft.

It's too overwhelming, seeing her head bob up and down, working on your cock. You lie on the couch with one hand resting beneath your head, the other pushing her head further down your shaft.

"Fuck, you’re sure this is your first time?" Your voice drops low, almost like a growl, as you take in all the pleasure. She doesn��t respond; instead, she focuses solely on sucking your cock.

And whenever she pulls back up for air, a trail of spit follows her mouth. Then she licks your tip, tasting it like a lollipop, and when her eyes make contact with yours, that innocent, pouty look etched across her face, you almost come right there and then.

"Fuck, I’m so close, Yoon-Ah. Don’t stop, keep going for me, baby. You’re sucking my cock so good."

She seems to relish your praise as she starts to work the underside of your shaft with her tongue, whilst throating almost your entire length at the same time.

It doesn't take long before you feel like you’re about to burst, and you signal to Yoon-Ah, "Fucking hell, I’m gonna come..."

At that, she gets down from the couch, takes you out of her mouth and strokes you while on her knees. She slightly (adorably) tries to push up he breasts with her other arm.

It’s a sight to behold.

"Come all over me, I want it everywhere," she sticks her tongue out, eyes fluttering in anticipation.

Your cock twitches and jerks with her strokes, and that's when you know you’re about to burst.

"Ohh, fuck…"

Thick, heavy spurts shoot out from your cock, painting the frame of her glasses and her cheeks in white.

The next few spurts land on her breasts, coating her chest in thick globs. She spreads it all the way up to her collarbone and down to her stomach, her whole upper body now glistening in your sticky release, a sight that makes your cock twitch in her hands as she's still jerking you off.

The last few weak dribbles make their way down to her exposed mouth, and she tastes you with a few smacks of her lips.

You're left speechless at the sight of her, and she has the audacity to smile sheepishly back at you.

"Holy shit, that was —,"

The lock clicks.

You both freeze, unable to register what was going on. It’s not the soft kind of hesitation. It’s that primal, heart-stopping, full-body paralysis — the kind where your blood goes cold before your brain catches up.

Yoon-Ah comes to her senses first. "Fuck, is Jiwoo back early?"

You turn to look at her, genuinely horrified.

The door creaks open. A suitcase wheels across the threshold.

"...I'm back early!" Jiwoo calls cheerfully. "You guys will not believe what happened in Jeju—"

Her suitcase falls to the ground with a plop.

“Oh my god. Are you two—?”

END

Apologies, I meant to release this 3 days ago but it took a little longer than expected. The first few thousand words had already been written long ago; the smut was what I struggled with. The small details, as well, like figuring out the Korean university system, or how their national service worked. (I researched, and apparently it's the norm to enrol in university first before enlisting, and they don't even get to book out during NS. Weird huh, @sinswithpleasure @co-reborn).

I was also torn between making this a full-fledged fluff fic or smut fic, but in the end I decided to go for a build-up to light smut. It's not your typical "one-theme" one-shot, but there'll be more of those in future. This is just a fic that I really wanted to try writing and publishing.

I know there's an unsatisfying ending, but if you want a part 2 with Jiwoo, please vote above. Also, my smut writing needs work, that much I know. Hopefully, with my future stories exploring more themes and kinks, I'll be able to flesh it out more.

Anyways, feel free to leave a comment and ask about anything, that'd be greatly appreciated :)

Planted and spread by Moss 🌱

[ov105]

I dunno if I can really add anything. Though I've been writing since 2016, and I have seen my stories develop since then. I may just reiterate the points but it's for me too.

1.1) Write whatever the hell you want. Be it your cheesiest, corniest, smuttiest, or kinkiest work. It may not be the most realistic—yeah, cause it's fan fiction—but sometimes it helps ground your work too. Just don't cross any social boundaries.

3.1) To avoid writing slumps, treat the entire thing like work. You're much geared to productivity that way, as opposed to waiting for the "eureka!" that might never come. Just work on it day by day, but don't neglect your actual responsibilities, too.

Bitter pill for me to swallow as a fanfic writer

Sometimes I feel like my stories should get more interaction and more love.

But actually;

Art is subjective. Others may hate a story I love and vice versa. Just cause it's a personal fave of mine doesn't mean readers will adore it.

The readers don't owe me a damn thing. It was my choice to post the story. I should be more grateful for any amount love my story recieved.

The lesson here is to write because I enjoy doing it and not because I'm looking forward to how others will respond to it. There's joy in sharing a story with others that love the characters but the true joy should be in writing itself.

[ov105]

Hello OV/SQuiet, long time reader here. Glad to see you return, loving the new fics especially the Xinyu Tian one (manifesting more tripleS fics xD). Congratulations on graduating (funilly enough I started reading your fics when I was a senior in college and was graduating as well).

I know you said you won't make another fic and was satisfied with Minju (Limasawa Street), but any chance you'll change your mind and do another one for her again? I really miss reading Kim Minju Angel and another one from you would be great.

Ps. Don't mind the other ask I got clumsy fingers and press the send button right way haha

Alright, I got to be very honest but I don't really see myself writing Minju anytime soon. The fun part about writing Limasawa Street was that 1) was in the middle of the pandemic, and 2) IZ*ONE was big back then, so there was 3) so much material of Minju to exercise my imagination to.

Another part is she's pretty much stepped back from her actress activities (maybe she has no job rn, or working in a production). So even in my mind, she's pretty much take a step back too. TripleS is my ult right now too, so there's that.

[ov105]

Bro sticks to one multiverse for each character and i find it very oddly satisfying

It's the art of the one-shot. Simple, but always gets the itch scratched, the only strings you see are between those mentioned in the manuscript.