#Chaewon x oc

[magnagaruzenmon]

Masked Rider

Mwahahaha I got what I wanted a Kamen Rider Fic with Chaewon as the lead. Thanks @star-vader-dio, I’m very appreciative and hope you enjoy my spicy additions

I had always loved the tokusatsu genre ever since I was a kid, even though I was way outside the target demographic. So when an audition notice popped up for a new series looking for “foreign talent,” I immediately jumped at the opportunity.

The first round was simple—a voice audition. After submitting mine, I was thrilled (and a little nervous) to hear that the director himself would be flying out to California for the second round. I knew I had to make a good impression, so I dressed sharp: a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of neatly pressed slacks.

When it was finally my turn, the director sat me down and started walking me through the role. It was an antagonist—not exactly a villain in the traditional sense—someone who was the same species as the main villain but followed a different path. The character would eventually become a Kamen Rider himself and even occasionally help the hero.

“Oh, so kinda like Abarekiller?” I said without thinking.

The director and the translator both froze and stared at me in shock.

“You know Abaranger?” the director asked in broken English, his eyes wide.

I nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! And Kamen Rider, Ultraman—I love toku.”

The director’s expression lit up. He turned to the translator and rattled off a rapid, excited flurry of Japanese. The translator’s eyes widened in response before turning back to me.

“Can you spend a year in Japan?” they asked.

I nodded, a little wary but mostly exhilarated.

Over the next few weeks, everything changed. Originally, I had auditioned to simply voice a kaiju called Tsubarayamon, a fairly straightforward monster role. But after meeting me, the director was inspired to completely rewrite the character.

Instead of a minor monster, I was now going to play Hayato—a complex pseudo-antagonist who would start off as a mentor and helper to the hero in the first act, get captured and forcibly merged with the villains in the second, and finally emerge as a full-fledged Rider, an “extra hero,” by the climax of the series.

It was wild. And overwhelming. And exactly the kind of opportunity you don’t say no to.

So, I moved to Japan.

At first, the process dragged. Endless paperwork, background checks, visa applications. Everything moved at a snail’s pace—until, suddenly, it didn’t. One day, I got an urgent call that everything was approved and I needed to fly out immediately. Within a week, I was settled into a tiny apartment near Toei headquarters, armed with a short but very clear list of rules: be polite, work hard, stay out of trouble.

Soon after, I met Masuki Takata, the lead actress for the show. She was an older lady like mid 30s and carrying the heavy weight of being the first-ever female lead Rider in the franchise’s long history. From the start, she clung to me like a baby duck to its mother despite her being old enough to be a mom.

She knew the action beats and lines, but she didn’t really know Kamen Rider yet—the heart of it, the spirit behind it. Luckily, I did. Thanks to years of obsessively watching, analyzing, and loving the genre, I was able to help her connect with the role on a deeper level.

By the time filming began, Masuki had transformed into a natural. Watching her suited up, striking poses and delivering speeches with real conviction, made me feel a weird sort of pride.

As for me, I kept my head down. When I wasn’t filming, I wandered around Japan with my Nikon Zf, capturing snapshots of shrines, neon-lit streets, and hidden countryside temples. It was the adventure of a lifetime—and it had only just begun. The first day on set was chaos. Organized chaos, sure—but chaos nonetheless.

Crew members buzzed around adjusting lights and props, while costumers rushed around tightening belts, fixing capes, and double-checking every last piece of gear. It smelled like fresh paint, hairspray, and nervous energy. I was already half-suited up, waiting for my first blocking rehearsal, when I overheard Masuki chattering excitedly with one of the assistant directors.

When she spotted me lurking by the craft services table, she practically bounced over, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Guess what, guess what, guess what!” she sang. “We got two huge surprise castings for the villains!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Bigger than me?” I joked.

She rolled her eyes. “Way bigger. We’re talking Chaewon from Le Sserafim and Yujin from IVE!”

I blinked. “Wait—the Chaewon? Yujin?”

Masuki nodded so hard I thought she might give herself whiplash. “Yeah! I know them! Well, I know of them, but also a little personally. Kazuha and Rei were my students when they studied korean, and when I visited them in Korea, I met the whole crew a few times! They’re super sweet, you’re gonna love them!”

I gave her a skeptical look. I’d been around enough actors and celebrities to know that “sweet” didn’t always mean genuine. Most of them could turn on the charm like flipping a switch, but it didn’t mean they actually liked you. And idols? Idol training basically was acting school half the time.

“I’m sure they’re nice,” I said diplomatically, reaching for a coffee. “When the cameras are rolling, anyway.”

Masuki caught the doubt in my voice and narrowed her eyes mischievously. “You don’t believe me.”

“I just… don’t buy the whole ‘everyone’s best friends’ thing,” I shrugged. “It’s showbiz.”

Her grin turned downright evil. “Fine. I’ll prove it.”

Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm and dragged me across the set, weaving through lighting rigs and racks of costumes until we reached a cluster of people gathered near the villain set. Standing in the middle, dressed in sleek, villainous leather outfits that looked like something out of a sci-fi fashion show, were Chaewon and Yujin themselves.

Even out of the spotlight, they looked perfect—like they had been airbrushed into existence.

Masuki cleared her throat dramatically. “Chaewon-chan! Yujin-chan! I want you to meet my friend!”

Yujin beamed, flashing a professional idol smile. Chaewon, however, tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharp and assessing as she looked me up and down like she was sizing up competition.

I bowed politely out of reflex. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

Chaewon didn’t even bow back. Instead, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and said in clipped Japanese, “Hajimemashite.”

The tone was polite. The vibe was not.

It was like an invisible wall slammed down between us.

Masuki, bless her, was oblivious as she continued gushing about how great we’d all work together. Meanwhile, I locked eyes with Chaewon, and in that split second, we both seemed to reach a silent agreement:

We didn’t like each other.

At all.

It was going to be a very long shoot. Despite the rocky introduction, I was determined to stay professional. This wasn’t my first rodeo dealing with difficult coworkers—or, in this case, coworkers who thought I was the difficult one.

Still, I wasn’t looking forward to the first rehearsal.

The scene was simple enough: Hayato, my character, was supposed to clash with Chaewon’s villain character, who was some kind of corrupted warrior queen. We had to go toe-to-toe in a choreographed fight scene, with plenty of banter and smoldering tension.

Easy on paper. Awkward as hell in reality.

The stunt coordinator walked us through the sequence slowly. Block, parry, spin, fake punch. Chaewon moved like she’d been training for this her whole life—sharp, clean, focused. I had to admit, grudgingly, that she was good.

When it was time to run the scene for real, the cameras started rolling, and something bizarre happened.

It clicked. Instantly.

We fell into rhythm like we’d been sparring for years. Every fake hit landed perfectly; every dodge was timed to a fraction of a second. Our banter—her icy taunts, my gruff retorts—snapped with electric tension that even the director started losing his mind over.

“Sugoi!” he shouted from behind the monitor. “That’s it! That’s the energy I want!”

Masuki stood off to the side, grinning like she’d just set up the best prank in the world.

We finished the scene with a dramatic final clash, breathing hard, both of us glaring daggers at each other in character. The moment the director yelled, “Cut!”, the spell broke.

I stepped back, brushing imaginary dust off my sleeve. Chaewon immediately turned her back to me without a word.

“Pleasure as always,” I muttered under my breath.

I could’ve sworn I saw her shoulders stiffen.

For the next hour, we worked through more takes, and it was the same every time: On-camera, we were magnetic. The chemistry was undeniable. Sparks flew—sometimes literally, thanks to the pyrotechnics. Off-camera, we didn’t say a single word to each other unless absolutely necessary.

When we finally broke for lunch, Masuki bounded over, nearly vibrating with excitement.

“You guys are so amazing together!” she squealed, practically shaking my arm. “Like, seriously! You’re like rivals in an anime!”

“Yeah,” I said dryly. “If by rivals you mean ‘can’t stand the sight of each other.’”

Masuki just laughed and patted my shoulder like I was a particularly stubborn golden retriever.

“You’ll warm up to each other,” she said cheerfully. “Or you’ll kill each other. Either way, good television!”

I sighed, staring across the lot where Chaewon sat with Yujin, laughing over something on her phone without even glancing in my direction.

It was going to be a very long year. Lunch that day was supposed to be a quick break, but somehow Masuki roped me into joining her and Yujin at the cafeteria attached to the studio.

“Chaewon’s busy,” Masuki chirped as we waited in line. “She’s meeting up with Sakura and Kazuha at that trendy cafe across town.”

I shrugged, grabbing a tray. “Good for her,” I said, not bothering to hide the lack of enthusiasm.

Masuki giggled but didn’t press the issue. Instead, she introduced me properly to Yujin, who was already laughing at something one of the crew members had said.

Up close, Yujin was…different from what I expected. A lot of idols I’d met before had this slightly distant, polished air about them, but Yujin felt normal in the best way—genuine, quick to smile, and totally unbothered by the chaos around her.

“Finally, we meet properly!” she said in near-fluent English as we sat down with our food. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Masuki-chan.”

I raised an eyebrow at Masuki, who just grinned innocently.

“All lies, I hope,” I said, making Yujin laugh so hard she almost spilled her soup.

Lunch turned out to be way more fun than I’d expected. Yujin was sharp, funny, and full of energy without being overbearing. She was easy to talk to—the kind of person you could lose track of time chatting with. We swapped stories about working on set, favorite shows growing up (turns out she loved Power Rangers as a kid, which led to a long debate about which season was the best), and awkward fan encounters.

Masuki mostly listened, laughing along, occasionally jumping in with her own stories about the times she’d visited Korea.

It wasn’t long before the three of us were swapping bites of each other’s food like we’d been friends for years. Yujin even taught me a few silly Korean phrases—most of which I later learned were mildly insulting but all in good fun.

At one point, Masuki leaned back in her chair, hands behind her head, smiling like a proud matchmaker.

“I knew you two would get along,” she said smugly.

“Don’t get cocky,” I shot back, grinning. “One good lunch doesn’t mean you’re a genius.”

Yujin snorted into her tea. “I don’t know. She might be. She’s good at reading people.”

We were laughing again when I glanced out the window and caught sight of Chaewon returning from her lunch, sunglasses on, looking effortlessly cool and entirely uninterested in anything happening around her.

For a moment, our eyes met through the glass.

She didn’t wave. Neither did I.

Yujin followed my gaze and smirked knowingly.

“Don’t worry,” she said in a mock-whisper, leaning in conspiratorially. “She’s actually really nice… once you get past the ‘terrifying ice queen’ phase.”

I laughed under my breath, shaking my head.

Somehow, I doubted that phase was going to end anytime soon.

After lunch, we were back on set shooting the second half of the fight sequence. The afternoon sun filtered through the high windows of the studio, giving everything a hazy, surreal glow.

In between takes, while the crew reset the pyrotechnics, I wandered off toward the edge of the lot, stretching out my arms to keep loose. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be around, but there, leaning casually against a railing with her phone in hand, was Sakura.

I recognized her immediately—how could I not? Even if you weren’t a fan, Sakura had that kind of presence that stuck with you. She was one of those people who had been through it in the idol world and still managed to come out stronger on the other side.

She looked up as I approached, offering a polite nod.

“Hey,” I said, a little awkward. “You’re…Sakura, right?”

She smiled warmly. “Yeah. You’re Theo?”

“Yeah,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “It’s an honor, honestly. I’ve admired you since the IZONE* days. It’s really cool seeing you here.”

Her smile grew a little softer, a little more real. “Thank you. That…really means a lot.”

There was something surprisingly easy about talking to her. Maybe it was because we were about the same age, or maybe because, beneath all the fame and idol polish, Sakura felt grounded in a way that reminded me of friends back home.

We talked for a few minutes—nothing heavy, just light conversation about how wild filming schedules could get, and how different tokusatsu sets were compared to music video shoots. She laughed when I joked about still not understanding half the production lingo the staff threw around in Japanese.

“You’re doing great,” she said, tapping her phone against her palm. “You fit in better than you think.”

And when she smiled at me—really smiled—it was the kind of genuine thing you didn’t see a lot in this industry. I felt a surprising rush of gratitude.

“Thanks, Kura,” I said before I could think about it, using the nickname Masuki had thrown around earlier.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she didn’t correct me. Instead, she just gave a small, almost shy laugh.

And that was when I heard the footsteps.

Chaewon stormed across the lot, half still in costume, her leather boots thudding against the concrete. Her hair was slightly mussed from the action scene, a few strands falling loose across her forehead, and she looked— Well. She looked really good. Unfairly good. Annoyingly good.

“Why are you talking to Kura?” Chaewon blurted, stopping a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Her tone wasn’t playful. It was defensive. Almost accusing.

I blinked, caught completely off guard by the fire in her eyes.

“It’s called ‘being friendly,’ Chaewon,” I said, sharper than I intended.

She narrowed her eyes at me, mouth opening like she was about to say something else, but I barely registered it because— God help me— She looked so freaking hot when she was mad.

It was infuriating. And deeply, deeply distracting.

For a moment, all I could do was stand there like an idiot, my brain torn between wanting to argue and wanting to— Well. Definitely not something I should be thinking about on a professional set.

Sakura, bless her, stepped in before things could get weirder.

“I was just checking up on yo Chae,” she said smoothly, her voice light. “And Theo was being kind enough to keep me company.”

Chaewon’s jaw flexed slightly, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she shot me one last look—a mixture of suspicion and something I couldn’t quite place—before muttering, “We’re up again,” and stomping back toward the set.

I exhaled a long, slow breath, dragging my hands through my hair.

Sakura chuckled quietly beside me. “She’s…a little protective sometimes.”

“You don’t say,” I muttered, feeling my pulse still racing for reasons I really didn’t want to unpack right now.

I had a feeling working with Chaewon was going to be the death of me. That night, I ended up at a bar with Masuki and Yujin, tucked away in a cozy corner booth while the noise of the city buzzed outside.

I wasn’t drinking—someone had to be the responsible one—and besides, I liked keeping a clear head, especially when it came to making sure my friends got home safe. Masuki nursed some fruity cocktail decorated with a tiny umbrella, while Yujin, predictably, was trying to convince the bartender to make her something “dangerously sweet and slightly illegal.”

We were laughing over some dumb inside joke when, on the walk back to our apartments, Yujin suddenly piped up.

“Hey, Theo,” she said, nudging me with her elbow. “I saw you talking to Chae and Kura today. Does that mean you and Chaewon are friends now?”

I let out a short, humorless laugh, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets. “Not even close,” I said.

Yujin grinned mischievously.

“So what’s the deal, then?” she asked.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “My body is in love with her,” I admitted. “But my brain can’t stand her.”

Yujin burst out laughing so hard she nearly stumbled off the curb. Masuki just shook her head, used to this kind of chaos by now.

“God,” Yujin said, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes, “that’s perfect because…” She trailed off, smirking like she was sitting on the world’s juiciest secret.

“Because what?” I asked, suspicious.

Yujin bit her lip dramatically, then leaned closer.

“Chaewon feels the same way,” she said in a singsong voice.

I blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Yujin said, practically bouncing on her heels. “She was complaining about you after lunch. Said you’re infuriating…and also weirdly hot, and she hates that you know how to flip her over during fight choreography without even trying.”

I groaned, tipping my head back to look at the sky like it might offer me divine intervention.

“And you know what I think?” Yujin added, her voice turning mock-casual.

I gave her a look. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

She smirked wickedly.

“You two should just fuck. Seriously. That much tension? It’s not good for either of you.”

I barked out a laugh, shaking my head.

“Fat chance,” I said. “I value my sanity, thanks.”

Yujin just laughed harder, looping her arm through mine as we kept walking.

“Sure, Theo,” she said, grinning like she knew something I didn’t. “Keep telling yourself that.” A few days later, I was tucked away in one of the studio’s tiny sound booths, doing voiceover work for the monster side of my character.

It was a weird experience—matching guttural, growling sounds to scenes of someone else in heavy prosthetics and a rubber suit, throwing the Hero around like a rag doll. The booth smelled faintly of coffee and old rubber suits, and the only light came from a monitor looping the footage on repeat.

I’d just finished a particularly savage roar when the intercom crackled to life.

“Good, good,” the director’s voice said in accented but enthusiastic English. “You capture Tsubarayamon’s…inner rage very well.”

“Thanks,” I said, pulling off my headphones and stepping out of the booth for a breather. My throat was already raw, but I figured a few more takes and I’d be done for the day.

The director was standing outside with the translator, looking unusually animated. His hands flew around as he spoke rapidly in Japanese, his whole face lighting up like he’d just had a revelation.

The translator grinned and turned to me.

“The director…he’s thinking,” she said carefully, “about adding…romance.”

I blinked. “Romance?”

She nodded. “Between you…and Chaewon’s character.”

For a second, I thought I must have misheard her.

“Wait. Romance romance?” I asked, half-joking.

The translator laughed but nodded again, confirming my worst—and maybe also best—suspicions.

The director chimed in excitedly, gesturing between two imaginary people, then pressing his fists together.

“Good tension!” he said in English. “Explosive chemistry!”

I felt it then—an involuntary, traitorous hum under my skin, like every nerve ending had flickered awake at once. My heart gave a stupid little jolt I tried very hard to ignore.

Because yeah, my body? Absolutely thrilled at the idea. But my brain? My brain was already stifling a groan so deep it could have been classified as a natural disaster.

Of course they’d noticed the sparks. Of course they’d want to bottle that chaos and serve it to the audience like fine wine.

“Sounds…fun,” I said with a strained smile, trying very hard to sound like a professional and not a man moments away from losing his mind.

The director beamed, completely missing—or maybe deliberately ignoring—the undertone of panic in my voice.

“Good, good!” he said. “We start writing new scenes this week!”

As I trudged back into the booth to record my next line, I couldn’t help but wonder if this show was going to make me a star… Or just drive me completely insane.

Probably both. Later that night, I found myself flopped across the couch in Masuki’s apartment, recounting the day’s disaster to her and Yujin between mouthfuls of convenience store ramen.

“So let me get this straight,” Yujin said, poking at her noodles with her chopsticks. “They saw how much you and Chaewon want to kill each other and thought, ‘Perfect! Makeout sessions, but with emotional trauma!’”

“Basically,” I said, letting my head fall back against the cushion with a groan. “I’m doomed.”

Masuki was sitting cross-legged in the armchair, sipping green tea like a wise old sage. Well, slightly older sage—she wasn’t that much older than us, but she had the vibe of someone who had already survived several lifetimes of drama.

Yujin, meanwhile, was looking way too excited about the whole thing.

“You know what would fix this?” she said, grinning like she was about to drop the most obvious answer in the world.

I glanced at her warily. “I’m afraid to ask.”

Yujin leaned forward, slapping her hands on her knees for emphasis.

“You and Chaewon should just fuck the shit out of each other. Get it all out. Hate-sex style. Super passionate. Maybe break a table or something.”

I almost choked on my noodles.

“Yeah, no,” I said, coughing. “That’s not really my flow.”

Masuki snorted quietly behind her tea, but then set the cup down and shook her head.

“You two don’t need to jump each other’s bones,” she said, more patiently. “You need to talk. Like actual adults. Sit down somewhere quiet. No cameras. No other people stirring things up.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You seriously think talking would fix whatever…this is?”

Masuki shrugged. “Maybe not fix it. But it would help you both figure out why you’re so worked up about each other.”

Yujin leaned back dramatically, throwing her arms over the back of the couch.

“Boooooring,” she said. “But okay. Fine. Talk first, then fuck.”

I threw a pillow at her.

Masuki just laughed, standing up to grab more tea from the kitchen.

“You can’t shortcut everything, Yujin,” she called over her shoulder.

Yujin caught the pillow and grinned at me. “Shortcutting’s more fun, though.”

I sighed, scrubbing my hands over my face.

Maybe Masuki was right. Maybe actually talking to Chaewon—really talking—could save us both from whatever slow-motion trainwreck we were hurtling toward.

But deep down, a small, reckless part of me wondered if Yujin might not be a little right too. The next few days were…strangely peaceful.

With Chaewon and Yujin off performing at their group concerts, the production schedule shifted. Masuki and I ended up filming scenes that focused more on our characters’ early bond—the mentor-mentee dynamic the audience was supposed to fall in love with before all the chaos later.

It was a relief, honestly. No lingering death glares from Chaewon. No snide comments. Just straightforward work, the way it was supposed to be.

Masuki was easy to act with, too. She had this natural way of pulling you into the moment, making the lines feel real even when the dialogue was something ridiculous like, “The spirit of courage burns within you!” or “You must trust the power of our bond!”

Between takes, we hung out by the monitors, sipping canned coffee and laughing about how none of our characters seemed to believe in doing anything the easy way.

“You know,” Masuki said one afternoon, flipping through the script revisions while we waited for lighting to reset, “they’re starting to really set up the Hayato and Rina subplot.”

Rina being Chaewon’s character.

I leaned over her shoulder to look. Sure enough, tucked between fight choreography notes and costume updates, there were new scenes marked in red: — Hayato struggles to deny growing feelings for Rina. — Rina wrestles with conflicting loyalty to villains and attraction to Hayato.

I groaned quietly, sinking into my chair.

Masuki laughed. “You’re acting like it’s a death sentence.”

“Feels like one,” I muttered. “It’s gonna be a miracle if we can say two words to each other without starting an argument, let alone sell a romance.”

She gave me a sly look. “Sometimes fighting is the romance.”

I snorted. “You sound like Yujin now.”

“Good. She’s right,” Masuki said simply, stretching her arms overhead. “Real chemistry is messy. That’s what makes it interesting.”

I didn’t have a good comeback for that. Mostly because I knew, deep down, she was probably right.

Still, I shoved the thought aside and focused on the scene we were about to shoot—a simple training montage where Hayato teaches the Hero how to fight smarter, not harder. It was nice. Easy. No messy emotions to trip over.

But even as I moved through the choreography, somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop picturing that stupid, fiery glint Chaewon got in her eyes when she was mad.

And wondering how the hell I was supposed to fake falling for her… When I wasn’t sure it was going to stay fake at all.

The last day before Chaewon and Yujin were due back was packed tight with one of our most important shoots yet: Hayato’s merging sequence.

The setup was dramatic as hell, and everyone on set could feel the tension crackling in the air.

Hinata—Masuki’s character—had just lost a brutal fight against the villains. She was bloodied, exhausted, and half-conscious on the ground. The main villains loomed over her, ready to drag her off to be “reconditioned”—code for mind control, brainwashing, whatever nightmare the writers had cooked up.

Cue me—Hayato—stumbling onto the battlefield, defiant but visibly wrecked from the earlier fight scenes we’d filmed that morning.

We ran through it once, the cameras rolling.

Masuki, ever the pro, made Hinata’s fear palpable—eyes wide, lip trembling, hand reaching out helplessly toward me. She had always played Hinata’s connection to Hayato like he was her anchor, her brother figure. Losing him wasn’t just a tactical blow; it was emotional devastation.

I charged forward, shoving myself between her and the villains.

Right on cue, the Tsubarayamon monster suit actor—this massive guy named Kenji—lurched into the frame, all snarling and thrashing around with massive claws.

This was where it got tricky: the merging sequence.

I gritted my teeth and threw a punch at the monster…only for Kenji to catch my fist midair.

We struggled, choreography rehearsed to look messy and desperate. Then came the “fusion effect” moment. CGI would handle most of it later, but for now, I had to act like something invisible was crawling into my skin—twisting me from the inside out.

I dropped to my knees, convulsing, clutching my chest. The practical effects team hit a hidden trigger that sent smoke curling out of my costume.

Masuki crawled toward me, gasping out Hayato’s name, but she was dragged back by the villains.

Meanwhile, I slowly rose to my feet… But it wasn’t really Hayato standing there anymore.

I lowered my head, my hair falling in my face for effect, and when I looked up, my expression was cold. Unrecognizable.

Without a word, I turned and walked toward the villains, now standing at their side like I’d always belonged there.

Behind me, Masuki’s anguished cries filled the soundstage.

The director yelled, “Cut!” but nobody moved for a second, the scene had landed that hard.

Masuki scrambled up first, shaking off the dust from the fake rubble. “That was insane,” she said, grinning. “You looked terrifying.”

I gave her a half-smile, my heart still pounding in my chest. “Felt like I was gonna pass out halfway through,” I admitted, laughing.

The next few scenes were quicker.

I filmed a short shot of Hayato—well, Tsubaraya now—staring blankly at a city skyline backdrop, flexing his fingers like he was getting used to a new body.

Then we jumped into the next key moment: the big bad of the season, a masked warlord in crimson armor, calling Tsubaraya via a slick communicator prop.

I stood on the villain base set, dim and smoky, answering the call with a sharp nod.

“You have demoralized the enemy,” the warlord’s voice rumbled through the speaker. “Excellent. You are one of us now. Come. Claim your new place.”

A costumer swooped in between takes, handing me a sleek new outfit: darker armor plates, a longer cape, and a belt that would eventually become the Kaiju Driver once I built it in the next episode.

We got a few slow, ominous shots of me slipping into the new gear, glancing into a broken mirror prop at my distorted reflection—Hayato’s face still there, just…buried under layers of corruption.

By the time the director called it a wrap for the day, I was drained. Physically. Emotionally.

But for the first time in a while, it wasn’t because of Chaewon.

Tomorrow, though? She’d be back. And the real battle would start.The day of Chaewon’s return was harder than I expected.

I wasn’t ready for it—the way the air shifted when she stepped back onto set, or the way my body reacted without asking my permission.

It was like I’d missed her. Like something hot and restless had been sitting under my skin this whole time, waiting for her to come back.

But she didn’t look like the Chaewon who used to scowl at me over every minor inconvenience. She looked softer. Gentler. Like the edge had been sanded off just a little during her time away.

And it scared the hell out of me.

So I shoved all of it aside and threw myself into the work. Into Tsubaraya.

We were filming on the Villains’ headquarters set—a towering, cold interior dressed up like the inside of a warship, with a fake skyline of a crumbling city projected outside the windows.

I walked in slow, controlled, the new villain costume feeling like it was molding itself to me more with every step.

At the far end of the room, VonKaizer—played by a veteran actor with the stage presence of a king—stood overlooking the city.

He turned as I approached.

“Ah, Tsubaraya,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. “It’s good to see you comfortable with your new host. How does it feel?”

I let a wicked little smirk tug at my mouth.

“It’s a head rush, boss,” I said, letting my voice drip with arrogance. “This body is so sensitive. So…squishy. And the emotions—” I gave a low chuckle, stepping into the character fully, “—they’re dialed up to fifteen. It’s intoxicating.”

Without thinking, I turned to Rina—Chaewon’s character—and reached out, lifting her chin between my fingers.

It wasn’t in the script.

But it felt natural. Dangerous. Electric.

“How do you handle all of this, Rina?” I purred.

Chaewon’s eyes widened—genuine surprise flashing across her face before she quickly buried it beneath Rina’s cold mask.

“You get used to it, Tsubaraya,” she said, voice stern but a touch unsteady. “But do try to keep your new human impulses under control.”

I felt a ripple—Chaewon bleeding through the character for a second—and it stiffened something inside me, made the boundary between Theo and Tsubaraya blur just a little more.

I straightened, pulling away with a smirk that felt too real.

“I think the first thing I’m gonna do is cause some carnage,” I said, turning back to VonKaizer. “Rattle the humans a bit. Bait out Astra…see what this body and this power can really do.”

VonKaizer smiled approvingly and stepped forward, holding out a mass-produced Driver.

“Go for it,” he said. “But don’t forget your weapon.”

I shook my head once, a little too sharp, and revealed my own Driver—something new, sleek and cruel-looking, dripping with crimson malice.

The prop department had outdone themselves. It practically oozed villain energy.

VonKaizer laughed darkly, and I gave a mock salute before striding out of frame.

Chaewon—no, Rina—followed me off-screen, her steps quick and angry.

As soon as we were out of camera range, she hissed under her breath, still in character but with a dangerous edge of reality, “What the hell was that about?”

I turned slowly, softening my steps like a cat cornering prey.

“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning innocence, my voice soft and unbothered.

Rina’s—Chaewon’s—eyes narrowed into slits.

“You touched me,” she snapped. “You never touch me.” Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling faster than it should have been.

I stepped closer, letting Tsubaraya’s predatory charm leak through.

“Well,” I said lazily, “things are different now. This body…it’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before. I don’t know what I’m doing. But I can tell you this…”

I tilted my head, smiling in a way that was half-sincere, half-dare.

“I like it. It’s exhilarating. And you, my darling Rina…” I paused, savoring the way she stiffened. “You look ravishing.”

Before she could find a comeback, I blew her a quick, mocking kiss, spun on my heel, and stalked away.

The director’s voice rang out: “Cut!”

The tension snapped instantly, and I exhaled hard, feeling the lines between Theo and Tsubaraya still buzzing uncomfortably close.

The director came striding over, smiling so wide it looked like his face might split in half.

“Theseus-san,” he said in rapid Japanese, “that was incredible! The way you moved—the confidence, the swagger—you had it all. Keep it up!”

I bowed slightly, still catching my breath. “Thank you, sir,” I said.

He clapped my shoulder, beaming. “No—thank you! Fantastic!” he added, tossing the last word in English with a proud grin.

I laughed, finally letting myself relax as the crew began breaking down the set.

But somewhere deep inside, a small uneasy voice whispered:

That wasn’t just Tsubaraya back there. That was me. The cab ride back to the apartment complex was the longest ten minutes of my life.

Chaewon and I sat on opposite sides of the backseat, arms crossed, eyes forward, a wall of hostile silence between us thick enough to suffocate.

I could feel her in every cell of my body.

The slight twitch of her fingers when she was irritated. The way she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs. The faint scent of her shampoo—something sharp and floral—that made my brain swim.

And underneath it all, this weird, chaotic rush of emotions pounding against my ribs like a trapped animal.

Anger. Frustration. Want.

I dug my nails into my palm and focused on the streetlights streaking past the windows, trying to breathe.

When the cab finally pulled into the lot of our apartment complex, I practically threw some yen at the driver and stumbled out into the cool night air, desperate to shake the static clinging to my skin.

But before I could make a break for the elevators, Chaewon’s voice, quiet but razor-sharp, cut through the night:

“Theo. Come up with me.”

I froze.

Turned.

She was standing a few steps away, arms loose at her sides, her face unreadable except for the slight tremble of her lips.

Everything logical inside me screamed no. Screamed walk away. Screamed this is a bad idea.

But my body had other plans.

My legs moved before my brain did, carrying me silently into the elevator beside her. We didn’t speak the entire ride up. Just stood there, side by side, the small space around us crackling with barely restrained energy.

When we reached her floor, she opened her door without a word and walked inside.

I hesitated for a half-second.

Then followed.

The door clicked shut behind me, sealing us into the thick, electric air.

I barely had time to register the neat little apartment—the cozy lighting, the faint scent of tea and flowers—before she turned around and slapped me.

It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt. But it was enough to make my head whip to the side and my blood roar in my ears.

Before I could react—before I could even think—she grabbed me by the front of my shirt, yanked me down, and crashed her mouth against mine.

The kiss was messy. Angry. Hungry.

I staggered back a step from the force of it, my hands finding her waist instinctively. Her nails scraped along my jaw as she kissed me harder, almost like she was trying to devour the months of tension between us all at once.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought, this is a terrible idea. But that thought burned away the second she moaned low in her throat and pressed herself flush against me.

Clothes came off in a desperate, clumsy rush—fingers fumbling, mouths barely breaking apart long enough to breathe.

And then we were in her bed, the world narrowing down to heat and hands and teeth and us.

Every kiss, every bite, every thrust was a war we were fighting with our bodies instead of our words.

And for the first time since I met Chaewon, we weren’t battling against each other.

We were battling with each other—for something.

When it was over, we lay tangled in her sheets, the only sound our ragged breathing and the soft hum of the city outside.

I stared at the ceiling, heart hammering, brain whirling.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t her.

And yet…

I turned my head to look at her, expecting regret. Shame. Maybe even anger.

Instead, Chaewon just stared back at me—her face flushed, her hair a mess, her eyes dark and unreadable.

Neither of us said a word.

Neither of us knew how.

We sat in her bed for a while as we both tried to find the words to say. To write this off as a one time thing but my body and my heart desired more and in the few glances I took of her I could tell she felt the same way. I thought maybe—maybe—after that first time, the tension would bleed out of us. That we’d be able to act normal again.

But I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

It started with a glance. Then a scoff. Then a muttered insult.

We were still naked, sheets tangled around us, and already we were at each other’s throats again.

“You’re such an asshole,” Chaewon muttered, pulling the sheet around herself like armor.

“And you’re a brat,” I snapped back, raking a hand through my hair.

I meant to get up. I meant to grab my clothes and leave before either of us could say something even worse.

But then she gave me that look—half-glare, half-dare—her eyes dark and challenging under her messy hair.

And suddenly I wasn’t walking away.

I was on her.

Chaewon gasped as I slammed her back into the mattress, the sheet slipping free from her body. My hands pinned her wrists above her head, and she writhed beneath me, her nails raking down my arms.

“You’re impossible,” she spat, even as she arched into me, her body burning hot against mine.

“And you’re infuriating,” I growled, ducking down to capture her mouth in a brutal kiss.

This wasn’t gentle. This wasn’t sweet. This was punishment. This was relief.

We clawed at each other like we couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t erase the months of tension in just one night.

Her legs locked around my hips. I bit down on the soft skin of her shoulder, leaving a mark. She tugged my hair hard enough to make my eyes water.

Every thrust was a fight. Every kiss a surrender.

Chaewon cursed my name like it was a prayer. I growled hers like it was the only word I knew.

And somewhere in the middle of all that fury and fire, something inside me cracked wide open.

Because underneath the anger—underneath the desperate, punishing pace—there was something else.

Need. Want. Something dangerously close to love.

We came together in a tangle of limbs and shouts, both of us trembling from the sheer force of it.

For a moment, the world went silent. Just the sound of our breathing, ragged and raw.

I collapsed beside her, heart slamming against my ribs, staring up at the ceiling like it could give me answers.

Chaewon lay stiff beside me, her chest rising and falling fast, her fists clutching the sheets like she was afraid she’d lose herself completely if she let go.

Neither of us spoke.

We didn’t have to.

Our bodies had already said everything we were too proud—or too scared—to admit. I drifted awake slowly, the morning light creeping through the curtains in thin golden beams.

For a second, I didn’t know where I was. The sheets were soft. The room smelled faintly like flowers and skin. And there was a weight pressed against my side—small, warm, breathing steadily.

Then I felt her move.

Chaewon.

Still half-asleep, she shifted closer, her nose brushing against my bare chest as she nuzzled into me with a sleepy whine.

“Mm…” she mumbled, voice thick and husky from sleep, “…of course you’re warm and cuddly in the morning…”

She said it like it was a complaint, but her arm tightened around my waist anyway, like she had no intention of letting go.

I stayed absolutely still, my heart hammering so hard I was surprised it didn’t wake her up completely.

If I said anything, if I moved wrong, the moment would shatter. She’d remember who we were supposed to be—enemies orbiting the same star—and she’d push me away.

But right now?

She wasn’t Chaewon the fighter. Or Chaewon the brat. Or even Rina the villainess.

She was just Chaewon.

Soft. Warm. Vulnerable.

And god help me, I never wanted to move again.

I let out the smallest breath of a laugh, barely a puff of air against her hair, and muttered under my breath, “You’re not so bad yourself, brat.”

She made a small grumpy sound in the back of her throat but didn’t pull away. Just buried herself even deeper against me, like she was chasing the heat she pretended to hate.

And for the first time since we met, I let myself think—really think—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more here than anger and lust.

Maybe, buried under all the fighting and tension, there was something real growing between us.

And terrifyingly enough… I didn’t want to run from it. Chaewon stirred first after we nodded off again.

I felt her body tense against mine, her hand flexing against my chest like she was waking up into a memory she wasn’t sure was real.

Then, suddenly, she bolted upright with a gasp. I blinked up at her, still groggy, still drunk off the scent of her and the heat of her body.

“Shit,” she muttered, running a hand through her tangled hair. “I have call time in like… thirty minutes.”

She swung her legs off the bed, cursing softly in Korean as she scrambled for her clothes.

I should have stayed in bed. I should have let her go.

But when she stood up—naked, gorgeous, hair wild, cheeks flushed from sleep—my body made the decision for me.

Without even thinking, I slipped out of bed and followed her into the bathroom.

Chaewon caught my reflection in the mirror and froze, a towel half-wrapped around herself.

We stared at each other. Tension snapped back into the air, heavy and electric, like a struck match waiting to catch fire.

I took a step closer. So did she.

The towel dropped to the floor, forgotten.

In the next heartbeat, my hands were on her, pulling her against me, mouths colliding in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and desperation.

The shower was already running, steam filling the tiny room, fogging up the mirror. I backed her into the stall without a second thought, the hot water crashing over us as she moaned into my mouth.

It was messy. Hungry. Out of control.

She clawed at my shoulders, nails leaving faint red trails. I gripped her hips like if I let go, she’d disappear.

Chaewon pressed her forehead against mine, panting, her breath hot against my skin. “Fuck,” she whispered, voice wrecked and beautiful. “This is so stupid.”

“Yeah,” I rasped, kissing the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the soft hollow beneath her ear. “But it feels so good.”

And it did. God, it did.

The slick heat of the water, the urgent press of her body against mine—it was overwhelming, addictive, like we were trying to memorize each other before the real world crashed back in.

I lifted her easily, bracing her against the wall, and she wrapped her legs around me, biting down on my shoulder to muffle a cry.

We moved together like we had something to prove. Like we were trying to burn out whatever was happening between us before it swallowed us whole.

But it was too late for that. Way, way too late.

We came undone together, shuddering through it, holding onto each other like lifelines.

And when it was over, when our breathing slowed and she finally slid down to stand on trembling legs, she rested her forehead against my chest for just a second longer than necessary.

Then, without a word, she pulled away.

Chaewon toweled off quickly, threw on fresh clothes, and shot me a glance that was equal parts longing and defiance.

“I have to go,” she said, voice tight.

I nodded, even though every part of me screamed for her to stay.

She hesitated in the doorway—just for a second—before disappearing down the hall.

Leaving me alone in the steaming bathroom, heart pounding, wondering what the hell we had just done…

…and what the hell was going to happen next.

After wandering the streets for a while — still riding the strange, electric high from this morning — I remembered I was out of toothpaste. Very glamorous.

I ducked into a corner convenience store, grabbed a couple of tubes, and then let myself drift down the aisles, picking up a few other things I needed without much thought.

Halfway through checking out, I glanced at the time.

Chaewon should be wrapping up filming soon.

The thought came so naturally — so reflexively — it almost startled me. Like my brain had already filed her under important people to think about without even asking for permission.

I stood there at the register for a second, hesitating… then just sighed, gave in, and paid. Grabbing a bag, I headed down the street, found a little food stand I liked, and ordered a second meal. Not for me. For her.

It just made sense. Of course she’d be sick of catering. I was sick of it too.

I hopped on the train toward the studio without overthinking it. At least, that’s what I told myself.

When I got there, Chaewon was standing near the lot entrance, fiddling with her phone.

She looked up as I approached — and the surprise on her face quickly melted into something softer. That warm, brilliant smile that punched me right in the gut every damn time.

“Ah, you shouldn’t have,” she said, grinning as she took the bag from my hand.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even as my chest warmed at the way she beamed up at me. “Figured you’d be tired of the catering. I thought about you.”

Chaewon’s whole face lit up even more. “Thank you, Oppa,” she said sweetly, slipping into the honorific with such casual affection it made my pulse stutter.

Then she hugged me — quick, tight, instinctive — like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She stayed close after that, unwrapping her sandwich and nibbling on it while we stood together, chatting easily as we waited for Masuki and Yujin to finish shooting a fight scene.

“So,” Chaewon said after a few bites, licking a bit of sauce from her thumb, “what do we do now?”

I shrugged, smiling helplessly. “I like you. A lot. And I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do about that.”

Chaewon laughed — that bright, slightly mischievous laugh that made you feel like you were sharing a secret with her. “Everybody loves me,” she said dramatically, tossing her hair. “Haven’t you seen all my flags?”

I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, well… I have one too, brat.”

She scrunched her nose at me — that devastating, heart-stealing gesture that had probably started a hundred fanwars. “You’re not so much of an asshole after all,” she teased, nudging me lightly with her shoulder.

I grinned. “Are you finally coming around?”

She bit into her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before saying, “You’re the cold one, you know. When we first met, you glared at me. I thought you hated my guts.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? When we first met, you looked at me like I was a cockroach.”

Chaewon groaned dramatically, slapping my arm. “Only because you looked at me like you wanted to stab me!”

I laughed, loud and genuine. “Resting angry face. Genetic curse. Sorry, brat.”

Chaewon rolled her eyes with an exaggerated huff. “Oh, you’re so funny,” she said, deadpan.

I just shrugged again, grinning. “I try.”

She paused then, sandwich halfway to her mouth, and looked at me with something a little more serious in her eyes.

“I can see why Yujin and Sakura kept telling me to give you a chance,” she said softly.

The words hit me harder than I expected. I laughed a little awkwardly, trying to deflect the rush of heat I felt. “Helps when you’re super fun too,” I said, nudging her playfully.

Chaewon flushed slightly at the compliment, ducking her head in a way that made her seem almost shy. Without really thinking about it, she leaned closer, our shoulders brushing.

And that’s when I realized — too late — that we were being filmed.

I turned my head just in time to see the director standing behind a handheld camera, grinning like a kid who just found buried treasure.

He smirked at us and called out, “One more take!” in a sing-song voice.

Chaewon gasped and covered her face with her hands, laughing. I just shook my head, chuckling.

Of course.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Attitude

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader

word count: 13K

It's Friday.

The office is dead quiet, the kind of silence that feels too heavy after hours. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale, washed-out light on the few desks still occupied. Yours is one of them.

You’re slouched over your keyboard like roadkill, head resting on your folded arms. Everything feels muted—your energy, your mood, the world in general. You haven’t eaten all day, and the cold leftover coffee in your mug tastes like despair.

But before you can continue to suffocate in your cocoon of sadness and self-pity, her sharp voice cuts in:

“Wow. You look like shit.”

You lift your head just enough to glare at Kim Chaewon. She’s leaning against the side of your desk, arms crossed, her sharp bob framing her face like she stepped off a Pinterest board for "hot office chic." Her tailored pants sit perfectly on her hips, sharp creases cutting down her turned legs, emphasizing every curve. The blouse she’s wearing is neatly tucked in, accentuating that unfairly tiny waist. The coat? New, for sure—some designer nonsense, knowing her. Her expression is as sharp as ever, her dark eyes cutting right into you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, dropping your head back down. “Really needed that.”

She doesn’t move. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

You groan into your arms. “Just tired, okay? Long day.”

Chaewon snorts, a sound that’s half amusement, half derision. “Yeah, because you’re known for working so hard. Sure.”

“I’m serious.” You finally sit up, running a hand through your hair. It doesn’t matter how you try to play this; she can see right through you.

She always does.

“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice softens, just a bit, but there’s still an edge. “I know something’s up. You’ve been moping around all week like someone kicked your dog.”

“It’s nothing.”

She tilts her head, her sharp gaze narrowing. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

You tense up, your fingers clenching around the edge of your desk. “I, uh… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I knew it.” She exhales through her nose, shaking her head like she’s disgusted. “God, I told you this was going to happen.”

There it is. The last thing you need: Chaewon’s patented I Told You So energy. “Seriously, I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking in a way that betrays you completely.

“Oh, you’re fine?” She raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Cool. That’s why you look like someone just ran over your soul.”

You press your palms into your eyes, trying to block her out. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well, tough.” She uncrosses her arms, resting a hand on her hip. “Let’s go get a drink.”

You blink up at her. “What?”

“A drink,” she repeats, like you’re an idiot. “You know, alcohol? That thing you drown your sorrows in?”

“Why?”

“Because sitting here sulking is pathetic, and I can’t stand looking at it anymore.” Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smirk. “And let’s be real, you’ll be slightly less annoying when you’re drunk.”

You hesitate. The thought of spending more time with Chaewon—queen of snark, master of unsolicited opinions—isn’t exactly appealing. But then again, neither is going home to your empty apartment.

And besides, she is your friend after all. Even though she seems to care about you in a way that is particularly hers.

“Fine,” you mutter, grabbing your bag and coat. “One drink.”

Her smirk widens. “Make it two. You’re going to need it.”

—

The two of you walk down the hallway toward the elevators, your steps heavy, hers sharp and purposeful. The silence stretches between you, awkward and suffocating, so you try to fill it with literally anything else.

“So… did you see the email about the quarterly report updates?” you ask, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Looks like the finance team is gonna implode again.”

Chaewon glances at you, her expression blank. “Uh-huh.”

Encouraged by the lack of immediate judgment, you keep going. “Yeah, they keep messing up the projections. I mean, how hard is it to use a spreadsheet, right?” You force a chuckle. “Maybe we should give them remedial Excel classes or something. Like, step one: stop sucking.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, noncommittal.

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye. She’s staring straight ahead, her lips twitching like she’s holding back a laugh—or gearing up to kill you. It’s hard to tell with her.

The elevator dings, and you step inside, immediately finding something—anything—to stare at. The buttons, the wall, the floor.

God, the floor is fascinating.

Is that gum?

No, just a weird stain.

“Okay, what the hell are you doing?” Chaewon’s voice slices through the awkward silence, sharp and irritated.

“What?” You glance at her but quickly look away again. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She crosses her arms, leaning against the side of the elevator, her dark eyes locked on you. “You’re acting like a guilty teenager. What’s your deal?”

“I’m not—” You pause, frowning at the ceiling now like it holds the answers to life’s mysteries. “I’m not doing anything.”

Her gaze feels like a laser, burning into the side of your head. You swallow hard, desperate to shift gears. “Hey, uh, did you cut your hair?” You gesture vaguely at her head, avoiding her eyes. “Looks shorter.”

Chaewon’s brow furrows, then her lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Wow. You’re really gonna do this, huh?”

“Do what?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“Run away from the conversation like a little bitch.”

Fuck.

“I’m not running away,” you mumble, staring at the floor again.

She straightens, taking a small step closer, and you can feel her eyes boring into you. “Oh, you absolutely are. It’s almost impressive, honestly.”

The elevator dings again, signaling you’ve reached the ground floor, and you practically lunge for the door. Anything to escape the suffocating space and her relentless gaze. But as you walk out, her voice follows, resonant and unforgiving:

“You know you can’t avoid this forever, right?”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. You’re not sure if the drink she promised will make this better—or worse. Probably worse.

Now outside the building, the city feels colder than usual, the January air slicing through your thin coat. You jam your hands deeper into your pockets as Chaewon strides ahead, leading the way to a bar you’ve been to a few times after work. It’s nothing fancy—dim lighting, common wooden tables, decent drinks. The kind of place you don’t have to think too much about, which suits you fine right now.

She’s quiet for once, her steps crisp against the sidewalk. You trail behind, trying to figure out how to fill the silence. Talking feels safer than letting her drag you into emotional territory.

“I, uh, I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift lately,” you blurt out.

That gets her attention.

She slows, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah. You said I should give her a shot, remember? You’re always going on about her lyrics or whatever.”

Chaewon’s mouth quirks, like she’s fighting a smile. “And?”

“And…” You hesitate, feeling oddly self-conscious. “She’s good, okay? I’ve had Blank Space on repeat all week.”

At that, she lets out a short laugh, the sound cutting through the cold. “Oh my god. That’s such a basic choice.”

“Hey, it’s catchy,” you protest, grinning despite yourself. “And relatable. You know, the whole ‘darling, I’m a nightmare’ vibe.”

“Relatable?” She tilts her head, smirking. “You think you’re the nightmare, or…”

“Can we not analyze my music choices right now?” you cut in, shaking your head.

For a moment, the mood feels lighter. She’s distracted, you’re distracted, and the tension hanging between you starts to dissolve. But just as you’re beginning to think you’ve dodged the worst of it, she pulls the rug out from under you.

“So,” Chaewon says casually, “about your relationship…”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Seriously? I thought we were bonding over Taylor Swift!”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” She stops walking, turning to face you with her arms crossed. Her eyes are sharp again, cutting right through your defenses. “When did it end?”

You hesitate, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“That’s what I thought,” she says, filling the silence.

Desperate to steer the conversation away, you blurt out, “What about you? Any big plans for 2025?”

She blinks, caught off guard for half a second before narrowing her eyes. “Nice try.”

“No, really. What’s the plan? New job? New hobbies? Finally learning to not be such a pain in the ass?”

Chaewon rolls her eyes but humors you. “I don’t know. Probably more of the same. Working, eating overpriced sushi, babysitting your emotional meltdowns.”

“I don’t have meltdowns,” you mutter.

“Sure you don’t.”

You both start walking again, the bar now just a block away. The cold bites at your face, but her presence feels oddly warm, even when she’s being difficult.

Then, she strikes. “When did it end?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and this time, there’s no escape. You shove your hands deeper into your coat pockets, staring at the ground as you mutter, “Four days ago.”

Chaewon stops again, her boots scuffing against the pavement. “Four days?” she repeats, her voice softer now.

You nod, your throat tight.

She doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to do next. Her usual sharpness fades, replaced by something you can’t quite name.

“Come on,” she finally says, her voice quieter. “Let’s get that drink.”

You follow her into the bar, bracing yourself for whatever’s coming next.

—

The bar is dimly lit, the kind of place where the furniture doesn’t match and the music is just loud enough to drown out awkward silences. It smells like spilled beer and fried food, comforting in a low-effort kind of way. You follow Chaewon to a corner table, sliding into the seat opposite her. Your back is hunched, arms resting on the table like they might just hold you together.

Chaewon doesn’t even ask what you want. She waves down the bartender and orders your usual—a whiskey soda—and something for herself. The fact that she remembers your drink feels both reassuring and mildly irritating, like she’s been quietly cataloging your life just to one-up you at moments like this.

When she comes back with the drinks, she slides yours across the table, taking her own seat. “Here,” she says, setting her glass down with a little more force than necessary. “Drink. You need it.”

You pick up the glass, taking a slow sip. The burn of the whiskey settles in your chest, warming you in a way the freezing walk over couldn’t.

For a moment, you think she might let you enjoy the drink in peace. But of course not.

“So,” she starts, leaning back in her chair. “What happened?”

You sigh, swirling the ice in your glass. “Do we have to do this now?”

“Yes.” Her tone is firm, unrelenting. She sips her drink, her eyes fixed on you over the rim of the glass. “Spill.”

You set the glass down, running a hand through your hair. “We just… weren’t compatible anymore.”

Chaewon snorts. “Bullshit. What does that even mean?”

“It means we had different tastes,” you say, glaring at her. “She liked going out all the time; I’d rather stay home. She liked clubbing; I liked reading. She thought Netflix was boring—who even thinks that?!” You pause, rubbing your temples. “And then she started getting distant, like she didn’t even enjoy talking to me anymore. Everything I said felt like it annoyed her. Until…”

“Until?” Chaewon prompts, her tone sharper now.

“Until she snapped,” you mutter. “She said I was boring. And too nerdy. For her, apparently.”

Chaewon’s jaw tightens. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“That’s such bullshit.” She slams her drink down on the table, the glass clinking against the wood. “What the hell is wrong with her? I mean, boring? Nerdy? Please. She’s just projecting her own basic-ass insecurities onto you.”

You let out a weak laugh, staring into your drink. “Yeah, well, you warned me, right?”

“You’re damn right I did.” She points a finger at you like she’s scolding a misbehaving child. “From the second you introduced her, I knew she wasn’t worth it. God, the way she talked about astrology like it was a science? Red flag. Huge.”

“Okay, she wasn’t that bad,” you mutter.

Chaewon narrows her eyes. “Don’t defend her. She literally called you boring, and for what? Because you’re not into overpriced cocktails and pretending to enjoy techno music?”

You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head.

“And another thing,” she continues, clearly warming up now. “Why the hell do you always go for these girls, huh? These… these cookie-cutter influencers or wannabe fashionistas or whatever? It’s like you have a radar for people who are only gonna treat you like crap.”

“Wow, thanks for the support,” you say dryly.

“I’m serious!” She leans forward, her voice dropping slightly. “You could date someone who actually appreciates you. Someone who doesn’t think liking sci-fi is a crime or that staying in is a death sentence. Someone who…” She pauses, looking away briefly before shaking her head. “Anyway, you have terrible taste, is what I’m saying.”

You rest your arms on the table, elbows planted firmly as your hands cradle your head. The whiskey soda sits half-finished in front of you, the ice already starting to melt, but you barely notice it.

“I don’t think I’m compatible with anyone,” you mutter, more to the table than to Chaewon.

She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she watches you with that unreadable expression she’s so good at. “Oh, here we go.”

“I’m serious.” You glance up at her, your face twisted in defeat. “I think I’m just… done. With all of it.”

“‘Done’?” she repeats, her tone dripping with skepticism.

“Yeah.” You sit up slightly, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Love. Dating. Relationships. The whole thing. What’s the point? It’s just rejection after rejection, disappointment after disappointment. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the problem.”

Chaewon snorts, swirling the drink in her hand. “That’s dramatic, even for you.”

“Is it, though?” You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I mean, think about it. Every time I try, it ends the same way. They get bored, or I annoy them, or they find someone else who’s, I don’t know, less me.”

Her brows knit together slightly, the teasing edge in her expression softening just a bit. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being realistic,” you counter, sitting back in your chair with a defeated sigh. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone. Maybe I’m one of those people who’s better off alone.”

She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“See? Even you can’t stand me for too long,” you joke bitterly.

Chaewon sets her drink down with a loud clink, leaning forward to glare at you. “Stop it. You’re not the problem. Like I said, the problem is your taste in women.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Don't play dumb.” She waves a hand, dismissing your confusion. “You keep picking people who don’t deserve you. People who don’t get you. That’s on them, not you.”

“Or maybe,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m just not worth getting.”

Her glare sharpens, and for a second, you think she might actually throw her drink at you. “Don’t. Don’t do that self-pitying bullshit. You’re worth it. You’re just too stupid to see it.”

You let out a humorless laugh, rubbing your hands over your face. “Thanks for the pep talk. Really uplifting.”

Chaewon exhales sharply, sitting back and crossing her arms again. “Look, you’re not perfect. You’re stubborn, and you overthink everything, and sometimes you talk about The Legend of Zelda like it’s a religion.”

“It is a religion,” you mutter.

“But—” she continues, ignoring you, “—you’re also kind, and funny, and smart. And you care, probably too much, which is why these assholes keep hurting you. That’s not a bad thing, okay? It just means you need to stop wasting your time on people who don’t care back.”

Her words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. You stare at your glass, tracing the condensation with your finger. “I’m tired, Chaewon,” you admit quietly. “I’m just… tired of trying.”

Her expression softens, the sharp edges dulling slightly. She reaches across the table, nudging your hand with hers. “Then stop trying so hard. Let the right person find you.”

You glance up at her, and for a moment, you think you see something in her eyes—something that makes your chest tighten. But before you can figure it out, she leans back, grabbing her drink again.

“And in the meantime,” she adds, her smirk returning, “stop being such a drama queen. You’re not giving up on love. Think of it like you're taking a break.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “Fine. A break. But if I die alone, I’m haunting you.”

“Deal.” She clinks her glass against yours, a crooked smile on her lips.

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the warmth seep into your bones. The weight on your chest feels a little lighter now, though not by much. Chaewon watches you over the rim of her glass, there’s something softer lurking in her gaze—a flicker of concern she’d probably deny if you brought it up.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “did you actually cut your hair?”

Chaewon huffs, rolling her eyes. “Yes. Why?”

You shrug, trying to sound casual. “It suits you. I mean, it’s good. Really good, actually.”

She pauses mid-sip, her eyes flicking to yours. “Thanks,” she says, her tone vague, but the way she fidgets with her glass gives her away.

You smirk, leaning back in your chair. “You’re bad at taking compliments, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile, and for a second, the tension between you dissolves completely.

The conversation drifts to safer territory after that, and you find yourself updating her on the games you’ve been playing. “I’ve been sinking way too many hours into that new RPG,” you admit, swirling the ice in your glass. “The one with the insane skill trees? It’s stupidly addictive.”

She tilts her head, genuinely interested. “The one with the branching storylines?”

“Yeah! I’ve already screwed up like three questlines because I made the wrong dialogue choices. It’s brutal.”

Chaewon chuckles, resting her chin on her hand as she listens. “Sounds like it’s punishing you for being indecisive.”

“Exactly! It’s like the developers made it specifically to torture me.”

You keep talking, describing the game mechanics, the world-building, the characters. And she listens. Really listens. She’s not scrolling through her phone or zoning out or pretending to care just to be polite. She’s engaged, asking questions, making observations that show she’s actually paying attention.

It hits you then, how different this is. How different she is.

Your ex never really cared about this stuff. She’d roll her eyes the moment you brought up a game, tuning out or flat-out telling you she wasn’t interested. Conversations with her always felt like walking a tightrope, trying to find the one topic that wouldn’t bore her. With Chaewon, it’s… easy.

“Honestly, I think you’d like it,” you say, gesturing with your glass. “The story’s your kind of thing—morally gray characters, lots of political intrigue. You’d probably end up siding with the villain, though.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Why would I side with the villain?”

“Because you’re a menace,” you deadpan, grinning when she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not the type to get emotionally attached to fictional characters,” she fires back, smirking.

“First of all, rude,” you say, pointing at her. “Second of all, you cried at the end of Fullmetal Alchemist, so don’t even.”

Her smirk falters, and she narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t count. That was different.”

“Sure it was.”

The banter flows easily, the kind that feels effortless, natural. You realize, not for the first time, how much you enjoy talking to her. How much you look forward to these moments when the world feels less crushing and complicated.

And then there’s the way she’s looking at you now, her dark eyes steady and focused, her chin still resting on her hand. Like she’s actually glad to be here with you.

You don’t say it out loud, but it’s nice.

It’s more than nice.

“Anyway,” she says, breaking the silence, “if you’re going to recommend a game, you better let me borrow it. Why waste money when I've got you, my walking game library?"

You laugh, raising your glass in mock salute. “Consider it done.”

You can’t help but smile as Chaewon takes a sip of her drink, the corners of her lips quirking upward in that way that says she’s amused but refuses to fully admit it. Her eyes glimmer in the low bar lighting, and for a moment, it feels like the two of you are in your own little bubble, separate from the hum of the bar around you.

“You know,” you say, swirling the last of your whiskey, “I wasn’t kidding about you siding with the villain. You’ve got that whole morally ambiguous vibe.”

Chaewon raises an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Excuse me? Morally ambiguous? Care to elaborate?”

“Sure.” You grin, resting your elbows on the table. “You’re always roasting me for no reason. You have a resting bitch face so intense it scares the new hires. And don’t think I didn’t see you steal the last donut at the office meeting last week, even though you knew I hadn’t had breakfast.”

Her jaw drops in mock indignation. “Okay, first of all, the donuts are fair game. It’s survival of the fittest.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?” you tease. “Because it looked more like petty theft.”

Chaewon snorts, trying to stifle her laugh, but it escapes anyway—a melodic sound that fills the space between you. It’s unguarded, real, and it makes your chest feel a little lighter.

“Second of all,” she continues, still smiling, “you were too slow. Not my fault you can’t fight for what you want.”

“Wow,” you say, feigning a wounded expression. “Cold. Absolutely ruthless.”

“I’m a realist,” she quips, smirking.

“No, you’re a donut thief.”

That gets her again. She leans back, laughing openly now, her shoulders shaking as she tries to catch her breath. The sound is warm, bright, and for some reason, it feels like a reward—a moment of connection you didn’t realize you needed.

“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, wiping at the corner of her eye.

“Maybe,” you admit, grinning. “But at least I’m not the office villain.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop smiling. “If anyone’s the villain, it’s you. You’re the one who keeps stealing my stapler.”

“Only because you keep hiding my mouse batteries.”

“That was one time.”

“And it was chaos,” you retort. “I couldn’t even Google how to fix it because I didn’t have a mouse!”

She laughs again, her head tilting back slightly, and you realize how rare it is to see her this relaxed. There’s always a sharpness to her—an edge—but right now, she’s softer, her usual armor cracked just enough for you to peek through.

“You know,” you say after a moment, your tone more thoughtful, “you should laugh more. It suits you.”

She blinks, caught off guard, her smile fading just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that it’s nice,” you say simply, leaning back in your chair. “Seeing you like this. It’s… nice.”

She looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she clears her throat, sitting up straighter. “Don’t get sappy on me, okay? I don’t do sappy.”

“Noted,” you say with a mock salute, though you can’t help but notice the faint blush creeping up her neck.

The conversation drifts again, this time to lighter topics—shared office gossip, the weird guy who sits by the printer, and that time Chaewon accidentally sent a snarky email to the entire department.

But through it all, you find yourself stealing glances at her, marveling at how she seems to know exactly how to pull you out of your own head. How she listens, really listens, in a way that makes you feel seen. And how her laughter—bright, unrestrained, and unapologetically her—lingers in the back of your mind, long after the sound fades.

—

The bar has emptied out a bit, the din of voices replaced by the soft hum of the jukebox in the corner playing some indie song you don’t recognize. Three rounds have come and gone—the whiskey soda you started with, smooth and sharp; a pint of amber ale, bitter enough to match your mood; and finally, a vodka tonic that sits untouched, the ice long since melted into a watery mess. You’re slumped over, your head resting on your arms, the fatigue creeping in after a long, emotionally draining day.

Across from you, Chaewon is still sitting upright, her glass half-empty as she watches you with an expression you can’t quite place. The faint buzz of alcohol has softened the sharp edges of her usual demeanor, leaving her looking almost thoughtful.

You lift your head just enough to look at her, squinting through the dim light. “What?”

She blinks, startled, as if she didn’t realize you’d noticed her staring. “What, what?”

“That look,” you say, waving a hand vaguely in her direction. “You’re doing that thing where you’re thinking too hard. What’s on your mind?”

Chaewon huffs, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” you murmur, resting your chin on your arms. “You’ve got that little smile thing going on. Spill.”

Her lips twitch, betraying her, and she glances away like she’s debating whether or not to answer. Finally, she sighs, shaking her head. “It’s just… you’ve got this thing about you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite your exhaustion. “What thing?”

“This… helpless puppy vibe,” she says, her voice laced with reluctant amusement. “Like you’re just wandering through life, looking all lost and sad, and it makes people want to take care of you.”

You stare at her, caught between offense and confusion. “A puppy? Really?”

“Yeah, a puppy,” she repeats, smirking now. “Big, sad eyes. Kind of scruffy. Probably needs a bath. It's dangerous, you know?”

“Wow,” you say, sitting up slightly. “Thanks for that vivid and insulting description.”

“You asked.” She shrugs, but there’s something softer in her gaze now, a flicker of vulnerability she’s trying to hide.

You rest your head back on your arms, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “So what’s so dangerous about this hypothetical puppy version of me?”

Chaewon hesitates, tapping her fingers against her glass. When she speaks, her voice is quieter, almost hesitant. “Dangerous for… someone who thinks you deserve better. Someone who wants to see you happy.”

The words hang between you, heavy and unexpected. For a moment, you’re not sure if you heard her right.

“Someone like that actually exists?” you ask, your tone a mix of skepticism and self-deprecating humor.

She doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. There’s something in her expression now—something raw and unguarded that you’ve never seen before.

“You’re looking at this person,” she says simply.

The room feels too quiet all of a sudden, the music in the background fading into nothing. You stare at her, trying to process the weight of her words. There’s no teasing smirk, no sarcastic remark to soften the blow. Just Chaewon, sitting there, her gaze steady and unapologetic.

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Your brain is scrambling for something—anything—to say, but all you can do is stare at her like an idiot.

Finally, she breaks the silence, her lips quirking into a small, self-conscious smile. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s not like I’ve been subtle.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, your voice cracking slightly.

She laughs softly, the sound both nervous and amused. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you admit, still reeling. “I’m starting to get that.”

Chaewon leans forward, resting her elbows on the table as she studies you. “You don’t have to say anything,” she says quietly. “I just… I thought you should know.”

You nod slowly, your mind still spinning. The warmth in her gaze, the way she’s looking at you now—it feels like a lifeline, pulling you out of the fog you’ve been drowning in.

“Thanks,” you say finally.

“For what?”

“For… being here.”

The bar feels quieter than ever, as if the world has tuned out everything except the two of you. The moment feels too big for words, so you don’t try.

Instead, you ask:

“Can I hug you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Right now? In the middle of the bar?”

You glance around, gesturing vaguely at the room. “Why not? Nobody’s paying attention.”

She hesitates, lips pursed as if she’s weighing the pros and cons. Then, with a small huff of resignation, she nods. “Fine. But if this gets weird, I’m blaming you.”

You stand up slowly, your heart beating a little too fast as you make your way around the table. Chaewon stays seated for a moment, like she’s still deciding if she’s really going to go through with it, but then she rises to meet you.

Her arms come up awkwardly at first, like she’s not sure where to put them, but then you pull her in, and everything just clicks.

Her small frame presses against yours, fitting perfectly into the curve of your arms. She’s warm, her body soft but firm where it leans into you. Her hair smells faintly of citrus and something floral—clean, crisp, and distinctly her. And her perfume… it’s subtle but intoxicating, a quiet reminder of how she always seems to take your breath away without trying.

You hold her tighter, your hands resting gently on the small of her back. She doesn’t pull away—in fact, she leans in just a little more, her cheek brushing against your chest.

“This is nice,” you murmur, your voice low and almost sleepy.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against you. “You sound like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Maybe I am,” you admit, your eyelids drooping. “Could totally sleep here, just like this.”

Chaewon tilts her head back slightly to look up at you, her eyes catching the dim light in a way that makes your heart do something weird and uncoordinated. “You’re such an idiot,” she says, but there’s no bite to her words.

“An idiot who’s comfortable,” you counter, letting your head rest lightly against hers.

She hesitates for a beat, then says, ���Come to my place.”

You blink, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “What?”

“My apartment,” she says, her voice quieter now but steady. “It’s close. You can crash there. No point in going all the way home when you’re about to pass out.”

For a moment, you just look at her, trying to process what exactly she’s offering.

“That’s… a great idea,” you say finally, your lips curving into a small smile. “Let’s do it.”

Chaewon steps back, giving you one last once-over like she’s making sure you won’t collapse on the way there. “Good. But if you snore, I’m kicking you out.”

“Fair,” you reply, grinning.

As the two of you leave the bar together, stepping out into the crisp night air, you can’t help but feel like something has shifted—something subtle but undeniable. The space between you feels smaller now, the connection deeper.

—

Chaewon’s apartment greets you with a kind of stillness, like it’s been waiting quietly for her return. She’s ahead of you, shrugging off her coat and neatly hanging it on the hook by the door before toeing off her boots and lining them up with precision against the wall.

“Make yourself at home,” she says, her voice casual but carrying that hint of expectation, like she’s daring you to do anything but comply. “Want some tea?”

“Tea sounds great,” you say, still standing awkwardly in the entryway, unsure where to step in a place that looks like it belongs in a design catalog. To avoid mistakes, you mimic her movements, hanging your coat next to hers, same thing with your shoes. You place your bag on the floor beside the sofa to keep it from being in the way. "I love tea, it's very, uh, natural."

She nods and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to take it all in.

The space is pure Chaewon—clean, clinical, with sharp angles and muted tones. The furniture is sleek and minimal, not a throw pillow out of place. Even the books on the shelves are organized by size, their spines forming a perfect gradient from light to dark. There’s no clutter, no mess, not even a stray sock to prove she actually lives here.

You wander further in, the floor under your socked feet smooth and cool. There’s a single potted plant on the windowsill, its leaves glossy and impossibly green, like it’s been getting five-star treatment since birth. You stop to study it, half expecting to see tiny instructions taped to the pot—water twice a day, rotate for even sunlight, apologize if you overwater.

The shelves catch your eye next. Books, a few picture frames, a small collection of vinyl records. You tilt your head, curious, but resist the urge to reach out and touch anything. The last thing you need is to knock over some rare artifact of her highly curated life.

“You’re snooping,” Chaewon’s voice comes from behind you, startling you enough to make you flinch.

“Not snooping,” you protest, spinning around. “Just… looking. Observing. Admiring?”

She raises an eyebrow, one hand holding a mug, the other a small tray with a teapot and another mug. “Uh-huh. You're acting like a nosy puppy.”

“Err, I really don't understand this correlation between puppies and me... Maybe I’m just trying to figure you out,” you quip, though your face feels a little warm at being caught.

Chaewon smirks, setting the tray down on the coffee table and gesturing for you to sit on the couch. You oblige, sinking into the surprisingly firm cushions as she pours the tea with careful precision.

Her movements are methodical, each gesture deliberate, like she’s done this a thousand times before. When she hands you the mug, her fingers brush yours for just a second, and you’re hit again with that faint citrus-and-floral scent that clings to her.

“Thanks,” you say, wrapping your hands around the mug for warmth.

She sits down beside you, her posture as precise as everything else about her. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence filled with the soft clink of the teapot as she sets it back on the tray.

“So?” she asks, finally breaking the quiet. “What’s your verdict?”

“On what?”

“My place,” she says, gesturing around with one hand. “You’ve been staring at everything like a toddler in a museum.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s… very you.”

Her brow furrows slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Organized. Clean. Intimidatingly perfect,” you say, taking a sip of tea to hide your smirk.

Chaewon narrows her eyes at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky you’re tired, or I’d kick you out for that one.”

“You’d miss me,” you shoot back.

“Drink your tea,” she says, turning away, but you don’t miss the faint smile tugging at her lips.

The tea’s warmth seeps into your hands as you cradle the mug, its steam curling lazily into the air. Chaewon sits beside you, legs crossed, her own mug resting on her knee as she watches you with that quiet intensity she’s so good at. The conversation has drifted to safer topics—work drama, the weird quirks of your mutual coworkers—but the energy feels heavier now, like there’s something unspoken hanging between you.

You laugh at something she says about your boss’s obsession with motivational quotes, but it comes out thinner than you intended. Chaewon notices immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“You okay?” she asks, tilting her head.

You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the mug. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “You’ve got that weird energy again.”

You laugh nervously, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “Weird energy?”

“Yeah,” she says, leaning back against the couch. “Like you’re trying to calculate how to escape a room without making a scene.”

You rub the back of your neck, looking away. “It’s nothing. Just… tired, I guess.”

Chaewon isn’t buying it. She sets her mug down beside yours and shifts slightly, turning to face you more directly. “Spill. What’s going on?”

You glance at her, then quickly look away again, focusing on the pattern of the rug instead. “It’s stupid.”

“Good thing I’ve got time for stupid,” she says, her voice tinged with amusement. “Come on. Out with it.”

You sigh, your shoulders sagging. “It’s just… I don’t want to ruin things.”

“Ruin what?” she asks, her brow furrowing.

“This,” you say, gesturing vaguely between you. “Us. I’ve messed up before, you know? With other girls. I always say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing, or just… end up being too much. And I don’t want to lose you. You’re one of the few people who actually seems to get me.”

The words hang in the air. You immediately regret saying them, your stomach twisting as you brace for whatever sharp, sarcastic response she’s bound to throw your way.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Chaewon shifts closer, her movements slow and deliberate. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she looks at you, her face unreadable. “You won’t ruin anything,” she says quietly, her voice steady. “I promise.”

You glance at her, startled by the softness in her tone. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” she counters, her gaze unwavering. “You think I don’t know who you are by now? All the awkwardness, the overthinking, the dumb jokes? That’s you. And I like you just the way you are.”

Her words make you feel something strange in your chest, leaving you momentarily speechless. Chaewon doesn’t look away, her expression open and sincere in a way that feels almost vulnerable.

“I’m serious,” she continues, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to try so hard with me. You’re not gonna scare me off or mess this up. So just… relax, okay?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “I don’t deserve you saying things like that.”

Her lips curve into a small, wry smile. “Probably not. But lucky for you, I’m generous.”

You laugh, the sound shaky but real, and she smiles wider at that. The tension in your chest eases a little, replaced by something warmer, something that feels suspiciously like hope.

Chaewon leans back against the couch, close enough now that her shoulder brushes yours. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice quiet. “Thanks.”

She shrugs, reaching for her tea again. “Don’t mention it. Just don’t make me say all that sappy stuff twice.”

“Deal,” you reply, grinning despite yourself.

You pick up your mug again, staring into it like the tea holds the answers to all of life’s mysteries. Chaewon’s sitting close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off her, which is both comforting and mildly distracting. You decide to lean into it, though—into her, into this whole vibe.

“So,” you start, trying to sound casual, “what kind of guys are you into?”

Chaewon doesn’t even blink. She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking in a way that tells you she knows exactly what you’re doing. “Seriously? That’s where you’re going with this?”

“What?” You shrug, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious. You never talk about that kind of stuff.”

“Because it’s none of your business,” she says, her voice dry, but she’s smirking now, her amusement clear.

“Come on,” you press, leaning a little closer. “Humor me. What’s your type?”

She tilts her head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. Let’s see. I guess I like someone who’s kind of a mess, but in a lovable way.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are starting to heat up. “A mess?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding seriously. “Like, they’ve probably got zero game, but they’re sweet, and funny, and they care about people even when they shouldn’t.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you describing me right now?”

She doesn’t answer directly, just sips her tea with an exaggerated innocence that makes you want to throw a pillow at her.

“Okay, fine,” you say, leaning back against the couch and crossing your arms. “What else?”

“Hmm,” she hums, dragging it out on purpose. “Definitely someone who’s way too into nerdy stuff. Like, they could probably write an entire essay on the politics of some random video game world.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”

“And they’ve got to be a little awkward,” she continues, her smirk growing. “Like, they think they’re flirting right now, but they’re just embarrassing themselves.”

“Okay, I get it!” you cut her off, your voice muffled by your hands.

Chaewon laughs, the sound bright and unapologetic. She reaches over, nudging your shoulder. “What? You asked.”

“Yeah, and I regret it,” you mutter, peeking at her through your fingers. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” she says, looking far too pleased with herself.

There’s a pause as you both settle back into the couch, the playful tension between you easing into something quieter. Then Chaewon stretches, rolling her neck like she’s trying to work out a kink.

“Ugh,” she groans, rubbing the back of her neck. “I think I’ve been sitting at my desk too long this week.”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “What, you need a massage or something?”

“Actually, yeah,” she says, turning to look at you with an expression that’s far too smug. “Since you’re offering.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, I wasn’t—”

“Too late. Offer accepted,” she interrupts, shifting to sit sideways on the couch and giving you her back.

You hesitate for a second, then sigh, setting your mug aside. “Fine. But if you complain, I’m stopping.”

“Just shut up and get to it,” she says, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

You roll your eyes but move closer, placing your hands lightly on her shoulders. Her body tenses slightly under your touch at first, but as you start to knead gently, her posture softens.

“Not bad,��� she murmurs, tilting her head forward to give you better access.

“Not bad?” you echo, your fingers working into the knots in her shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I give amazing massages.”

“Sure you do,” she says, her voice slightly muffled.

You work silently for a bit, your hands moving with more confidence as you get into a rhythm. It’s oddly intimate, this moment between you, and you’re not sure whether to be grateful or terrified by how comfortable it feels.

Your hands move slowly, working into the tension in Chaewon’s shoulders, but the longer you touch her, the harder it is to focus. She feels warm under your hands, soft in all the right places, and the faint scent of her perfume is messing with your head in a way you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with.

Chaewon lets out a quiet sigh, tilting her head to the side to give you better access. Her short hair falls away from her neck, exposing smooth, pale skin that catches the dim light just right. You pause for half a second, your hands hovering, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you are to her.

“You okay back there?” she asks, glancing at you over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you mutter, quickly resuming the massage. “Just… trying to find the knot.”

Her lips twitch like she doesn’t entirely believe you, but she doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, she leans forward a bit, giving you even more space to work. “Well, don’t chicken out. I could really use this.”

Your hands move lower, grazing the tops of her shoulder blades, and you feel her shiver slightly under your touch. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send your thoughts spiraling. Suddenly, the innocent, friendly massage doesn’t feel so innocent anymore.

Chaewon shifts slightly, her back arching just enough to make you notice, and you swallow hard, your fingers faltering for just a second. She doesn’t say anything, but the air between you feels thicker now, charged with something you’re not sure either of you expected.

You clear your throat, trying to focus. “You’ve got a lot of tension here,” you say, your voice coming out lower than you intended.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, her tone almost teasing. “Guess you’d better keep going.”

You can’t help it; your eyes drift down her back, tracing the curve of her spine under her blouse. Your hands move on their own, pressing into the muscles just below her shoulders, but all you can think about is how much you want to touch more. Explore more.

She tilts her head back slightly, her neck exposed, and you’ve never seen her look more beautiful. It’s not just the way her body reacts under your hands—it’s the way she’s completely at ease, trusting you in a way that feels almost vulnerable.

“You’re good at this,” she says, her voice softer now, almost breathy.

“Yeah?” you say, trying to keep the nervous edge out of your voice. “Maybe I missed my calling.”

She chuckles, the sound low and warm, and something about it makes your pulse pick up. “Don’t get cocky.”

Your hands move lower again, brushing against the edge of her lower back, and she shifts under your touch, her breath hitching just slightly. It’s enough to make your resolve start to crumble.

You want her—have wanted her for longer than you’re willing to admit—but now, with her so close, so warm, so utterly Chaewon, it feels impossible to ignore. Every time your hands move, every time she sighs or shifts, it pulls you deeper into something you don’t think you can back out of.

But you hesitate, your hands lingering on her back, unsure of how to bridge the gap between what’s happening and what you want to happen.

Your hands pause for just a moment when Chaewon shifts again, her body leaning slightly forward. Her shoulders tense briefly before relaxing, and then, in a voice quieter than you’ve ever heard from her, she says, “You can go lower… if you want.”

Time stops.

You’re not even sure you heard her right at first. Your brain scrambles to process the words, but your hands are already moving, sliding lower down her back, fingertips brushing over the curve of her waist. You swallow hard, every nerve in your body buzzing.

Her blouse is soft, thin enough that you can feel the heat of her skin beneath it. Your hands press into her, kneading gently, and she lets out a quiet sigh that shoots straight through you.

“That’s… nice,” she murmurs, her head tilting slightly forward.

You chuckle nervously, trying to play it cool even though your heart feels like it’s about to break through your ribs. “Yeah? I’ve got skills.”

She lets out a soft laugh, the sound breathy, and shifts again as your hands move down to her lower back, squeezing lightly. Her body reacts under your touch—a slight arch of her back, a shiver that you feel more than see—and it’s driving you insane.

“Seriously,” she says, her voice muffled as she rests her arms on her knees. “You’re too good at this.”

“You’re welcome,” you tease, your voice low, though you’re barely holding it together.

Her sighs grow softer, more frequent, and her breathing starts to change, deepening slightly. You’re not sure what’s happening anymore, but you don’t care. You’re touching her, she’s letting you, and it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you.

Then she mumbles something, so quiet you almost miss it.

“What?” you ask, leaning in instinctively, your ear close to her lips. “What did you say?”

She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t move. For a moment, you think she won’t answer, but then, in a voice so small it barely feels like her, she murmurs, “Kiss me.”

Oh.

Your breath catches. You pull back slightly, just enough to look at her, but she’s still staring down at her knees, her face half-hidden by the angle.

“Chaewon,” you say softly, her name catching in your throat.

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look up, but her body shifts toward you, and that’s all the confirmation you need.

You lean in slowly, your lips brushing against the curve of her neck. Her skin is warm and soft, and she smells so good it makes your head spin. You start with a gentle kiss, hesitant, testing, but when she doesn’t pull away—when she lets out the quietest, softest sigh—you lose what little restraint you had left.

Your lips press more firmly against her neck, trailing downward, tasting her skin. Her body tilts toward you, her breathing uneven now, and one of her hands comes up to rest lightly on your arm, her fingers curling against your sleeve.

“God,” you murmur against her skin, your voice barely audible.

She doesn’t say anything, but the way she shifts closer, the way her fingers tighten on your arm, tells you everything you need to know.

Your lips trail up from her neck, slow and deliberate, savoring the warmth of her skin and the way she tilts her head to give you more access. Each kiss pulls a soft sigh from her, barely audible, but enough to set your blood on fire. You can feel her pulse quicken beneath your lips, her breathing uneven as you move closer to her jawline.

And then, without really thinking, you shift your angle and capture her lips.

She turns slightly, just enough to meet you halfway, and the kiss is soft at first—tentative, testing. The faint taste of tea lingers on her lips, mixing with a trace of whiskey, and it’s so much better than you expected. You kiss her deeper, and she responds, her lips parting slightly as the kiss grows more insistent.

You’re still behind her, one arm slipping around her waist to pull her closer as your other hand trails up her side. Her body melts into yours, her back pressing against your chest, and you can feel the subtle tremor running through her as your lips move together.

Her blouse is in your way. It’s driving you crazy.

Your hands start to move without thinking, sliding down her front and finding the buttons of her blouse. The fabric is soft, just like her, and your fingers fumble slightly, but you manage to undo the first button, then the second, all while keeping your lips locked with hers.

Chaewon lets out a quiet gasp as your hand brushes against her bare skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand reaches up, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as her other hand grips your arm, her nails digging in lightly.

“Are you…” she starts to whisper, but her words are lost in a gasp when you undo another button, your hand slipping inside her blouse to rest against her stomach.

She feels so warm under your touch, her body soft and perfect, and you can’t help but move your hand upward, brushing the edge of her bra. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her breathing heavy, and you take the opportunity to kiss her neck again, trailing upward to her ear.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Chaewon freezes for just a second, like she’s caught off guard, but then she turns her head slightly, meeting your lips again in a kiss that’s more desperate than the first. Her hands pull you closer, her body pressing against yours as her blouse falls open, the fabric slipping from her shoulders.

You barely notice the sound of her breath hitching, too focused on the way her skin feels under your hands, the way her lips taste like tea and warmth and Chaewon.

The blouse clings stubbornly to Chaewon’s waist, but you’ve had enough of it. She seems to share the same feeling, raising her arms without a word, your fingers find the fabric, and with one smooth, determined motion, you slide it up and over her head, tossing it behind you without a glance. Now she’s facing you, her skin flushed, her breathing shallow, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

Her tiny waist curves perfectly into her hips, her perky breasts framed by a simple black lace bra that somehow makes her even more devastatingly beautiful. Chaewon shifts slightly under your gaze, her cheeks turning pink, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she smirks faintly, like she knows exactly what’s going through your head.

“You done staring, or should I charge you for the show?” she teases, her voice light but tinged with nervousness.

You grin, your heart pounding. “Sorry, just… wow. You’re gorgeous, Chaewon.”

Her smirk falters, her lips parting slightly, and for a moment, she looks almost shy. But then she steps closer, fingers already moving toward the buttons of your blouse. “Okay, your turn. Fair’s fair.”

She starts unbuttoning slowly, each flick of her fingers deliberate, grazing your skin just enough to send shivers down your spine. Once the last button is undone, she slides the blouse off your shoulders, taking off one sleeve at a time before tossing it somewhere behind her like it doesn’t matter.

Her hand comes up, hesitating for a moment before she places it on your chest, her fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “I’ve imagined this,” she says quietly.

You swallow hard, your breath catching at the honesty in her words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, her eyes meeting yours. “More than I’d like to admit.”

Her hand continues its slow exploration, her touch sending shivers down your spine. You feel completely exposed, but not in a bad way. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you—like she’s seeing you, all of you, and she likes what she sees.

Unable to resist any longer, you reach for her, pulling her close and guiding her back to the couch. She lets you, her body soft and pliant under your hands as you lower her down onto the cushions.

Her hair fans out against the dark fabric, and her lips curve into a small, teasing smile as you settle on top of her, your weight braced on your elbows. “Comfy?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Very,” you reply, grinning down at her. “How about you?”

“I’ll let you know,” she says, her hands sliding up your back to pull you closer.

You kiss her again, slow and deep, savoring the way her body responds beneath you. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, her legs shifting to tangle with yours, and the soft sounds she makes between kisses are enough to drive you insane.

Chaewon’s lips are addictive. Every time you think you’ve had your fill, she moves just right, sighs into your mouth, or tilts her head to let you deepen the kiss. It’s impossible to stop, and honestly, you don’t want to.

At some point, she breaks the kiss, panting lightly, her eyes half-lidded as she smirks. “Weren’t you exhausted ten minutes ago?”

You grin, brushing your thumb against her cheek. “Not anymore. Maybe it’s the tea.”

She arches an eyebrow. “The tea?”

“Or maybe it’s you,” you admit, leaning down to kiss her again, softer this time but no less intense.

She lets out a quiet laugh against your lips but doesn’t pull away. Her hands trail down your back, her nails grazing your skin lightly enough to make you shiver. You shift slightly, pressing your lips to her jaw, then down to her neck. She tilts her head automatically, giving you more room to work, but when your mouth latches onto the delicate skin below her ear, she gasps.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice breathy. “You’re gonna leave marks.”

You pause, your lips hovering over her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

There’s a beat of silence where she doesn’t answer, just stares at you, her cheeks flushed and her breathing uneven. Then, almost too quietly, she whispers, “No.”

You grin against her skin, nipping lightly at the same spot before sucking gently, drawing a soft moan from her. Your hand moves to her waist, holding her in place as your mouth continues its path along her neck, alternating between kisses and playful bites.

Chaewon’s fingers thread through your hair, tugging slightly as she arches into you. “You’re such a nerd,” she mutters, though her tone lacks any real bite.

“And yet,” you reply, moving back up to kiss her mouth, “you’re here.”

She laughs, muffled by your lips, and then gasps softly as you bite her bottom lip, tugging just enough to make her squirm. Her hands tighten on your shoulders, and her legs shift, tangling further with yours as your kiss deepens.

Your hands slide up her back, finding the strap of her bra. The clasp feels impossibly tiny beneath your fingers, but you work at it, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing as her body presses closer to yours.

“Having trouble?” she teases, her lips brushing against yours.

“Shut up,” you murmur, grinning as you finally manage to unhook it.

Your hands work the clasp on Chaewon’s bra, finally unhooking it with a small triumph you try to play cool. The straps slide off her shoulders, and just as you’re about to toss it aside, she holds it against her chest, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly.

“Wait,” she says, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

You freeze, leaning back slightly to meet her gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen from your kisses, but there’s a different kind of vulnerability in her eyes now.

“You’re not just doing this because you’re… you know, hurting, right?” she asks quietly. “I don’t want to be just some kind of band-aid for you.”

For a moment, all the heat between you cools just enough for you to realize how much weight she’s carrying in this moment, how much she’s letting herself be exposed.

“Chaewon,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a little, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was already planning the wedding.”

Her eyes widen for a split second before she laughs, a short, startled sound that breaks the tension just enough. “You’re such an idiot,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling softly. “But seriously…” You reach up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not a band-aid. You’re… special. You’ve always been special, and I’m sorry it took me this long to see it.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes searching yours for something you hope she finds. Then, with a faint smirk, she murmurs, “Damn right I’m special.”

You chuckle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, you are. And I’m lucky. You’re… kind of the best thing in my life right now, you know that?”

Chaewon doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with an expression that’s so raw and open it makes your chest ache. Then, slowly, she lets the bra slip from her hands, her arms falling to her sides as she finally lets you see her.

Her perky breasts are small but perfect, her pale skin flushed and warm. You take a moment to just look at her, taking her in, and the way she shifts slightly under your gaze, her lips parting, makes your breath catch.

“You’re gorgeous,” you murmur, your voice low and reverent.

She huffs, clearly trying to deflect. “You’ve said that already.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true.”

Her eyes meet yours again, and this time, there’s no hesitation, no barriers.

Your lips find hers, and this time the kiss is slower, deeper, your body pressing down against hers as you settle into the couch. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer, her fingers tangling in your hair as if she’s trying to anchor herself.

Your hand moves almost instinctively, sliding from her waist up to her chest. When your palm finally covers her breast, you pause for just a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your hand, the softness yielding perfectly to your touch.

Chaewon lets out a quiet, breathy sound against your lips, her back arching slightly into your touch. It’s all the encouragement you need. Your fingers squeeze gently, testing, and her response—a soft moan that she tries to muffle—sends heat rushing through you.

You break the kiss, trailing your lips down her jaw, her neck, leaving small, open-mouthed kisses along the way. She tilts her head back, her breathing uneven, her fingers tightening in your hair as your mouth makes its way lower.

When your lips reach her collarbone, you pause to glance up at her, your eyes meeting hers. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and there’s something so intoxicating about the way she’s looking at you—trusting, wanting.

You kiss the top of her breast first, softly, reverently, before moving lower. Your hand slides away, making room for your mouth as you finally reach her nipple.

It’s small and perfectly pink, the areola slightly darker and tight against the cool air of the room. You pause, your lips hovering just above her skin, and then you take her nipple into your mouth, sucking gently.

Chaewon gasps, her body jolting slightly beneath you, her hands gripping your shoulders now. “God,” she breathes, her voice trembling.

You swirl your tongue around the hardened bud, teasing, tasting, savoring the way she reacts—her quiet whimpers, the way her fingers dig into your skin. You suck a little harder, pulling her nipple further into your mouth, and she arches her back, pressing herself closer to you.

When you move to the other breast, you take your time, kissing your way across her chest, letting your lips linger on her skin. Her other nipple is just as perfect, already taut with anticipation when your tongue flicks over it for the first time.

Her response is immediate—a soft moan that makes your chest tighten, your name falling from her lips like a prayer. You suck gently, then harder, alternating with flicks of your tongue that make her shiver beneath you.

You take a moment to glance up again, her face flushed and her eyes half-closed as she watches you, her lips parted, her breathing uneven. There’s something about the way she looks right now—completely undone, completely yours—that makes you feel like you’re falling and never want to stop.

You return to her breasts, your mouth working over her soft skin as if you’ve got all the time in the world. Each kiss, each lick, each gentle nip earns you another sigh, another soft gasp that makes your pulse race. Her nipples are sensitive under your tongue, tightening further with every flick and suck, and you savor the way her body responds—how she arches toward you, her hands restless against your back, her quiet sounds growing needier.

Eventually, you pull away, leaving her flushed and breathing hard, her chest rising and falling beneath you. You kiss your way back up to her collarbone, her neck, and finally her lips, her taste familiar now but still somehow electrifying.

You pause for a moment, your forehead resting against hers as you catch your breath. “Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low and a little rough. “Do you… want to move to the bed?”

She looks at you, her dark eyes hazy with want but still sharp enough to catch you off guard. For a second, she just stares, like she’s weighing the moment, before finally whispering, “Yeah.”

Her answer is simple, but it’s all you need. Without hesitating, you slip your arms around her, lifting her from the couch with surprising ease. She gasps softly at the sudden movement, her hands automatically gripping your shoulders for balance, but she’s smiling, her lips curving into a rare, unguarded grin.

“You didn’t have to carry me,” she says, her voice teasing but breathy as you press a kiss to her cheek.

“I wanted to,” you reply, grinning against her skin as you kiss your way down to her neck.

She chuckles, the sound soft and breathless, and hooks an arm around your neck, guiding you toward the hallway. You follow her lead, your lips never leaving her skin as you walk. You kiss her jaw, her ear, her throat, savoring every quiet sigh and shiver as her fingers tangle in your hair.

When you reach her bedroom, you fumble briefly but manage to switch on the light without releasing Chaewon from your grasp. A soft, amber glow floods the room, painting her delicate features in hues of warmth. You lower her onto the bed gently, taking a step back to admire the sight in front of you.

Chaewon lies there, half-naked and impossibly beautiful, her flushed skin glowing in the soft light. Her blouse is gone, her bra discarded, and her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath. Her pants are still on, but the way they cling to her hips and thighs makes your throat tighten.

You swallow hard, stepping closer as she watches you, her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. Slowly, you reach for the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you undo the button.

“You okay?” you ask, glancing up at her.

She nods, her gaze steady but warm. “Yeah. Keep going.”

You slide the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room, and begin to ease the fabric down her hips. The process is slower than you expect, your hands trembling slightly as you reveal inch after inch of smooth, pale skin.

And then her panties come into view.

They’re simple but beautiful, black lace with intricate floral patterns that contrast perfectly against her soft skin. The delicate fabric sits low on her hips, hugging her in a way that leaves little to the imagination. The edges are trimmed with a subtle scalloped design, the lace slightly sheer, hinting at the curves beneath without fully revealing them.

For a moment, you just stare, your breath catching as your hands linger on her hips. You never imagined you’d find yourself here—literally undressing your coworker, who you’ve argued with over staplers and coffee orders—but here you are, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re staring again,” Chaewon says, her voice tinged with humor but softer than usual.

“I think you better get used to it.” you reply, your voice low as you run your fingers lightly over the waistband of her panties.

She huffs, her cheeks turning pink, but she doesn’t look away. “Just don’t make it weird.”

You chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to her stomach, just above the lace. “Too late.”

As your fingers trail along the waistband of Chaewon’s panties, her breathing hitches, her body shifting slightly beneath your touch. The delicate lace is impossibly soft under your fingertips, a fragile barrier that feels both tantalizing and maddening. Slowly, you slide your fingers under the fabric, your knuckles brushing against her skin as you begin to ease the panties down.

She lifts her hips just enough to help you, her legs bending and turning slightly as you pull the lace down her thighs, over her knees, and finally off her feet. The room feels impossibly quiet, every rustle of fabric and soft exhale amplified in the charged air between you.

When you glance back up, she’s already spreading her legs, the invitation clear. Your breath catches as you take her in fully for the first time.

Her pussy is beautiful, her lips soft and slightly swollen, glistening faintly in the low light of the room. The pink of her inner folds is just visible, a delicate contrast against the smooth skin of her thighs. She’s bare, her skin perfect and inviting, the sight enough to make your mouth water.

You lean down slowly, your lips trailing kisses along the inside of her thigh. Her skin is warm beneath your mouth, impossibly soft, and she lets out a quiet, shaky sigh as your kisses move higher. Her scent hits you then—subtle, musky, intoxicating. It’s uniquely her, a mix of clean and raw and heady, and it pulls you in like nothing else.

Your hands rest on her thighs, holding them gently as you kiss closer to her center. When your lips finally brush against her, she gasps softly, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the touch. You start slow, your tongue flicking lightly over her folds, tasting her for the first time.

She’s warm, slick, and utterly addictive, her taste filling your senses as you suck gently on her clit. Her body jerks slightly beneath you, her thighs trembling against your hands as she moans quietly, her voice soft and breathy.

“God,” she murmurs, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly as her hips shift toward you.

You smile against her, your tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, savoring every sound she makes, every small shiver of her body. Her scent grows stronger as you continue, her arousal unmistakable, and it’s everything you can do to keep your movements controlled, purposeful, to draw this out as long as you can.

Chaewon’s hands find your hair, her fingers tangling in it as she pulls you closer, her breaths coming quicker now. Her quiet gasps and soft moans are music to your ears, each one driving you further, pushing you to explore every inch of her with your mouth.

Your lips stay locked onto her, tongue flicking and teasing, savoring the way she’s opening up for you, literally and figuratively. Chaewon’s taste is rich and intoxicating, a mix of salt and sweet that you could drown in and never come up for air. As you suck gently on her clit, your tongue presses just enough to send a ripple through her body, and her moan—low, breathy, needy—reverberates straight through you.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “That feels… so good.”

You hum against her, the vibration making her legs tremble. “You taste so fucking amazing,” you mutter between licks, your lips brushing against her slick folds as you speak. “Could do this all night.”

She gasps, her thighs tightening around your head for a moment before relaxing again. “You’re such a fucking nerd,” she says, trying to sound teasing but failing miserably as her voice cracks into a moan.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” you shoot back, your fingers sliding along her folds to prove your point. The slickness coats your fingertips instantly, and you bring them to your mouth for a quick taste, groaning softly at the sheer decadence of it. “Jesus, Chaewon… you’re delicious.”

Her cheeks flush even darker, her hips jerking slightly as you lean back in, your tongue diving between her folds to lap up every bit of her arousal. She’s wetter now, her juices pooling at her entrance, and you don’t waste a second, licking her clean like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“God, yes,” she whimpers, her hands clutching at your hair as her back arches off the bed. “Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” you reply, grinning against her before wrapping your lips around her clit again, sucking it gently but firmly.

Her response is immediate—a sharp intake of breath, her body tightening as if she’s trying to hold herself together but failing miserably. “Fuck… oh, fuck,” she moans, her hips grinding against your mouth, chasing the pressure.

You slide a hand up her thigh, your thumb teasing the edge of her entrance as your tongue works her clit. “You like that?” you ask, your voice muffled by her heat.

“Y-yeah,” she stammers, her head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop.”

Her words spur you on, your movements growing bolder, more confident. You suck harder, alternating with quick flicks of your tongue, and she’s practically trembling now, her body taut like a bowstring.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” you murmur, your fingers dipping just slightly inside her, feeling how wet and warm she is, how her body clenches around the slightest touch. “Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”

“Shut up,” she gasps, her voice ragged as her hips buck against you. “Just—fuck—keep going.”

You oblige, your tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem to drive her higher, her moans spilling out unfiltered now. Chaewon’s normally sharp, snarky voice is reduced to breathless gasps and broken curses, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

Your tongue circles Chaewon’s clit with deliberate slowness, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to make her squirm. Your fingers slide deeper inside her, curling slightly to find that sweet spot, the one that makes her hips jerk involuntarily. She’s soaking wet now, her slick heat coating your fingers, making every movement easier, smoother.

“Fuck,” she moans, her voice breaking as her legs spread wider, inviting you to take everything she’s offering. Her hands are still tangled in your hair, tugging, pulling, as if she’s trying to ground herself while her body writhes under your touch.

You lift your head slightly, your lips brushing against her inner thigh as you speak. “Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and rough. “So fucking wet for me. You’re dripping, Chaewon. You like this, huh?”

Her response is a strangled moan, her back arching off the bed as you press your thumb against her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. “Y-yeah,” she gasps, her voice trembling. “I fucking love it.”

You smirk, leaning back down to suck her clit into your mouth, your tongue flicking over it in quick, teasing motions. “Good,” you say, your voice muffled by her. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re shaking.”

She whimpers at that, her hands tightening in your hair as her thighs clamp briefly around your head. “God, you’re such a fucking tease,” she mutters, though the breathless laugh that follows makes it clear she doesn’t mean it.

You grin, your fingers thrusting deeper as you suck harder, pulling a broken cry from her lips. “You love it,” you reply, your tongue swirling around her clit before flicking it sharply.

“Fuck—yes,” she moans, her voice growing louder now, more desperate. Her hips grind against your mouth, chasing the friction, and you can feel her getting closer, her body tightening around your fingers with each thrust.

“God, Chaewon,” you murmur between licks, your lips brushing against her slick folds. “You’re so fucking needy. You’re dripping all over me, baby. Can’t get enough, huh?”

“Shut up,” she gasps, though her moans tell you otherwise. Her head falls back against the pillow, her chest heaving as her nails rake lightly against your scalp. “Just… just keep going.”

You oblige, your tongue and fingers working in perfect rhythm now, pushing her higher, closer to the edge. Her clit is swollen and sensitive under your tongue, every flick and suck pulling another moan, another gasp, another curse from her lips.

“Come on, Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come, baby. I want to taste you.”

Her only response is a sharp cry, her body arching off the bed as she clenches around your fingers, her thighs trembling. She’s so close now, her moans turning into desperate whimpers, her hips grinding against your face with reckless abandon.

“Fuck—don’t stop,” she pleads, her voice breaking. “Please, don’t fucking stop.”

You don’t.

Your tongue drags over her clit with precision now, relentless and firm, while your fingers pump into her soaked pussy, curling perfectly against that sensitive spot deep inside her. Chaewon’s breaths are shallow, gasping, her chest heaving with every movement. The taste of her, that musky, sweet cream she’s releasing for you, coats your tongue, addictive and intoxicating.

Her thighs tremble on either side of your head, twitching every time you flick your tongue just right. She’s not quiet anymore—she’s a beautiful, messy symphony of moans and gasps, her voice cracking into broken sentences.

“Fuck—oh god—don’t—don’t stop—” she babbles, her words tumbling out without control. Her hips buck wildly, her hands gripping the sheets so tight her knuckles are white. “It’s—it’s so good—fuck—so fucking—”

You glance up for just a second, your eyes locking onto her flushed face. Her head is thrown back, her lips parted, and her hair sticks to her damp forehead. She’s beautiful, absolutely wrecked, and knowing you’re the reason she’s like this makes your blood pound in your ears.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” you murmur, your voice low and muffled against her pussy. “Can feel how close you are, baby. You gonna come for me?”

“Y-yeah,” she gasps, her thighs twitching against your head as her body trembles. “Fuck—I’m so—oh god, I can’t—”

“You can,” you insist, sucking her clit hard and thrusting your fingers deeper, curling them perfectly. “Come for me, Chaewon. I want to feel it. Want to taste every fucking drop.”

Her entire body goes taut, her back arching sharply as a scream rips from her throat. “FUCK—I’m—oh, oh, oh—” Her thighs snap shut around your head, trapping you there as her pussy clenches hard around your fingers, waves of wet heat flooding against your hand and tongue.

You don’t stop. You keep sucking her clit, even as her body shakes uncontrollably, even as her legs try to squeeze you out. She’s soaking now, her juices dripping down your fingers, her moans turning into breathless whimpers as she rides out the intensity of her orgasm.

“Too—too much—fuck—” she cries, her voice trembling, her hips jerking away from your mouth even as her legs keep you pinned.

You finally ease up, pressing soft, teasing kisses to her clit as her body twitches beneath you. Her thighs slowly loosen their grip, and you pull back just enough to watch her, your lips and chin wet with her arousal.

Chaewon’s chest heaves, her face flushed and glowing as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, and when she meets your gaze, her lips curve into a weak, satisfied smile.

You trail kisses up her trembling body, taking your time as you savor every inch of Chaewon’s soft, warm skin. Her chest rises and falls beneath you, still heaving from her orgasm, and you pause to press a kiss to her collarbone, then her neck, before finally reaching her lips.

She meets you halfway, her kiss slow but insistent, her fingers threading into your hair to hold you close. There’s something almost intoxicating about the way her lips taste now, mingled with the faint, musky tang of her own release.

When you finally pull back, her cheeks are flushed, and her lips curl into a teasing smirk. “You’re surprisingly good at that,” she says, her voice still breathless but laced with humor. “For a nerd.”

You laugh, the sound low and warm, leaning down to brush your nose against hers. “Even nerds have their talents.”

She quirks an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh? And what other talents do you have, exactly?”

Before you can answer, her hand slides down between your bodies, pressing against the hard length of your cock through your pants. The pressure makes you inhale sharply, your hips jerking slightly as her fingers curl around you.

“Because I’m curious,” she continues, her tone dripping with mock innocence as her thumb rubs slow circles over the fabric.

You groan softly, dropping your forehead against hers. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Chaewon.”

“Am I?” she asks, her voice light and teasing, though her grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch.

You lift your head to meet her gaze, your eyes dark with intent. “Guess I’ll have to show you.”

Her eyes widen slightly as you reach down, your hands brushing against hers as you unbutton your pants. The metallic click of the zipper echoes in the quiet room, and you can feel the way her breathing quickens, her body shifting beneath you as her curiosity gives way to anticipation.

You push yourself up slightly, Chaewon’s hands falling away as you shift to sit on your knees. Her gaze follows you, her chest still rising and falling, her lips parted slightly as she watches you reach for your waistband.

Slowly, deliberately, you push your pants down your hips, the fabric sliding down your legs until they’re off completely. Then comes your underwear. Her eyes don’t leave you for a second, dark and intent, and when you finally free yourself, her lips part in a soft gasp.

She’s staring now, her cheeks flushed, her pupils blown wide. “Holy shit,” she murmurs.

You smirk, crawling back over her until you’re close enough to kiss. “Like what you see?”

Chaewon huffs out a breathy laugh, her hand reaching down to wrap around your cock. Her grip is warm, her fingers soft but firm as she strokes you slowly, making your hips jerk slightly. “Didn’t expect you to be… this big,” she says, her tone teasing but tinged with genuine surprise.

“Guess nerds have surprises too,” you manage, though your voice comes out rough as her thumb brushes over your tip.

She laughs again, the sound low and sinful, before pulling you down into another kiss. Her mouth is warm and insistent against yours, her tongue slipping past your lips as her hand keeps working you, slow and deliberate. You groan into her mouth, your hips moving involuntarily into her touch.

When you finally pull away, panting slightly, you rest your forehead against hers. “Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice low. “What about a condom?”

Her eyes flick up to yours, her gaze steady and full of intent. “Don’t need it,” she says softly, her legs shifting to wrap loosely around your hips.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your cock brushing against her thigh as you shift slightly.

“I’m sure,” she says, her voice firmer now. Her hands move to your shoulders, pulling you closer as she tilts her head up to kiss you briefly. “I’ve been waiting for this. For you.”

Her words make something in your chest tighten, and you nod, swallowing hard as you position yourself between her legs.

You reach down, guiding your cock to her wet entrance, teasing her folds with your tip. The heat of her, the way her slickness coats you immediately, sends a shiver down your spine. You rub yourself against her slowly, deliberately, savoring the way her hips jerk and her breath catches.

“Fuck,” she mutters, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You’re such a tease.”

You grin, leaning down to kiss her neck as you keep teasing her, your cock sliding against her clit. “Just want to make sure you’re ready, baby.”

“I’ve been ready,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands slide down your back, her nails digging in lightly as she arches toward you. “I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this. For you. Totally for you.”

Her words hit you like a spark, and you can’t hold back anymore. You line yourself up with her entrance, pressing forward just enough to feel her warmth envelop you. Her body tenses beneath you, her breath hitching as you begin to push inside, slow and deliberate, savoring every second.

You sink into her inch by inch, her wet pussy pulling you in so perfectly it feels like nothing else has ever mattered. Chaewon gasps beneath you, her hands flying to your back, nails biting into your skin as her legs tighten around your hips.

“Fuck,” she breathes, her voice trembling, almost desperate. “You feel so—God, you’re so fucking—”

“Perfect?” you finish for her, grinning against her neck as you push deeper.

“Shut up—” she gasps, her nails dragging down your back as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “You’re so fucking cocky—”

“Yeah, and you’re so fucking tight,” you growl, pulling back just enough before thrusting back in, slow and deep, making her gasp sharply.

Her thighs clamp around you, her heels digging into your lower back as if she’s trying to keep you buried inside her. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop,” she babbles, her voice breaking with every word. “I’ve wanted this—so fucking long—”

“Yeah?” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear as you start moving, setting a steady rhythm that has her clinging to you like a lifeline. “You’ve been thinking about me, baby? Thinking about me fucking you like this?”

“Fuck—yes,” she moans, her back arching as her hips lift to meet your thrusts. “Every time you—stole my stapler—every time you—looked at me like that—”

You laugh breathlessly, your mouth trailing down her neck to her collarbone. “Possessive, huh? Didn’t know you were so obsessed with me, Chaewon.”

“Shut up—” she says again, but the way her nails rake down your back and the way she moans your name tells you exactly how much she loves this.

Her hands find your face, pulling you into a desperate, messy kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, her breath hot against your mouth. “You’re mine,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling but firm. “You hear me? Mine—don’t you fucking forget it—”

“Yours,” you rasp, your thrusts growing harder, deeper, each one pulling a broken cry from her lips. “All fucking yours, Chaewon—fuck—you feel so good, baby—so fucking perfect—”

“Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—” she moans, her voice rising, her body tightening around you like she’s trying to pull you even deeper. “I love this—I love you—God, you’re mine—mine—mine—”

Her words, the way she’s gasping and clinging to you, sends you spiraling. You bury your face in her neck, your thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as you chase the high building between you. Her moans turn into cries, her voice breaking with every thrust as her body arches against yours.

“Fuck—fuck—oh my God—” she cries, her voice high and trembling as she comes, her pussy clenching hard around you.

You keep moving, pushing her through it, her cries turning into breathless whimpers as her body shakes beneath you. She clings to you like she never wants to let go, her lips brushing against your neck as she murmurs your name over and over again, a mantra that makes your chest ache with something deeper than just lust.

You thrust into her again, deep and deliberate, feeling the way Chaewon’s pussy tightens around you with every movement. She gasps, her head falling back against the pillows.

“Fuck—” she breathes, her voice trembling as you pick up your pace, your hips slamming against hers in a rhythm that has her thighs quivering around you. “You’re so—God, you’re so deep—”

“You love it, don’t you?” you growl, leaning down to nip at her neck, your teeth grazing her skin. “Love how I fill you up. You’re so fucking tight, Chaewon. Feels like you were made for me.”

Her response is a strangled moan, her legs wrapping tighter around your hips as her hands grip your back. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you reply, grinning against her collarbone as you thrust harder, your cock sliding in and out of her slick heat. “You’re too fucking good, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

Chaewon’s nails dig into your back, her voice breaking into a series of gasps and half-formed words. “Fuck—yes—more—just like that—”

You shift slightly, angling your hips to hit that spot deep inside her, and her reaction is immediate. She cries out, her body arching off the bed as her pussy clenches around you.

“Right there?” you murmur, your voice low and teasing as you grind into her, drawing another sharp gasp from her lips.

“God—yes—right there—” she stammers, her hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “Fuck—you’re so good—so fucking good—”

You speed up, your thrusts growing rougher, more erratic, and her cries grow louder, more desperate. She’s a mess beneath you now, her hair sticking to her damp forehead, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “All mine. Say it, Chaewon. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours—” she gasps, her voice trembling as she clings to you. “All yours—fuck—I’ve always been yours—”

Her words spur you on, your hips slamming into hers harder, deeper, your cock throbbing inside her as her pussy grips you tighter with every thrust. “Good girl,” you growl, your hand slipping between her legs to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

“Fuck—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—” she pleads, her voice breaking as her hips buck against yours, chasing the release that’s just out of reach.

You keep pounding into her, your rhythm steady but hard enough to make the bed creak beneath you. Chaewon’s moans spill out unfiltered, her hands clutching at your shoulders, nails dragging across your skin in a way that only fuels your drive.

Then you get an idea.

Your hand slides down her stomach, your palm flat against her soft skin. When your fingers reach just above her pubic bone, you press down lightly, applying pressure right where you know it’ll make a difference.

The reaction is instant.

“Fuck—what—” she gasps, her thighs tightening around your waist as her body jolts beneath you. Her pussy clenches hard around your cock, the extra stimulation driving her wild as her head tilts back, exposing her flushed throat.

“Feel that?” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her neck, your hand staying firm against her lower abdomen as you thrust into her, each movement rubbing her G-spot perfectly. “Right here, baby. I can feel how close you are.”

“Oh my God—fuck—” she moans, her voice rising as her hips buck up to meet yours. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—oh, God, it’s so good—”

“Yeah, you like that?” you growl, your pace quickening as you press down harder, feeling the way her body reacts to every thrust. “You’re so fucking tight, Chaewon—Jesus, you’re squeezing me so good—”

Her response is a broken cry, her thighs trembling around your hips as her hands grip you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I can’t—I can’t—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Gonna what?” you tease, your voice low and rough as you lean closer, your mouth brushing against her ear. “Gonna come all over my cock? Do it, baby—I want to feel it. Come for me.”

“Fuck—yes—” she chokes out, her voice trembling as her body tightens beneath you, her pussy clenching harder, wetter.

You push yourself up, your hands gripping Chaewon’s hips for leverage as you lift your body above her. With nothing to hold you back, you start pounding into her, hard and fast, your cock driving deep into her soaked pussy. Each thrust is accompanied by the wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting, the noise blending with her uncontrolled moans into a symphony of raw lust.

Chaewon’s head tosses back against the pillow, her hair splayed out like a dark halo. Her hands clutch at the sheets now, her knuckles white as she fights to hold on, her voice spilling out in broken cries and gasps.

“Fuck—fuck—you’re so deep,” she stammers, her words slurring slightly as her legs tighten around your waist. “I can’t—GOD, it’s so good—”

Your hand returns to her lower abdomen, pressing down firmly just above her pubic bone. The moment you do, her body jolts, her pussy clenching hard around you like she’s trying to pull you in even deeper.

“Feel that?” you grunt, your voice rough as you look down at her, watching the way her body reacts beneath you. “I’m fucking you so good, baby. You’re so fucking tight—so wet—Jesus—This pussy is perfect.

Her response is a string of broken sounds, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips jerk up to meet yours. “I’m—I’m gonna—fuck—” she gasps, her hands flying up to grab at your arms, nails digging in as her thighs tremble.

You lean down slightly, your cock driving into her harder, deeper, as your thumb rubs circles into her clit while your hand presses her abdomen. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” you murmur, your voice low and commanding. “Do it. Cum for me, Chaewon. Show me how good I make you feel.”

Her eyes snap open, wild and glassy, and she lets out a cry that’s half your name, half a desperate moan. “Fuck—I’m—I’m cumming—”

You don’t let up, your pace relentless, your cock pounding into her slick heat as her entire body tenses beneath you. Her pussy clamps down on you, tight and pulsing, and you can feel the gush of wetness as her orgasm hits her full force.

“Oh my—fuck—oh my God—” she babbles, her voice breaking as her back arches off the bed. Her head thrashes from side to side, her hands gripping your arms like a lifeline as her body trembles violently.

Her eyes roll back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream, and you watch, mesmerized, as she completely falls apart. Her body shakes with the force of her orgasm, her thighs quivering as her pussy spasms around you, milking your cock with every wave of pleasure.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice rough but softening as you slow your movements, letting her ride it out. “So fucking beautiful when you cum for me.”

Chaewon’s response is barely coherent, a string of inaudible murmurs and random words that dissolve into breathless gasps. Her body trembles beneath you, her chest heaving as she comes down, her hands loosening their grip on your arms.

You slow to a stop, your cock still buried deep inside her as you lean down to press a soft kiss to her temple. She’s radiant, her skin flushed, her eyes half-closed as she looks up at you with a dazed, blissed-out expression that makes your cock throbs.

Chaewon lies beneath you, her chest still rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath. Her skin is flushed, her hair a wild mess against the pillow, and she looks utterly wrecked in the most beautiful way. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with wide, slightly dazed eyes.

Then she finally speaks, her voice a little hoarse but still carrying that sharp edge that’s so uniquely hers. “Holy shit. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

You grin, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “What, you didn’t think I had any attitude in bed?”

She laughs softly, the sound half incredulous, half amused. “No! You’re like… a puppy most of the time. All lost eyes and awkward energy. And now this?” Her hand gestures vaguely between the two of you, as if she can’t even put it into words.

“Even a puppy’s got teeth,” you tease, nipping lightly at her jaw before trailing kisses down her neck.

“Clearly,” she mutters, her fingers sliding up into your hair as you kiss her. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the soft sound of your mouths meeting, her legs still loosely wrapped around your waist, keeping you close.

You pull back just enough to look at her, your smirk widening. “You okay down there?”

“Oh, I’m better than okay,” she says, narrowing her eyes at you, though there’s no mistaking the warmth in her gaze. “But I’m also pissed.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Pissed? Why?”

“All this time,” she says, her tone half scolding, half playful, “you were this good in bed and you deprived me of it? Do you know how unfair that is?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

“Not funny,” she snaps, though the way her lips curve into a smirk betrays her. “You’re lucky I’m not kicking you out right now.”

“You’re right,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, slow and deliberate. “Maybe I deserve to be punished.”

Her eyes glint with mischief as she kisses you back, her nails dragging lightly down your back. “Oh, you definitely deserve it. Bad puppy.”

“Yeah?” you murmur against her lips, your voice dropping. “How should I make it up to you?”

Chaewon pauses, pretending to think about it as her hand slides up your arm, her fingers brushing your shoulder. “For starters, you’re not leaving this apartment all weekend.”

“All weekend?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, her legs tightening around your waist again, keeping you firmly in place. “You’re staying here. With me. Making up for lost time.”

You smirk, your hips shifting slightly to remind her that you’re still buried inside her. “Sounds like the best punishment I’ve ever heard.”

“Good,” she says, her tone playful but firm as she pulls you down for another kiss.

“No complaints,” you whisper against her lips.

“None allowed,” she replies, her voice low and teasing.

You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound blending with hers as you kiss her again.

Between soft pecks, she murmurs, “Now I want to suck your cock.”

Her words send a jolt of heat straight through you, and you groan softly, brushing your thumb against her flushed cheek. “Yeah?”

She nods, her smirk growing, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a way that makes your cock twitch inside her. “You’ve been driving me insane. Let me make it up to you.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to kiss her again before murmuring against her lips, “Turn around, baby. Sit on my face while you do.”

Her eyes darken, and she doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls herself off your cock slowly, the sensation making both of you gasp, and you watch as she moves with a kind of confident grace that has your heart racing.

You shift onto your back, your head sinking into the pillow as she climbs over you, her knees straddling your shoulders. Her pussy is right there, glistening, flushed, and still slick with her creamy release. The sight alone is enough to make you groan.

But she doesn’t stop there. Chaewon shifts again, leaning forward and gripping your cock in her hand. It’s still wet with her juices, shining in the soft light, and she doesn’t waste any time. Her tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up the length, tasting herself on you.

“Fuck, Chaewon,” you breathe, your hands gripping her thighs as she lowers herself onto your mouth.

The first taste of her is overwhelming—warm, wet, and utterly intoxicating. You dive in, your tongue sliding between her folds to lap up the creamy slickness she left behind. She gasps, her body jerking slightly as you suck on her clit, your hands gripping her hips to hold her in place.

“Shit—” she moans, her voice muffled as she takes your cock deeper into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive head before sliding down the shaft, her lips stretching as she takes more of you.

The room fills with the obscene sounds of wet sucking and muffled moans, the vibrations of her throat around your cock sending shocks of pleasure through your body. But you’re just as relentless, your tongue circling her clit before dipping back into her entrance, tasting the creamy slickness she’s giving you.

Your hands grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you suck and lick, driving her higher. Her moans grow louder, vibrating around your cock as she bobs her head, her hand stroking the base in rhythm with her mouth.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” you groan, your voice muffled against her pussy. “So fucking wet, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

She pulls off your cock with a wet pop, gasping as her hips grind against your face. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she mutters breathlessly before taking you back into her mouth, her tongue working you with an intensity that makes your head spin.

The heat, the wetness, the overwhelming pleasure—it’s too much and not enough all at once. Your world narrows to the feel of her pussy on your tongue, the taste of her, the way her lips glide over your cock.

Chaewon’s hips rock against your face, her movements desperate now as her moans grow louder, more urgent. “Fuck—this is so good—” she gasps, her lips wrap tighter around your cock, her movements slow and deliberate as she takes you deep into her mouth.

Chaewon is dripping saliva now, her mouth working expertly as her tongue flicks along the underside of your shaft with every bob of her head. You glance down and see the way your cock glistens, a mix of her drool and the remnants of her creamy juices pooling at the base and dripping down to your balls. It’s filthy, and it’s driving you insane.

“Fuck, Chaewon,” you groan, your voice muffled as your mouth stays latched to her pussy. You tighten your grip on her ass, spreading her cheeks as you pull her even closer, her wet heat pressing firmly against your lips.

She lets out a muffled moan around your cock, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through you. Her hand wraps around your base, stroking the length she can’t fit in her mouth, her movements slick and messy.

Your tongue moves with purpose now, circling her clit before dipping down to lap at her entrance, tasting the creamy slickness she’s giving you. She’s so sensitive, her pussy twitching against your mouth every time you press harder.

Your fingers dig into her ass, holding her firmly as you suck her clit into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the swollen bud. Chaewon gasps around your cock, her hips jerking against your face as her thighs tremble.

“Shit—oh fuck—” she gasps, pulling off your cock for just a second to catch her breath. A string of saliva connects her lips to your tip, and she doesn’t even bother wiping it away before diving back down, taking you deep with a lewd, wet sound.

You moan into her pussy, the vibrations making her shudder above you. Her hips grind against your face now, her body moving on instinct as her moans grow louder, more desperate. You focus on her clit, sucking and flicking your tongue relentlessly, feeling the way her body tightens beneath your hands.

“God—fuck—I’m so—” she stammers, her voice trembling as her thighs begin to shake. “I can’t—I’m gonna—oh my god—”

Her words spur you on, your mouth and tongue working overtime as you push her closer and closer to the edge. Her pussy clenches and spasms against your tongue, her juices flowing freely now, soaking your face as she loses control.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—” she cries out, her voice breaking as her body tenses.

Her orgasm hits her like a wave, her hips jerking wildly as her pussy pulses against your mouth. You don’t stop, your tongue lapping up every drop of her release, the salty-sweet taste of her flooding your senses.

Chaewon’s moans turn into sharp cries, her hands clutching at your thighs for balance as her body trembles violently. Her head tilts back, her hair sticking to her damp forehead as she gasps for air, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.

Her entire body shudders, her hips grinding one last time against your face before collapsing, her chest heaving as she lets out a shaky, satisfied moan. You pull back slightly, your lips and chin glistening with her release, and watch as she tries to catch her breath, her body still twitching from the aftershocks.

Chaewon’s body glistens in the dim light, her flushed skin still recovering from the intense orgasm you just gave her. Her dark eyes lock onto yours, shining with lust and something deeper—something unspoken but undeniably there.

You reach out, your hand sliding down her body slowly, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her hip. “Turn around,” you murmur, your voice low and thick. “Get on all fours.”

She doesn’t hesitate. With a languid grace, Chaewon shifts onto her hands and knees, her back arching as she adjusts herself. The sight in front of you is fucking breathtaking—her perky ass tilted up, her waist impossibly small, her thighs trembling just slightly as she steadies herself. Her pussy is glistening, swollen and wet, and your cock throbs painfully at the sight.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, stepping closer. Your hands move instinctively to her waist, gripping it gently at first, your thumbs brushing the soft skin just above her hips.

Chaewon glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling messily around her flushed face. Her lips curl into a sly smile as she notices the way your hands tighten on her. “Fits perfectly, doesn’t it?” she teases, her voice still breathy but filled with confidence.

“Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” you reply, your fingers digging into her waist slightly as your cock brushes against her wet entrance, teasing her. “You’re fucking incredible, Chaewon.”

She huffs out a soft laugh, then she bites her lip, her gaze steady as she says, “Go hard, okay? Make me scream.”

“You sure about that?” you ask, your voice rough as you press the head of your cock against her slick folds, teasing her clit.

“Don’t make me beg,” she mutters, her voice trembling slightly. “Just fucking do it.”

That’s all the encouragement you need. With one firm thrust, you push into her, burying yourself to the hilt. Her pussy is impossibly tight, wet, and warm, gripping you perfectly as you stretch her.

“Fuck—” Chaewon gasps, her back arching sharply as her hands clutch at the sheets. “Oh my God—”

Your hands tighten on her waist, holding her steady as you pull back slowly before slamming into her again, harder this time. Her cry echoes through the room, raw and unfiltered, and it only spurs you on.

“You feel so fucking good,” you growl, your hips snapping against hers with each thrust. “So fucking tight, Chaewon. Taking me so perfectly.”

“Fuck—yes—” she moans, her voice high and breathy as her body moves with yours. “Harder—please—don’t stop—”

Your grip on her waist tightens, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pound into her, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you. The sound of your bodies meeting—wet and obscene—fills the room, mixing with her breathless moans and your low groans.

“Scream for me, baby,” you growl, thrusting into her harder, deeper, making her cry out. “Come on, let me hear how much you love being my slut!”

“OH GOD—FUCK—You're fucking me so good!” she cries, her voice trembling as her head drops forward, her hair sticking to her damp skin. “You’re—oh fuck—”

You grip Chaewon’s waist tighter, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as your hips snap forward, burying yourself to the hilt inside her.

“Fuck—yes—fuck!” she screams, her head thrown back, hair sticking to her flushed skin. Her hands clutch at the sheets, pulling them tight as her body rocks forward with every thrust.

“Chaewon,” you growl, your voice low and rough, completely lost in the way she feels around you. “You’re so fucking perfect. This pussy—fuck—it’s mine. All fucking mine.”

“Yes—yes—it’s yours!” she gasps, her voice cracking as you drive deeper, harder, her words trembling with each thrust. “God—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Her legs tremble beneath you, her body arching beautifully, giving you an even better angle as you slam into her. You pull her closer, her ass pressing firmly against your hips with each rough thrust. The way she takes you—so tight, so wet, so eager—fuels something primal inside you, pushing you to fuck her even harder.

“Listen to you,” you murmur, leaning forward slightly, your lips brushing against the damp skin of her shoulder. “Screaming for me like you were made for this. Like you were made for me.”

“Fuck—yes—I was—I fucking was,” she babbles, her voice barely coherent as her nails dig into the sheets.

Your hand slides up her back, pressing her down just enough to make her arch even more. The new angle has you hitting deeper, and her response is immediate—a loud, desperate scream that sends a jolt of heat through your veins.

“That’s it,” you growl, your hand returning to her waist, gripping her like you never want to let go. “Tell me, baby, tell me you're my whore. I wanna hear you scream it.”

“Yours—fuck—oh God—I’m your whore!” she cries, her voice raw and filled with nothing but pleasure. Her body tightens around you, her walls clenching with every thrust as if she’s trying to pull you even deeper.

“That's it, baby, you’re mine,” you growl, your pace relentless as you slam into her over and over. “All fucking mine. Say it!”

“I’m yours—oh fuck—I’m yours!” she screams, her voice trembling as her hands clutch at the bed, her back arching beautifully. “God—you’re so fucking good—I’m so close—”

Her words send a wave of possessive need through you, chasing her pleasure as if it’s your own. The sound of her moans, her cries, her desperate gasps—it’s all too much and not enough, spurring you on like nothing else ever has, every thrust sending shockwaves through Chaewon’s trembling body as the bed creaks beneath you both. Her cries fill the room, loud and desperate, and the way she moans your name like a mantra only makes you go harder, deeper, until the sound of your hips slamming into her drowns out everything else.

Then an idea strikes, and without warning, you grab her arms, pulling them back until you’ve got both of her wrists in your grip. The shift makes her back arch further, her ass pressing harder against your hips, and the change in angle has her screaming almost immediately.

“Fuck—oh my God!” she cries, her voice trembling as her head falls forward.

You lean over her, keeping her wrists pinned as you growl into her ear, “You’re so fucking good like this, Chaewon. Letting me use you. Letting me make you mine.”

“Y-yes,” she gasps, her voice breaking as she shudders beneath you. “I’m yours—God, I’m yours—”

Your grip tightens on her wrists as you fuck her harder, her body jerking forward with each thrust. Her submission is intoxicating, the way she gives herself to you completely, her moans turning into needy, desperate whimpers that make your cock throb inside her.

“Look at you,” you growl, your voice low and filled with possessiveness. “So fucking slutty for me. Taking me so well. You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes—yes—fuck—” she babbles, her words slurring together as her walls tighten around you. “I love it, baby—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”

Her legs tremble beneath her, her body quivering with every rough thrust as you pound into her without mercy.

“You’re perfect,” you mutter, your hand releasing one of her wrists to grab her hair, pulling her head back so you can see her flushed, tear-streaked face. “So fucking perfect, Chaewon. My good girl. My little slut.”

She whimpers at your words, her lips trembling as she looks back at you with lust-glazed eyes. “Yours—I’m yours—I’ll be whatever you want—just don’t stop—please—”

Her submission sends a surge of heat through you, and you tighten your grip on her hair, your other hand still holding her remaining wrist as you thrust into her harder, faster, your cock hitting deeper with each movement.

“Fuck—you’re so good—so fucking good,” you growl, your voice rough as you watch her completely fall apart beneath you. Her body is yours, her moans and cries yours, and the way she clenches around you, wet and tight and perfect, makes it clear she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Your pace doesn’t falter as you release your hand from the grip on Chaewon's hair to move to her ass, her smooth skin practically glowing in the dim light. The sight of her beneath you—arched, trembling, taking every rough thrust—is enough to make your heart race with possessive pride.

Without warning, you bring your hand down hard against her cheek. The slap rings out loud and sharp, the sound almost deafening over the wet, obscene rhythm of your fucking.

“Ah—fuck!” Chaewon screams, her back arching further as her body jolts from the impact.

You grin, your palm tingling as you rub the spot where you struck, feeling the heat blooming under your touch. “You like that?” you growl, your voice low and teasing.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” she cries, her voice trembling. “Do it again—please—”

Her begging ignites something feral inside you, and you don’t make her wait. You bring your hand down again, harder this time, the sound even louder as it echoes through the room. Her ass jiggles from the force, the skin already turning a faint pink.

“Fuck, Chaewon,” you growl, gripping her waist tighter as you keep pounding into her. “You look so fucking good like this. Screaming for me, begging me to spank you. Such a good little slut.”

“Y-yes—God—please—more,” she babbles, her voice breaking into desperate gasps as her hands clutch the sheets beneath her.

You oblige, spanking her again, harder, the sting vibrating up your arm as her moans grow louder. Her ass reddens under your hand, the marks spreading with each slap, and the way she writhes beneath you, pushing her hips back for more, only makes you lose yourself further.

“Look at you,” you murmur, alternating between rough spanks and squeezing her reddened cheeks. “So fucking perfect. You love being punished, don’t you? Love being my little plaything.”

“Fuck—yes—I love it—” she gasps, her voice high and strained. “Please—don’t stop—don’t stop—”

Her pussy clenches tighter around your cock, her slick heat dripping down your length as you keep pounding into her.

“I'm gonna ruin you every fucking day from now on,” you growl, your voice thick with possessiveness. “This is what you’ve been craving, isn’t it, Chaewon? To be my dirty little whore, used and fucked exactly how I want.”

“Y-yes!” she cries, her voice cracking as her body shakes beneath you. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you to own me—since the first moment I saw you!”

Her words send a wave of heat through you, and you spank her again, your handprint glowing red on her perfect skin. She moans louder, her cries turning into broken whimpers as her body quivers with pleasure and pain.

You lean forward, pressing your chest against Chaewon’s back as your weight settles on top of her. The new position forces you even deeper inside her, and the moan that rips from her throat is nothing short of desperate. Her ass is still red and warm under your hips, and you grab her waist tightly, holding her in place as you grind into her, your cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her.

“Fuck—oh my God—” she cries, her fingers clawing at the sheets as her head tilts back, pressing against your shoulder. “You’re so fucking deep—I can’t—I can’t take it—”

“Yes, you can,” you growl against her neck, your voice rough as your lips trail along her flushed skin. “You’re made for this, Chaewon. Made to take me. You feel that? How perfect you are for me?”

Her response is a strangled moan, her legs trembling beneath you as you thrust into her harder, deeper, the wet sound of her pussy clenching around your cock mixing with her breathless gasps. Your hands slide up her body, gripping her shoulders as your mouth latches onto her neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave marks.

“Mine,” you murmur against her skin, your teeth grazing her ear. “You’re mine, Chaewon. No one else gets to have you like this. No one else gets to see you like this.”

“Yes—yes—I’m yours!” she gasps, her voice trembling with lust and something more. “You’re mine, too—fuck—you’re all mine—don’t forget it—”

Her words spur you on, your hips slamming against hers as you fuck her harder, your cock driving into her soaked pussy with relentless intensity. She’s writhing beneath you now, her hands reaching back to grab at your thighs, trying to pull you even closer.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” you growl, your lips still pressed to her neck. “So perfect, baby. Letting me fuck you like this...”

“Don’t stop—fuck—don’t stop,” she cries, her voice breaking into a series of gasps and moans. “You’re so—so fucking good—I can’t—I’m gonna lose it—”

You pull her closer, your chest flush against her back, your hands sliding up to tangle in her hair as you kiss her neck, her jaw, her shoulder. “You drive me crazy, Chaewon,” you murmur, your voice thick with need. “No one else—fuck—no one else makes me feel like this.”

She whimpers, her body arching against yours, her nails digging into your thighs as her pussy clenches tighter around you. “This fucking cock belongs to me,” she mutters, her voice low and fierce even through the haze of pleasure. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to fuck you like this. Just me.”

“Just you,” you agree, your lips brushing against her ear as you thrust into her harder, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. “Only you, Chaewon… Only you.”

Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her possessiveness fueling your own as you fuck her with everything you have, your mouth never leaving her skin, marking her as yours.

You feel Chaewon tighten around your cock, her walls clenching rhythmically, as her breath hitches and her body trembles beneath you. Her voice rises into a desperate, shaky moan.

“Oh my God—fuck—you’re—you’re gonna—” she stammers, her words barely coherent as her legs tremble and her hands grip the sheets. “You’re gonna make me cum—oh, fuck—”

Her warning lights a fire in you. You plant your hands on the bed for leverage, lifting your chest off her back as you start pounding into her with renewed intensity. Chaewon’s body is fully pressed into the mattress, her moans loud and uncontrollable with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?” you growl, slamming into her harder, faster, your cock driving deep into her soaked pussy with every stroke. “Come on, baby, let go for me. I want to feel you cum.”

Chaewon lets out a strangled cry, her words spilling out in broken fragments. “I’m—I’m gonna—fuck—it’s so—oh my God—it’s too much—”

You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you pull her back onto your cock, treating her like a perfect, desperate fucktoy. The obscene sound of your thrusts fills the room—wet, loud, and relentless—and it’s all too much.

Her voice climbs higher, her moans turning into desperate screams as she writhes beneath you, her body completely at your mercy. “I’m—I’m cumming—I’m cumming—oh, fuck—fuck—fuck—”

Her orgasm crashes over her like a wave, her entire body tensing as she lets out a guttural scream. Her pussy clamps down on you, tight and pulsing, soaking your cock with a flood of wetness. The sheets beneath her are drenched as her release gushes out, her legs trembling uncontrollably.

Chaewon’s cries turn into babbling, her words slurred and disconnected as her head thrashes against the pillow. “Oh—God—I can’t—fuck—it’s too—so good—fuck—you’re—”

You don’t stop, driving her through the peak of her orgasm, your hips slamming against her as she quivers beneath you, her body shaking with aftershocks. Her nails claw at the sheets, her thighs trembling violently as her moans dissolve into breathless whimpers.

Finally, you slow your movements, your hands sliding up to soothe her hips as her body collapses fully onto the bed. Chaewon’s breathing is ragged, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath, her face flushed and glowing with the aftermath of her release.

You feel the heat building fast, your cock throbbing inside Chaewon’s soaked pussy as her walls pulse around you. The slick, tight heat of her drives you closer to the edge, and you know you’re seconds away. Your thrusts grow erratic, your breath ragged, and you groan deeply.

“Chaewon,” you manage, your voice strained. “I’m gonna cum—where do you want it?”

She’s still panting beneath you, her body trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. Her hair is a messy halo around her flushed face, and her eyes, half-lidded and lust-filled, meet yours. “All over me,” she breathes, her voice husky and demanding. “I want it all over my body.”

Her words send a jolt through you, and you pull out of her slowly, groaning at the wet drag as her pussy reluctantly lets you go. “Lie back,” you tell her, your voice low and rough.

She obeys immediately, shifting onto her back and spreading her legs, her body sprawled out for you. Her skin glows in the soft light, flushed and glistening with sweat, her chest rising and falling as she stares up at you.

You kneel between her legs, your cock slick with her juices, throbbing and aching for release. Wrapping your hand around your length, you start stroking yourself, the wet sound of your movements mixing with the heavy breathing between you.

The head of your cock brushes against her entrance as you jerk off, rubbing against her folds, teasing her clit as you use her heat to drive yourself further. She gasps softly at the contact, her hands gripping the sheets as her hips shift slightly, her body instinctively chasing the friction.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your eyes locked on her. “You’re so fucking perfect, Chaewon. Look at you—messy, panting—so fucking gorgeous.”

She smirks faintly, her voice still breathless as she murmurs, “It’s all for you. I’m all for you.”

Her words fuel your need, and you stroke yourself faster, the tightness in your abdomen coiling as you feel the orgasm building. Chaewon notices, her gaze dropping to your cock, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Come on,” she whispers, her voice low and possessive. “Cum for me. Cover me with it. I want all of it—all of you.”

Her dirty encouragement pushes you to the brink, and your strokes grow faster, harder, the head of your cock pressing against her entrance with every movement. “Fuck, Chaewon—” you groan, your voice breaking as the tension snaps.

The first spurt of cum shoots out hot and thick, landing just below her breasts, painting her flushed skin. Another follows, splattering across her abdomen, her pelvis, dripping down toward her pussy. You keep stroking, the pleasure overwhelming as you empty yourself onto her, every spurt marking her as yours.

Chaewon moans softly, her hands sliding up her body, spreading the sticky heat of your cum over her skin. Her eyes gleam as she looks up at you, her voice low and sultry. “That’s it—so good—so fucking good. Your cum is so warm, damn....”

You shudder at her words, your hand slowing as the last few drops spill from your cock, dripping onto her already glistening skin. Panting, you lean back slightly, your cock still throbs, the sensitivity almost unbearable, yet there’s more—your balls feel heavy, not yet spent. Chaewon lies beneath you, her body painted with streaks of your cum, her fingers lazily tracing through the mess on her skin as she gazes up at you with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"That can’t be all you’ve got," she teases, her voice soft but dripping with hunger. She trails a hand down to her stomach, scooping some of your cum onto her fingers before bringing it to her lips, sucking them clean. "I know there’s more in there. I want every drop, every fucking bit. I’m your cumslut—give it to me."

Groaning, you grip your cock, still hard and slick from your first release. "You greedy fucking slut," you mutter, your voice strained, raw. "You’re not satisfied until I empty myself completely, are you?"

"Never," she breathes, spreading her legs wider, her body arching slightly as if inviting you back inside. "Cum for me again. Paint me. Use me however you want—just don’t stop."

You shift between her thighs, lining up your cock with her swollen, soaked entrance. Even with your sensitivity, the sight of her, her body glistening with sweat and cum, drives you forward. You push into her, groaning as her tight, slick heat engulfs you again, every nerve ending screaming in overstimulation.

"Fuck—this is so good," you growl, gripping her hips hard as you start moving. The wet slap of your thrusts fills the air, mingling with her cries of pleasure as you pump into her with a slow, deliberate rhythm, determined to coax every last drop from yourself.

Chaewon clings to you, her nails dragging down your back, her breathless voice pleading. "Yes—more—fuck me harder. I want it all, every fucking drop!"

Her words fuel you, your pace quickening despite the overwhelming sensitivity. Your cock twitches inside her, the ache in your balls intensifying as you edge closer again. You pull her legs higher, changing the angle to drive deeper, her cries turning into high-pitched whimpers as her pussy clamps down around you, desperate and needy.

"Chaewon," you groan, your voice breaking. "I’m close—fuck—you’re gonna take everything."

"Yes, yes, please!" she begs, her hands roaming her cum-covered body, spreading it across her breasts, her stomach, even up to her neck. "Fill me with cum—own me!"

The sight of her—her fingers rubbing your cum into her skin, her lips parted in pure ecstasy—is too much. You pull out suddenly, climbing up her body until your cock is level with her face. “Open your mouth,” you command, your voice rough and trembling.

She obeys immediately, her lips parting as she looks up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. Her tongue flicks out slightly, teasing, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

You stroke yourself quickly, your cock slick and throbbing, the tension building impossibly fast. “Fuck—Chaewon—I’m gonna—”

Your words cut off as you cum, the first thick spurt landing directly on her tongue. She moans softly, her eyes fluttering closed as more of your release fills her mouth, hot and heavy.

Each spurt is stronger than the last, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Your body trembles, your groans filling the room as you spill everything into her waiting mouth.

When it finally subsides, you watch as Chaewon looks up at you, her tongue still out, showing you the thick pool of cum resting there. Her lips curl into a mischievous, naughty smile before she closes her mouth and swallows it all in one go, the motion deliberate and slow.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your chest heaving as you watch her.

She grins, her tongue darting out to lick her lips before leaning forward. “Missed a spot,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

Her lips wrap around the head of your cock, soft and warm as she sucks lightly, her tongue swirling to clean the remnants of your release. Even with the sensitivity, it feels incredible, and you groan softly, your fingers brushing against her cheek.

When she finally pulls back, she looks up at you with that same naughty smile, her lips glistening. “All clean,” she says, her tone playful.

"Goddamn, you're such a slut," you mutter, your body trembling, utterly spent but unable to tear your eyes away from her.

She grins. “I told you—I’m your cumslut.”

languidly you sit up on the edge of the bed, still catching your breath, your body slick with sweat and the aftermath of everything you’ve just done. Chaewon lies sprawled out on the bed, hair messy and sticking to her face, her chest still rising and falling.

“Fuck,” you say, running a hand through your damp hair. “That was… pretty intense, huh?”

She snorts, throwing an arm over her eyes as she stretches, the movement casual but still impossibly sexy. “You’re calling it intense? My ass is still burning from all those slaps, thanks to you.”

You glance over at her, a flicker of guilt crossing your face. “Shit. Uh, sorry about that…”

She pulls her arm down to glare at you, but her lips twitch with a smirk. “Don’t apologize. I liked it.”

Your mouth opens, then closes. “Oh. Uh. Good?”

“Great, actually,” she says, laughing softly as she shifts onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. ��But now I need to ask. Was this all part of some master plan?”

You frown, confused. “Plan? What plan?”

She gestures between you. “This. You acting like a sad, helpless puppy so I’d feel sorry for you and bring you here. Then, bam—you flip the script, fuck me senseless, and prove you’re not as pathetic as you looked at work.”

You stare at her for a beat, then burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Come on, Chaewon. You really think I’m that calculated?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

“Trust me,” you say, still laughing, “if you hadn’t dragged me out of the office, I’d be at home right now. Sad. Lonely. Probably halfway through a tub of ice cream and binge-watching Breaking Bad for the third time.”

Chaewon snickers, clearly enjoying the mental image. “Ice cream and Walter White. God, you are hopeless.”

“Exactly,” you reply, grinning. “So no, this wasn’t planned. But… I’m not complaining about how it turned out.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, me neither.”

A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment before she sits up slightly, glancing at the nightstand. “What time is it?”

You lean over, squinting at the alarm clock. “Almost ten-thirty.”

She groans, falling back onto the pillows. “No wonder I’m starving. We didn’t eat shit at the bar.”

Your stomach growls loudly, and you laugh. “Yeah, same here.”

Chaewon looks over at you, her hair falling into her eyes as she smirks. “Pizza?”

“Pizza,” you agree immediately.

She scoots over to the other side of the bed, grabs the pants off the floor, and pulls her phone out of the pocket, scrolling through her delivery app. “What do you want on it?”

You shrug, lying back down beside her. “I’m not picky. Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words,” she teases, glancing at you. “I could order anchovies and pineapple, and you’d have to deal with it.”

You mock gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

She grins, nudging your shoulder. “Relax. I’ll pick something safe. Pepperoni and sausage okay?”

“Perfect,” you say, watching her as she places the order.

As the confirmation screen pops up, she sets her phone down and looks at you, her eyes still holding that familiar mischievous glint. “You better have enough energy left to help me eat it, because I’m not carrying your dead weight through another round tonight.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fair enough. Let’s refuel, then we’ll see who’s carrying who.”

Her smirk widens. “You’re on, puppy.”

Without warning, Chaewon approaches and settles onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, her body warm and soft against you. The heat of her skin pressed to yours grounding you in a way that feels almost surreal. Her arms loop loosely around your neck, and her face is closer than you expected, her dark eyes searching yours with a softness that contrasts her usual sharpness.

“So,” she begins, her voice quiet but laced with a teasing edge. “How are we gonna handle this… thing now?”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “This thing?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice in it. “Don’t play dumb. Us. This.” She gestures vaguely between your naked bodies.

“Right,” you say, your hands sliding up her sides to rest on her waist. “I guess… we should figure that out.”

She smirks, leaning in slightly, her nose brushing against yours. “You’re not going back to pretending this didn’t happen, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply quickly, your tone firm. “How could I, after… everything?”

Chaewon’s smirk softens into a small, genuine smile, and she tilts her head, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle watching you mope around the office pretending this didn’t mean something.”

“It means something,” you say quietly, your thumbs brushing against her waist. “I just… didn’t know it meant something to you too.”

She looks away for a second, her cheeks turning pink, but then she sighs and meets your gaze again. “It always did,” she admits, her voice softer now. “I’ve liked you for a long time. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way—or if you were too busy chasing every girl who wasn’t me to notice.”

You wince slightly. “Ouch.”

“I’m just saying,” she teases, though there’s a hint of truth in her tone. “You always seemed to go for the ones who didn’t care about you. Meanwhile, I…” She trails off, biting her lip. “I noticed you.”

Your chest tightens at her words, and you reach up to cup her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin. “When?”

Her lips curve into a faint smile, her eyes flicking to the side as if she’s remembering something. “There were moments,” she says after a pause. “Like the time you stayed late to help me with that awful report, even though you didn’t have to. Or the time you lent me your jacket after I spilled coffee all over myself, even though it was freezing outside and you looked like an idiot walking around in just your shirt.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I remember that. I thought you were going to yell at me for being too nice.”

“I almost did,” she admits with a grin. “But then I realized… I didn’t want you to stop.”

Her words settle between you, heavy and meaningful, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then Chaewon leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that feels more like a promise than anything else.

When she pulls back, her eyes are brighter, her expression teasing again. “Anyway, you’re stuck here all weekend, remember? I think we’ve got plenty of time to figure this out.”

You grin, your hands sliding down to rest on her hips. “You’re right. And for the record, I’m not complaining.”

“Good,” she murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. This one is deeper, slower, her fingers tangling in your hair as your hands tighten on her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss breaks only when she laughs softly, her forehead resting against yours. “This feels… nice,” she says, her voice quiet.

“Yeah,” you agree, your thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “It does.”

The two of you stay like that for a while, exchanging kisses and soft touches, the weight of the moment settling into something warm and intimate.

It’s simple, and yet it feels like everything.

[pupuyvs]

honestly ー minjeong smau

⇢ synopsis Chaluai “Bambi” Yontararak and Kim Minjeong were the couple everyone thought would last forever. That is until the summer before freshman year Minjeong randomly breaks up with her and starts dating Huh Yunjin. Determined to not let that ruin her first year of college Bambi swears to forget about Minjeong and enjoy her newfound single status. What happens when a situation occurs and forces them back into each other’s lives?

⇢ genre smau + written, non!idol au, toxicex!winter, skater!femoc, slight fluff, angst, humor

⇢ warnings kys/kms jokes, toxic ass winter, implied cheating, implied mature content (nothing explicit no worries), the friend group are potheads so underage smoking, underage drinking (they’re in college)

⇢ status ongoing

⇢ updates whenever

⇢ taglist open

⇢ featuring aespa, huh yunjin and kim chaewon (lesserafim), jeon heejin (loona/artms), lee sohee (riize), minnie (g-idle), more to come…

profiles: rocket power | barbies

chapters:

prologue

01

02

03

04

05

06

07 (half-written)

08

09

10

more to come…

[0cta9on]

Chaewon Fluff but best friends turn to lovers pleaseee!!! Really love your writing btw!!!

Thank you for the request and the kind words, sorry this took so long to put out :^) Hopefully I made up for the wait by making it extra cute and giving it that rom-com corniness :]

“Well that was…”

“...Shit.”

After weeks of catfishes and awkward talking stages, both you and Chaewon finally found dates from a dating app. Things were going fine at first - the girl you matched with was cute, funny, and matched your energy, and it seemed like things were going well with Chaewon and her match too. You brought up the idea of a double date at a KBBQ place as a fun way to get to know each other’s dates. Chaewon is your best friend after all and you wouldn’t want her to end up with the personification of a red flag.

You got to the restaurant first, talking and flirting with your date while you waited. For once, it seemed like your dating life was going in the right direction. However, that all changed when she made eye contact with Chaewon’s man. Coincidentally, both your dates were exes in a toxic relationship, evidenced by the screaming match and the mess of thrown side dishes they made as they stormed out of the restaurant, leaving you and Chaewon completely stunned.

You slump into your seat, letting out a resigned groan. “God dammit…” You mutter under your breath. Chaewon sits across from you, unsure of how to react from the altercation. The server comes by to replace the side dishes that had been tossed out by your dates alongside the meat you ordered and a bottle of soju.

“Um, we didn’t order any soju,” you say, confused.

“”Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. You two look like you could use it.” She gives you a sympathetic look before disappearing into the kitchen. You twist off the cap and bring it to your lips before Chaewon stops you.

“Yah,” she utters, holding up a shot glass. “Give me some too.”

Chuckling, you pour her a shot which she downs almost instantly. Fatigue hangs in the air between the two of you, yet it’s almost comical in a way. Truthfully, you’re almost glad that all of this blew up in your faces. For years, you couldn’t shake the feeling that every girl you’ve ever dated was just “wrong” for you. You thought it was stress from school or work that made it difficult to maintain a healthy relationship, but that feeling lingered even at the best of times. The fact that you don’t have to go through the ordeal of breaking up with someone again felt refreshing.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say, finally breaking the prolonged silence.

“Eh, it’s fine. To be honest, I’m kinda glad that happened.”

Your ears perk up with intrigue. “Really?”

“He was a nice guy and all, but something just felt… off,” she admits, blankly watching the meat cook on the grill as if she’s lost in thought. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for dating.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You pour out more shots for the both of you, the smooth liquid slipping down your throat and slowly releasing your inhibitions.

“What about you?” She mutters. “It looked like you really liked her.”

“I mean…” You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. Did you really actually like her, or were you just playing the role that you were supposed to play? You bought her gifts, you kissed her, you slept with her, but aren’t those things boyfriends are expected to do? Did you really, truly feel anything for her?

“I don’t know. I thought I did, but… maybe not.”

Chaewon snickers as she pours another shot, a glimpse of a smirk dancing on her lips.. “I guess we’re both just unlucky, huh.”

You can’t help but laugh at your predicament, downing another shot like it’s water. The alcohol swims around in your system, loosening you up and making you forget about the girl in a matter of seconds. In fact, the only thing you can think about is the girl sitting in front of you, drinking her problems away just like you are.

“I just had a funny thought,” Chaewon snickers, the alcohol taking a noticeable toll on her already. 

You lean forward, intrigued. “What is it?”

“What if…” She pauses for dramatic effect, peering deeply into your eyes. You feel warmth enveloping your cheeks and you're not sure if it’s from the soju or her. “...Never mind.”

“Yah, Kim Chaewon!” You exclaim, annoyed.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid.” She sinks into her seat, covering her face in embarrassment.

“I promise you, there’s nothing you could say that could make this night any worse.”

Her gaze falls to the ground as she nervously twiddles her fingers. She looks so cute when she makes that face like she’s deep in thought. Her nose scrunches and her cheeks puff up slightly, it makes you want to just pinch her cheeks. For the first time that night, you notice her outfit - like really notice her outfit. The black mini dress hugs her petite frame, making her look like a doll. You want nothing else but to hold her and kiss her pretty face and tell her how beautiful she is and-

“Why are you staring?”

You shake your head, getting a grip on reality for a moment. “Nothing. Anyways, what were you going to say?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you. But… you can’t laugh,” she says, her words slurring just a bit.

“No prob, bob.” You laugh at your own joke, which goes unnoticed by Chaewon.

“When we turn 30…. Why don’t… we get married?”

You freeze completely, unsure of whether or not you heard correctly. Is she that drunk already that she would suggest something as insane as that? You two have been best friends since diapers, you grew up together, you’ve seen each other at your lowest lows and celebrated each other's highest highs. You know everything there is to know about Kim Chaewon. A strange warmth fills your chest, a warmth that’s definitely not from the alcohol. Before you can even think, the words are spoken aloud.

“Why wait?”

Chaewon’s head shoots up, flustered. “W-what?!”

It takes you a second to process your own words. As you meet her eyes, you feel something that you never felt for the other girl. That lingering feeling you’ve had for ages has grown, filling every cell in your body. “I-I mean… we’ve known each other our whole lives. It only makes sense right? No awkward talking stages, no misunderstandings. Just… you and me.”

Time freezes around you, neither of you saying another word or even blinking. Suddenly, Chaewon storms out of the restaurant, leaving you drunk and confused. Did you say something wrong? Or maybe you didn’t say anything at all? Maybe you drank so much that you’re actually passed out on the table and this entire thing is just a weird dream.

“Yah, are you gonna go after her or not?” You turn towards the sound of the voice to see the server standing over you, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“Wha-”

She slaps your shoulder. “Hurry up fool, she’s getting away!” The pain in your shoulder is a sign that this is all very real and not a dream. You quickly grab your jacket and run out the door, a gust of cold air sobering you up.

“Chaewon!” You frantically search through the crowded streets, illuminated by a few dingy street lights. In the distance, you spot her hailing down a taxi. You shove through the crowd, receiving some dirty looks and expletives from strangers, but you don’t care. You just need her. You’ve always needed her. And she’s one foot inside the taxi, about to disappear forever.

Right as she goes to shut the door, you reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her. “Wait!” You exclaim.

“W-what?” Her voice quivers like a delicate feather in a harsh wind, threatening to break. Chaewon’s head is turned away from you, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Don’t go. Please. Not until we talk about this.”

“W-what is there to talk about, it was just a stupid idea anyways-”

“No, it’s not!” Your entire body feels warm despite the frigid winds as your heart thumps with the weight of an entire sun. “I don’t know why it took me so long to realize, but I just can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. I thought maybe if I kept looking, I would find the one, but… You were right here all along.”

Chaewon finally turns to look at you, revealing the tears falling from her eyes, glistening like diamonds against her skin. “I-I can’t…”

You gently cup her face, wiping her tears away with your thumbs. “We can make it work-”

“No!” She shouts, hitting your chest with her fist. She collapses into you, sobbing, and all you can do is hold her until she eventually calms down. Fear, confusion, pain, all of these emotions swirl in your mind like a tornado, wreaking havoc on everything you know and feel, making it impossible to think straight.

Chaewon pushes away from you slightly, still sniffling. “Every relationship I’ve ever been in… It always ended badly… A-and… I don’t want you to hate me too…”

You wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Nothing you could ever do could make me hate you. You could hit me with a car and I would still love you,” you joke.

“Yah,” she exclaims weakly, laughing through the tears. “Don’t try to cheer me up, you’re too good for me.” Suddenly, her face turns serious as she peers up at you. “D-did you just say you… love me?”

You pull Chaewon into a delicate kiss, causing her to freeze in shock. Eventually, she melts into the kiss, wrapping her arms around your head and lazily playing with your hair. Her plush lips feel like heaven against yours, a feeling that you never want to let go of. Everything about her feels correct. No lingering thoughts about another girl, no expectations of filling a role, just pure love.

“I’ve always loved you, Chaewon. And I always will,” you say as you look straight into her irises. Chaewon smiles before pulling you into another kiss, one that warms you up despite the shivering breeze blowing past. A kiss that is nothing short of perfect.

[xo-lesserafim]

THE FAKE GIRLFRIEND

CREDITS TO @livelovecaliforniadreams for gif

MIN HO SMAU

synopsis: As a billionaire’s daughter, Life was good. Your mother’s best friend was Dami, Min ho’s mother. When you guys first met, it was HELL. Ever since then, you guys have been enemies. But one day, Min ho comes up to you asking to be in a fake relationship so all the girls can stop hitting on me. You happen to accept, not knowing the love that will bloom.

STATUS: ON HOLD?

POSTED/STARTED: June 29,2023

ENDED: ?

TROPE(S): Fake relationship, enemies to lovers ( lmk if I’m missing anything!)

PAIRINGS: Min ho x Y/ N (aka Blossom Mo or Mo Bora. Nicknames are Bloom, Bubbles.)

GENRE: Fluff, Angst, High school au, SMAU (lmk ifI needed to add anything.

WARNING: Swearing, kys, me tryna add funny stuff that isn’t funny. (Lmk if I should ass something.)

a/n: Enjoy this, my min ho fanfic, and a sunghoon smau i am plainning. Please enjoy<3

PROFILES: Bubble pop’in girlies<3 THE BOYZZ

CHAPTERS.

1.

TAGLIST: @chaewon-slays @lysira340 @ms-green-t @sparkysparking101 @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @sincerely-aaronette @cherrriesss @delulu4-life

(Bole cant tag)

send a comment or ask to be added!

Copyrights © 2023 xo-lesserafim. All rights reserved. I do not own XO, Kitty , Netflix does. do not copy, translate, or repost anything without my permission.

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[natasha-in-space]

Sparkly Rika and Chaewon!

Also I got too lazy for a proper background so I just put them on the mobile dating-sim bg lmao

In another life, where nothing ever goes wrong and those two are just cute, sappy girlfriends living out their best lives...

[wifeiy]

hehehehe i love You my summer !!!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

u have probably heard/read me say 90% of these yet I still ran out of tags SOMEHOW. one of tehse days we will be together when it rains and Won't that be lovely day. also ride your wave + maquia + eeaao + your name (idk y). Ok i willstop rhere fr. see u in like 10 hours. HEH.

TELL ME WHAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH ME

COLORS, SONGS, AESTHETICS, PEOPLE, ANYTHTING

[silkizui]

  ( ♡ ) 𝖣𝖸𝖪 ？  ₍ ⋅ ˚ ଳ ₊ ‧ ₎      

⠀꒰⠀⠀ꢾ୧ Working as the secretary to Park Sunghoon, devastatingly attractive, emotionally constipated CEO should be stressful. But honestly? You’re just confused. Why does your boss get you coffee every morning with handwritten notes? Why does he go silent whenever you mention a date? Why does everyone in the office think he’s in love with you? ⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀۫⠀✷⠀

##### — Smau, one-shot smau (ig), fluff, crack (idk), ceo x secretary, down!bad sunghoon, cursing, kms/kys jokes, Emo!sunghoon (at one part), jealousy

FT. Enha (hyung line), lesserafim (chaewon and yunjin) two oc’s (chaerin and Jiwon),

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི Had so much fun writing this, like I was lowk giggling at some parts call me crazy all you want I’m not gonna deny it 😭 don’t even ask how I came up with the title 💔 well it does show in the smau

[iznsfw]

Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 

You don’t. 

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

-

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

-

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 

i miss you 

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 

What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 

Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” 

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?” 

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 

The tears finally fall from her eyes. 

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…” 

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

-

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

[mrlive685]

MASTERLIST

I started this blog to create a story from my imagination about Kpop Female Idols, especially Ive, Aespa, Lesserafim, Nmixx, Twice, Newjeans,Red Velvet, Snsd, and other soloist like Kwon Eunbi, Choi Yena, and Jo yuri. All my stories would be smut and nsfw stories so if you are triggered by it, you could ignore me. So this my simple list story from now"

2nd Pov Story.

Sex Education. (Male oc x Sana (Twice), Sullyoon (Nmixx)

Roleplay. (Male oc x Wonyoung (Ive)

stepmother secret. (Male oc x Karina (Aespa)

Waterbomb tradition (male or x Eunbi)

Roleplay II (male or x Yujin (Ive)

Fxxxk Buddies (male oc x Chaewon Lesserafim)

MY Friend's Mom ( Male oc x Karina Aespa)

Roleplay III (Male oc x Wonyoung and yujin Ive)

Truth or Dare (male oc x Karina Aespa and Yujin Ive)

King's Game (male oc x Karina Aespa &Yuna Itzy& Sullyoon Nmixx and Yujin I've as cameo.

1st Pov Story

Office Affair ( male oc x Yujin Ive)

[pupuyvs]

goal! ー chaewon smau

➼ Synopsis Yoo Jihye and her friends are the biggest losers in school. Though proud of the title, it seems to bite her when someone decides to sign her up for the school’s soccer team as a prank. Now forced to play the full season, how will Jihye survive, especially when the team’s captain is dating her crush, head cheerleader Kim Chaewon.

➼ Genre smau + written, wlw, non-idol au, cheerleader!chaewon, loser!femoc, fluff, comedy, slight angst

➼ Pairing Kim Chaewon x fem!oc

➼ Warning kms/kys jokes, mentions of bullying, homophobic jokes

➼ Status completed

➼ Updates whenever

➼ Taglist closed

➼ featuring: aespa, le sserafim, yeji (itzy), yuna (itzy), ahn yujin (ive), jang wonyoung (ive), yeonjun (txt), mark (nct), wonbin (riize), more to come…

➼ a/n decided chaewon nation deserved a blessing after eay, once again though there is an oc however you can view it as reader i truly don’t mind other than that enjoy!!

profiles: loser club | cheerios | tigers | others

chapters:

01

02

03

04

05

06

07

08

09

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38 (written)

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47 (written)

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

72

73

74

75

76 (written)

final (written)

epilogue (written)

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 YOU’RE NO GOOD FOR ME (but baby i want you) huh yunjin x reader

↳ warnings idol au/band au, oc band, chaewon is stressed, yunjin doesn’t listen and is down bad, swearing

paranoia has been the name that yunjin and probably everyone else in the world have has been hearing since the band’s teaser photos were dropped.

it’s not everyday that a band makes it big in the kpop scene especially internationally as well, most people don’t pay much attention to them, paranoia sm entertainments first ever band definitely had everyone’s attention.

the band has been on billboards everywhere in korea, their music playing in every store, it’s not everyday you see a band with such various sounds of music get this much attention, but yunjin was loving it.

the band intrigued her, there were three of them two boys one girl, the girl intrigued her the most, how does she survive with living with two boys? how did she deal with the press? how was she so talented? how was she so talented does she like girls?

yeah maybe she has a little crush on the lead singer of paranoia, but it was never gonna happen…

that was until she found out she was chaewon’s childhood friend.

“you’re friends with paranoia’s totally not super hot lead singer?!” yunjin exclaims, “and you didn’t tell me?!”

“her name is yn.” chaewon states as she puts milk into her cereal, “and why is it such a big deal?”

“because she’s cool and you can introduce me to her.” yunjin said in a duh tone. “she’s also hot.”

“nope.”

“what?”

“you stay away from yn.” chaewon says pointing her spoon at yunjin, “and I mean it stay away from her.”

“what,” yunjin whined, “you’re no fun, don’t you want me to be in love to be happy.” she exits the kitchen and walks past sakura, “tell chaewon unnie that I deserve to be in love.”

“what’s that about love?” chaewon turns to see sakura walking into the kitchen rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“yunjin wants me to introduce her to yn.” she sighs, “never gonna happen.”

“why?”

“did you seriously just ask me why?” chaewon asks dramatically, “yunjin doesn’t take relationships seriously and we already know about yn, that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

sakura nods understandingly, “yeah, they’d destroy each other.”

“exactly and I will do everything in my power to make such they don’t cross paths.”

✮✮

chaewon’s plans definitely did not go as planned.

she tensely watched as yunjin looked at the other side of the room where paranoia stood, yn standing between her two other band members as they listened to their manager give them a lecture about goofing around.

the band and the girl group were invited to a event and the huge difference between their behaviours were very apparent, one group had media and behaviour training the other obviously didn’t.

yunjin couldn’t help but smile as she watched the trio barely pay attention to their manager’s words making him manager even more annoyed, obviously fed up with dumb, dumber and dumbest he walked off and sat with the rest of the managers.

yunjin wonders how it feels to be them, they’re so carefree when it comes to their music and behaviours yet are still so successful and loved, they’re not held up to the standard that her and her group are held up to, if she acted how those three acted she’d definitely be blacklisted.

that would actually be a great conversation starter…

yunjin moves from where she’s standing to make her way to the band, more preferably yn but is stopped by chaewon’s hand, “no.”

“I’m just gonna say hi.” yunjin says brushing off the leaders hand, “I’m not going to do anything bad trust me.” and with that she heads to the trio.

“this girl…” sakura puts her hand on chaewon’s shoulder, “hey, calm down, maybe she really is just saying hi.”

yeah right…

as yunjin makes her way to the band, she can overhear their conversation, which makes sense cause they’re definitely the loudest in the room.

“he’s definitely on his last straw.” one of the guys known as wonbin says laughing, “his face was so red.”

“I actually thought this morning was his last straw, when jay blew up the toilet,” yn says hitting jaehyun’s stomach who shoots her a dirty look.

“in my defence, I swear the people at the restaurant put laxatives in my pasta,”

yunjin scrunch’s up her face in disgust but makes her way closer to the band anyway, she was starting to feel a little nervous but she didn’t want to give chaewon the satisfaction of her turning around.

when she stands in front of them wonbin is the first to look at her, while yn and jaehyun’s had their faces in jaehyun’s phone.

“uh hello?” he says causing the other two to look up.

“hey, I just wanted to say I’m like such a big fan of your music, it’s crazy how popular you guys got in such a short amount of time.” yunjin says her heart racing as yn’s eyes scan her.

“I would say like your music too, but I don’t listen to lesserafim,” jaehyun says shamelessly causing yn to hit his stomach again and wonbin reaches over to hit the back of his head both of them hitting him at the same time.

“ow! what the fuck, you guys so are abusive.” he whines.

“you open your mouth and stupid comes out.” yn shakes her head before giving yunjin a nod of acknowledgement, “what he meant to say is thank you.” she gives yunjin a charming smile which makes yunjin just want to melt into a puddle, “chaewon unnie has mentioned you a couple of times, it’s nice to meet you.”

“no problem, I actually saw your manager chew you guys out, it must be fun to be so carefree.” she says watching as yn adjusts her baggy jeans, the band were the only people at this event not dressed formally which made them stand out.

her eyes focus on the tattoos on yn’s hands and can’t help but open her mouth, “is that real.”

“yeah it’s real.” yn says, “and yeah he’s always on us, it’s honestly like our daily ritual to piss him off.”

yunjin couldn’t help but laugh at the girls words not even paying attention to the two boys who definitely caught on the why yunjin is actually talking to them, giving each other a look above yn’s head.

there’s silence and yunjin is starting to take in how awkward this is getting, “well, it was nice to meet you guys I’m gonna go get a drink, you guys should come.” she says to them but her focus was on yn.

“we’re good.” wonbin says, “but yn was talking about being thirsty so…” he pushes the shorter girl towards yunjin, almost making her trip on her big platforms.

“trying to get rid of me?” yn teases, “don’t go making out when I’m gone.” she says walking away with yunjin who can’t help but giggle like a school girl at every word yn says.

“I like hot chicks!”

“that’s what they all say!”

they walk over to the table with has the drinks, yunjin picks up a water passing yn one as well, she watches as yn leans against the wall beside the table opening the water bottle.

“so…” yunjin trails off, “how’s life of fame treating you? it must be crazy, you debuted what like three months ago and I can’t escape your faces on the streets.” she jokes mentally patting herself on the back when yn laughs at her words.

“it’s been fun honestly,” yn says tucking some of her hair back revealing yet another tattoo on her back which spells out paranoia in hangul, “experiencing having a fanbase is the most fun, it’s crazy seeing that much people love you.”

“lots of fangirls for you huh?”

“boys actually.”

yunjin eyes open in surprise, “that’s a shocker.”

yn adjusts the ring on fingers and looks up at yunjin, “how so?”

instead of answering yn’s question her eyes trail down to the tatted hand and then her neck, “how many tats do you have?”

“only three.” yn says taking a sip of her water.

“where’s the third one?”

“most people find out about it on the third date.” yn responds teasingly raising a brow at yunjin who feels her face heat up slightly.

“oh really?” the taller girl asks, “lucky aren’t they?”

“I like to think so.”

yunjin chuckles, she’s never met someone who can talk to her like how she talks to them, “will I be lucky like them?”

“you’re quite forward aren’t you?”

“I like to talk.” yunjin shrugs.

“let���s see if you can talk when I’m done with you.” yn says before laughing at the look of yunjin’s face, “I’m joking, chaewon unnie told me to stay away from you.”

yunjin opens her mouth to protest, but is cut off by yn patting her shoulder, “thanks for the drink.” and with that she walks back over to band members.

“shit.”

“what?” asks before following chaewon’s eyes that are looking at a breathless yunjin and a yn walking away from her, obviously in a completely different place from where the band was meaning they went off alone with each other.

“oh…”

[xo-lesserafim]

FALLING FOR YOUR SMILE AND EYES

EPISODE 7. TIL

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry I waa gone a little bit i had to plan because episode 7+ wasn’t following Xo Kitty’s timeline. Also thank you guys sm for 250 likes and 21 followers. You guys are so amazing. Anyways, enjoy<3

Bold: Korean

Italics: Over the phone

Both: Korean and over the phone.

Back to masterlist

Okay, so no coffee with Q.

It’s fine, I’ll just head to Jenny’s modeling place after I get coffee.

“Order for *coffee order.*” The barista said.

“Thank you, have a great day!” I said.

“You too.” They said.

I made it to the place, and I was amazed.

There was a lot of things happening at once, but it was AMAZING!!

“Andrea!” Jenny said.

“Hi.”

“I’m going to speak Korean mainly, is there a name you would like be to say when I speak Korean?”

“Ah-ri or Ae ri will do.”

“Do you prefer one?”

“Ah-ri when we are alone, Ae ri with other people.”

“Alright.”

“By the way., call me eonnie”

“Anyway…”

I was zoning out, excited for my new career.

A picture of the modeling.

TIME SKIP: 8 HOURS LATER

“I am so glad you called me before I went home to get ramen.” I said

“You’re welcome, anyway, how was modeling?” Q asked.

“IT WAS AMAZING!” I said excited.

I blabbed on all the amazing stuff that happened and the outfits!

“Wow, that seemed fun!” Q said.

“Boring, as ever.”

“Oof. How was Min ho and Kitty?” I asked.

“Kitty has been okay, she’s always asking if your okay, and she’s so worried. And Min ho, he hasn’t been himself, he’s only been himself if Kitty’s around.” Q said.

“Are you gonna come back to the dorms?”

“Maybe, I just don’t feel comfortable going back yet. Plus Jenny or Ji-ae eonnie’s house is really awesome! I wish you could come over.” I said.

“I wished curfew wasn’t a thing.” Q said.

“You should get back. Curfew is in 30 minutes.” I said.

“All right, see you Monday.” Q said.

KITTY’S POV.

“Q!” I said.

“Where were you?”

“I was out shopping.” He said.

“Couldn’t you have gotten the stuff you needed yesterday when we went shopping.”

“Yea, but I forgot something.”

“Okay..?”

ANDREA’s POV

I went to mini fridge for my skincare to do my skincare.

“Min ho wasn’t himself, weird!” I thought.

I looked on my phone and they posted me!

“I looked good!” I thought.

MIN HO’s POV

I looked on twitter and found a post about Ae-ri Song.

“She looks familiar,” I thought.

“But I can’t wrap my finger who she is.”

“But she is a beauty.”

“I hope we can meet soon.”

ANDREA’s POV

On Sunday, I went back to do a run through on the runway.

“She only got in because her cousin owns the place.” A girl said.

“Right, Binna.” The other girl said.

Binna? Hmm…

When it was Binna’s turn to walk, as she was walking she slipped a bit.

“Deserved!” I thought.

When it was my turn, I walked on the runway with a smile, but I was so nervous.

But I guess I had a confident aura, everyone started clapping.

“Nice job Ae-ri!” Ji-ae said.

“Thanks eonnie!” I said

“As a treat, we are going to get ice cream.”

“Really, thank you!

“Yea, you did a great job!”

At the ice cream shop, I saw Q, and….

KITTY AND MIN HO?

Thank God I had sunglasses and mask on, or I would have been fucked.

“Here’s your ice cream, have a nice day.” The worker said.

“Thanks, you too!” I said.

We went back home to eat.

I am so excited for the trip tomorrow.

MIN HO’s POV MASTERLIST NEXT EPISODE

TAGLIST: @chaewon-slays @cherrriesss

Copyrights © 2023 xo-lesserafim. All rights reserved. I do not own XO, Kitty , Netflix does. do not copy, translate, or repost anything without my permission.

[chrissssssmut]

Hello and welcome to my page!

Things to know:

• i mostly write fictional stories with Kpop group girl members x male reader! I love yandere stuff so expect a lot of that here hahaha. Sadly, i won't be making any boy group members.. sorry!(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

• You can request anyone! Use that imagination of yours! You can send them thru that thingo on the top of my page hehe or send me a message!

• REQUESTS ARE POSTED WHEN I HAVE TIME SO BEAR WITH ME PLS😭🙏

• If this page disturbs you, you are free to leave! This page is catered to those who enjoy my stories. :))

• Everything is FICTIONAL. Treat everything as such.

• THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!☺️♥️

MASTER LIST:

YANDERE STUFF:

Chained Hearts: Yandere Danielle, Winter, Minji, Yunjin, and Ahn Yujin x Male Reader

Yours to keep: Jang Wonyoung and Naoi Rei x Male Reader

Bounded: Yandere Karina, Hanni, Danielle, Wonyoung, Liz, Chaewon and Yunjin x Male Reader

My Huh Yunjin: Huh Yunjin x Yandere Male reader

FAMILY TIES: Yandere Bahiyyih x Male Reader

CORPORATE CAPTIVITY: Yandere Minji, Haerin, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein x Male Reader

TRAPPED IN HER WORLD: Giselle x Male Reader feat. Ryujin

STUCK WITH YOU: Yunjin & Eunchae x Idol Male Reader

BENEATH THE SMILE: Winter x Male Reader feat. Karina

NO ESCAPE: Yandere Boss Rosé x Male Reader

THE DEMON'S BELOVED: Yandere Demon Hanni x Male Reader

TIL DEATH DO US PART: Yandere Gaeul x Male Reader

SWEET ERROR: Yandere Ningning x Male Reader feat. Belle and Karina

SHUTTERED DEVOTION: Yandere Yeji, Yooyeon, Chaehyun, Minju, Yuna, Haneul & Yeseo x Male Reader

Our Manager, Ours Alone: Yandere Sumin & J x Male Reader

SISTERS KNOWS BEST: Yandere Aespa x Male Reader

CAGE BY THE CROWN: Yandere Princess Asa x Male Reader Bodyguard

NOT AS IT SEEMS: Yandere Sullyoon and Bae x Male Reader

OBEDIENCE IS DEVOTION (w/ SMUT): Yandere Liz x Male Reader

YOU ARE NOW CHATTING WITH A RANDOM STRANGER(PART 1): Yandere Wonyoung x Male Reader

PROJECT SSERAFIM: Wendy, Momo, Miyeon, Yeji, Giselle, Ruka, Natty, Minju, Liz and Yeseo x Male Reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT:

PROFESSOR, YOU'RE MINE: Ahn Yujin x Male Reader feat. Gaeul (still has Yandere)

BEHIND THE SPOTLIGHT: Sakura x Abusive Manager Male Reader feat. Le Sserafim

UNSPOKEN TENSION: Tomboy Winter x Male Reader

PURRING, PANTING, BEGGING: IVE x Male Reader

BAD BROTHER, WORST SISTERS: Yandere Ryujin, Lisa, Jo Yuri, Kazuha, Choerry, Rei & Miyeon x Male Reader (Yandere story)

OFF LIMITS: Choerry x Male Reader

BURNING DESIRE: Le Sserafim OT5 x Male Reader

Tutor Me Senpai.. (But not in studying): Femboy Wonyoung x Male Reader

Noona's Favorite: Yandere dom!Noona Karina x sub!Male Reader

RELIEVING TENSION: Liz and Rei x Male Reader

HER BIRTHDAY, HER RULES: Karina x Male Idol Y/N

APOCALYPSE'S DESIRE (Part 1): Jennie, Lisa, Rose, Jisoo, Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, Winter and Karina x Male Reader

COME OVER: Cat Girls Le Sserafim OT5 x Male Reader

LUCKY FRESHMAN: g!p Ningning x Male Reader

Who's A Good Boy?: Haseul x Male Reader

"The Voice Lesson": dom!Chaehyun x sub!Male Reader

MONSTER IDOLS:

Classroom 3-B PART 1: Vampire Ahn Yujin X Male Reader

Classroom 3-B PART 2: Vampire Ahn Yujin x Male OC

Nobody Knows: Kiss of Life ( OT4) x Male Reader

The Predator's Prey: Vampire Princess Asa x Hunter Male Reader (still has yandere)

THE SEA'S CLAIM: Yandere Mermaid Jisoo x Male Reader

THE HUNTER'S BARGAIN: Succubus!Mina x Succubus!Momo x Succubus!Sana x Demon Hunter Male Reader

WE WERE NEVER DONE: Gumiho!Yeji x Exorcist!Male Reader

FLUFF STUFF:

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART: Krystal Jung X Nerd Male Reader

UNSPOKEN CHOREOGRAPHY: Dohee x Male Reader

ANGST STORIES:

Almost, Always: Han So-hee x Male Reader

[natasha-in-space]

They are watching The Jalapeno Topping Was Pretty Spicy (Chaewon is not impressed)

[hyerismuse]

You make it look so easy ✧ hmlycp!oc ✧ Lee Hyeri

✧ pairing: lee hyeri x hmlycp!oc

✧ synopsis: when sohyun joined a reality show with six other female celebrities, she had expected friendly competition and hilarious antics. However, she had not expected a connection to form between her and fellow castmate, lee hyeri. 3.6k words.

✧ featuring: lee hyeri, cho miyeon, lee jung, choi yena, kim chaewon, patricia

✧ tags: hyemileeyechaepa, slow burn, pining, banter, mutual attraction, hyeri x hmlycp!oc

"Hyeri is gravity, pulling Sohyun into the center of things, but she does it lightly, without force. Sohyun never realizes she’s following until she’s already in motion."

✧ AN: not a real portrayal of people mentioned. for entertainment purposes only.

The first day of filming begins before the cameras are even rolling. The air is crisp in the early morning, the kind that stirs drowsiness into wakefulness, and Sohyun stands at the entrance of the room where she will first meet her castmates, eyeing the production crew setting up inside.

Someone is already there, sitting at the long wooden table with a paper cup of coffee cradled between both hands. Even without looking, Sohyun would have known who it was. The air hums with a restless kind of energy, a presence too big for the quiet morning.

Hyeri.

Sohyun has seen her before, of course. She’s on every screen, in snippets of variety shows, always in motion, always talking, a natural entertainer. And now, here she is, bright-eyed and grinning even at this ungodly hour, as if she’d simply woken up in the mood to perform.

The moment Hyeri notices her, she straightens, her grin stretching wider. “Oh, it’s you,” she says with delighted recognition, pointing as if catching Sohyun in a mischievous act. “I was wondering who’d get here first. Of course, it’s the other oldie.”

Sohyun exhales, slow and measured, more amused than not. “I’m one year younger than you.”

“Exactly!” Hyeri exclaims, as if that proves her point. “Which means we have to stick together. The kids will be here soon.”

She gestures toward the other empty seats like a queen preparing for her court’s arrival. Sohyun follows her gaze. They are, indeed, the first ones here. The long table is bare, save for Hyeri’s coffee and a few scattered papers. The walls still echo faintly with the sounds of crew members adjusting cameras, cables winding across the floor like veins.

“You’re surprisingly early,” Sohyun says, making her way inside.

Hyeri leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I couldn’t sleep. Too excited. You?”

“Too responsible.”

Hyeri laughs, the kind that crinkles her eyes and softens the morning air. “You’re already acting like the house mom.”

Sohyun raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. A staff member signals to help her with her mic, and as she stands up, she catches Hyeri watching her, head tilted in consideration.

“What?” Sohyun asks.

“Nothing,” Hyeri replies, but the grin lingers, like she’s already figured something out.

Sohyun doesn’t know it yet, but this will become a pattern. Hyeri looking at her like she knows something Sohyun doesn’t. Hyeri talking to her like they’ve already agreed to be on the same side. And maybe, without realizing, they have.

The house is bare. Not in the minimalist, carefully curated way, but in the we-have-nothing way. The walls are plain, the rooms echo. There are no beds, no food, not even a single chair. The six of them—Sohyun, Hyeri, Miyeon, Lee Jung, Chaewon, and Patricia (missing Yena on the first day)—stand in the middle of the largest room, processing the reality of their situation.

“Healing show, they said,” Miyeon says gravely.

Patricia places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get through this. Stay strong.”

They all stand frozen as a voice crackles through the intercom, smooth yet merciless. “Welcome. Your house is currently unfurnished. You will play games to earn ‘cash points’ to buy furniture, food, and other necessities.”

There’s a pause. Six brains working through the implications.

Then, Hyeri claps her hands together, the sound bright against the cavernous emptiness. “This is going to be fun.”

Sohyun glances at her, unimpressed. “I fear I will be less than helpful.”

Hyeri gasps, scandalized. “Sohyun. Are you saying you’re bad at games?”

“I’m saying I conserve my energy.”

“Ah,” Hyeri nods, as if she has unlocked some grand revelation. “A lazy genius.”

Sohyun shrugs. “If the shoe fits.”

“I knew it,” Hyeri says, as if she’s won a bet. “You have that look about you.”

“What look?”

Hyeri gestures vaguely. “The effortless ‘I’ll do the bare minimum and still come out on top’ look.”

Lee Jung, who has been listening with arms crossed, smirks. “That’s just Sohyun’s face.”

Sohyun accepts this assessment with grace.

The games start simple: guess the song from a one-second snippet, flip the bottle upright, score a 97 or higher in karaoke. The kind of games designed to test either luck or a very specific skill set for Korean entertainment. Hyeri is enthusiastic about everything, leaping into challenges with reckless abandon. Meanwhile, Sohyun plays with precision, opting for the easiest, most efficient way to win.

The first game is a song challenge. The snippet plays—a single second of an instrumental intro.

Lee Jung gasps. “I know this!”

Chaewon mumbles from behind, “No, you don’t.”

Lee Jung looks personally betrayed.

“Wait, wait, let me think—” Patricia hums, snapping her fingers. “Ah! It’s IU’s—”

Miyeon cuts in, scandalised. “No, it’s not!”

Chaos. Hyeri is laughing so hard she has to brace herself against Sohyun’s shoulder. Sohyun is silently trying to fight back laughter as she watches them, and doesn’t move.

As the first day winds down, the members attempt to cook their first meal. The kitchen, bare just hours ago, now hums with activity—knives against cutting boards, water bubbling in a pot, the occasional clatter of a misplaced utensil. Despite the initial enthusiasm, it quickly becomes clear that, out of the six of them, only one truly knows what she’s doing.

Hyeri moves with practiced ease, sleeves rolled up, eyes focused as she tosses something into a pan with an effortless flick of her wrist. The others are less helpful. Lee Jung and Chaewon stand side by side, peering dubiously at a bag of uncooked rice. Patricia is making an elaborate show of inspecting various seasonings, despite not actually contributing to the cooking process. Miyeon seems content with moral support, hovering near the stove without getting in the way.

Sohyun, despite her proclaimed laziness, finds herself gravitating towards Hyeri. She picks up a knife and leans casually against the counter. "You can cook?"

Hyeri glances at her, amused. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

Sohyun gestures vaguely at the others, where Lee Jung has just asked if rice and water should be measured ‘with vibes.’ "You don’t really fit the… atmosphere."

Hyeri laughs, pausing only to expertly stir something sizzling in the pan. "I’ve been living alone for a long time," she says, a touch of nostalgia slipping into her voice. "You learn, or you suffer."

Sohyun considers this, then shrugs. "I prefer takeout."

Hyeri grins, bumping her shoulder lightly against Sohyun’s. "Figures. Lazy genius and all."

Sohyun doesn’t argue. Instead, she notices that Hyeri’s dish needs more onions. Silently, she starts chopping, slow and methodical. She’s never been particularly skilled in the kitchen, but she likes the rhythm of it, the quiet act of helping without making a big deal of it. Beside her, Hyeri hums under her breath, focused but lighthearted, and Sohyun thinks—for the first time since arriving—that maybe this show won’t be so bad after all.

The first night, they all sleep in the same room. Because, of course, they were only able to buy one bed. The floor is layered with their luggage, hastily claimed pillows, and the occasional hoodie repurposed as a cushion. Despite the lack of comfort, there’s an undeniable sense of camaraderie in the air, a quiet energy buzzing just beneath the surface.

Sohyun ends up next to Hyeri, though she isn’t sure how. Maybe it’s chance, or maybe it’s Hyeri’s natural magnetism, the way she orbits into people's spaces with such ease that it feels inevitable. The room is dark, save for the faint glow of a forgotten phone screen, and the hushed murmurs of the others slowly fade into steady breathing.

“You comfortable?” Hyeri’s voice is quiet, curling through the silence like a whisper of mischief. Her breath hits right near Sohyun’s shoulder.

Sohyun shifts slightly, feeling the unfamiliarity of the floor beneath her. “Sure.”

A pause. Then, just as Sohyun is about to drift off, Hyeri mutters, “I think this is going to be really fun.”

Sohyun doesn’t answer, but in the stillness, she thinks, maybe, Hyeri is right.

The cameras don’t always catch the way Hyeri’s eyes linger. They are attuned to grand gestures, to the broad strokes of storytelling, victories and defeats, laughter that makes a room ring. But in the in-between moments, in the quiet pockets of time, Sohyun starts to notice: Hyeri watches her.

She is loud, as expected, a crackling presence that makes everything feel alive, but Sohyun learns that Hyeri has a different kind of quiet. It’s in the way she places a slice of meat onto Sohyun’s plate before serving herself, or how she’s the first to laugh for Sohyun. Not just when Sohyun says something deliberately funny, but even when she mutters something under her breath, not meant for an audience.

They have their own kind of rhythm. At some point, it becomes a running joke that the two of them are always in the kitchen, leaning against counters, moving around each other without needing to say much.

One afternoon, as Sohyun peels an orange, Hyeri slides a plate of neatly arranged side dishes in front of her. “You’re just going to eat fruit?”

Sohyun eyes the plate. “I was considering it.”

Hyeri tuts, plucking a piece of kimchi and holding it out with chopsticks. “Try this.”

Sohyun hesitates but leans forward, taking the bite. She chews thoughtfully. “Not bad.”

Hyeri smirks. “High praise, coming from you.”

Before Sohyun can reply, Miyeon walks in and pauses, narrowing her eyes at the two of them. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You guys are always doing this.”

Hyeri leans against the counter, feigning innocence. “And?”

Miyeon points dramatically. “It’s weird. You move like—like some kind of synchronized unit. You’re the parents.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to adopt any of you,” Sohyun deadpans, popping the fruit into her mouth.

Hyeri, beside her, just grins. “Too late. We’re legally bound now.” She presses her shoulder lightly against Sohyun’s, casual but lingering.

Sohyun hums, unimpressed. “Must’ve missed the paperwork.” She hands a piece of orange to Hyeri, silently.

“I forged your signature,” Hyeri says, voice light and teasing, and it’s ridiculous enough that Sohyun lets out a small, reluctant laugh.

“Wow. Fraud. Arrest her,” Sohyun says dryly, nodding at Miyeon, who gasps dramatically.

“Unnie, you’d turn on your own spouse?” Miyeon asks, horrified.

Hyeri gasps, playing along. “That’s right! This is betrayal of the highest degree.”

Sohyun rolls her eyes, reaching for another piece of fruit. “I refuse to acknowledge this marriage.”

Hyeri leans in, lowering her voice just enough for only Sohyun to hear. “Doesn’t mean it’s not real, Sohyunnie.”

The moment lingers, something light but unspoken sitting between them. Sohyun refuses to have a response for that, refuses to acknowledge the blush creeping up her neck from the casual and flirty back and forth. Instead, she just flicks her fingers lightly on Hyeri’s forehead. Hyeri lets out a loud, indignant squawk.

“Oh, you’re done for now,” Hyeri declares, lunging.

Sohyun ducks out of the way before she can be tackled, escaping to the safety of the living space. The others barely glance up, used to the chaos.

Sohyun finds that her dynamic with Hyeri is unlike her interactions with the others. Chaewon, another introvert, is easy to be around. She finds they share a natural ebb and flow of conversation that doesn’t demand much effort. Lee Jung is someone she can analyze things with, their conversations sometimes turning into quiet dissections of game strategies or the best way to approach challenges.

There’s something infuriating about Hyeri’s attention. It’s relentless, like she’s made it her personal mission to pull Sohyun into the center of things, to coax out reactions that Sohyun isn’t always willing to give. And worse, she makes it look effortless.

“Come on Sohyunnie, you can’t just sit there all night,” Hyeri says one evening, nudging Sohyun’s knee with her own. She’s sitting in the corner of the couch, the others chatting amongst themselves. “You have to contribute something to the chaos.”

“I am contributing,” Sohyun says, gesturing vaguely. “I’m observing.”

Hyeri clicks her tongue. “Weak excuse. We both know you’re funnier than you let on.”

Sohyun raises a brow. “Oh? A personal analysis?”

Hyeri grins. “I’m a Sohyunnie expert.”

“Debatable.”

“Oh? Then let’s test it.” Hyeri shifts, facing her fully now. “I bet I can predict your next move.”

Sohyun huffs a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’m that predictable.”

She looks around to the others. “You’re about to pretend you’re not invested in this conversation, but you’re already waiting to hear what I say.”

Sohyun pauses. Squints at her. “…Lucky guess.”

Hyeri beams. “I know you.”

Somewhere across the fire, Miyeon and Yena are watching them with barely concealed amusement.

“They are so weird,” Yena whispers.

Miyeon nods sagely. “I give it three more weeks before they realize.”

“Realize what?” Sohyun asks, perfectly monotone.

Miyeon just grins. “Nothing, unnie. You’ll see.”

Hyeri is still looking at her, and Sohyun, against all odds, finds herself looking back.

It’s small, at first. Sohyun finds herself talking more during meals, interjecting in conversations instead of just observing from the sidelines. She rolls her eyes more but with less actual resistance when Hyeri tugs her into whatever chaos is brewing that day.

During one of the games, Hyeri dramatically throws herself onto the floor in frustration, limbs sprawled like a child mid-tantrum. Sohyun, against her better judgment, crouches down beside her.

“Are you done?” she asks, raising a brow.

“I’m in mourning,” Hyeri sighs, opening a single eye.

Sohyun shakes her head, pretending to check her watch. “Well, you have about ten seconds before we have to move on.”

Hyeri gasps, lifting her head. “Not even a minute? So cruel.”

“Tragic,” Sohyun agrees, offering a hand. Hyeri takes it without hesitation.

It happens again and again. Hyeri is gravity, pulling Sohyun into the center of things, but she does it lightly, without force. Sohyun never realizes she’s following until she’s already in motion.

One evening, after a long day of shooting, the cast lingers outside, enjoying the cool air. The conversation drifts lazily between them, laughter bubbling up in pockets, until Hyeri turns to Sohyun with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Let’s play a game,” she announces.

“No,” Sohyun replies immediately, but Hyeri is already pressing on.

“Just one round. Rock-paper-scissors.”

Sohyun sighs. “For what?”

Hyeri grins. “Loser has to go make snacks for everyone.”

“That sounds like a punishment for me either way.”

“But it’ll be fun,” Hyeri insists, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea. The others are already watching, entertained by the exchange.

Sohyun exhales through her nose, feigning great reluctance. “Fine. One round.”

They throw their hands at the same time. Hyeri throws paper, Sohyun throws scissors.

“Aha!” Sohyun declares, triumphant. She throws fists into the air in an uncharacteristic burst of energy. Hyeri’s rubbing off on her. “Looks like you’re getting the snacks.”

Hyeri gapes at her hand like it personally betrayed her. “Nooo,” she groans, dragging out the syllable and melting onto the floor. Suddenly, she springs back up with her fist held on an open palm. Her eyes sparkling, she demands, “Rematch.”

“No rematches,” Sohyun says smugly. “I believe in fair play.”

Miyeon claps delightedly. “Rules are rules, unnie.”

With great dramatic flair, Hyeri trudges off toward the kitchen, bemoaning her fate, while the others cheer behind her. Sohyun leans back, satisfied, watching as Hyeri’s exaggerated misery turns into a giggle before she crouches in front of the fridge.

She has no doubt that Hyeri will come back with more snacks than necessary, humming as she hands them out, probably pretending she won after all.

At night, when the cameras are less intrusive, their conversations slow down and sink into something quieter.

“You don’t like to waste energy, do you?” Hyeri asks one evening, after a long day of filming. They’re sitting on the porch, the air cool against their skin. It’s cold out there, but they’ve bundled up and lean into each other closely.

Sohyun considers. “Why use more than necessary?”

Hyeri hums, nodding. “I like that about you.”

Sohyun glances at her, surprised. Hyeri’s nose is all red from the cold. “Yeah?”

Hyeri tilts her head. “Yeah. But I also like when you use a little more.”

It takes Sohyun a second to realize what she means. The way she’s started joining in more, the way she meets Hyeri’s teasing with her own brand of dry amusement. It’s not something she’s done consciously.

“…It’s not that bad, I guess,” Sohyun admits, looking out at the darkened trees.

Hyeri nudges her knee. “That’s practically a love confession coming from you.”

Sohyun scoffs, shaking her head. But she doesn’t deny it. She hopes she can also blame her red cheeks on the weather.

And Hyeri, in the quiet way that she does, smiles like she heard it anyway.

It doesn’t take long for the others to notice.

“Wow, Sohyun really lets you get away with anything,” Patricia comments one afternoon, watching as Hyeri nudges the last bite of her rice onto Sohyun’s plate. Sohyun eats it without a word, barely glancing up from where she’s flicking through the week’s schedule on her phone.

“She acts like she doesn’t like it,” Miyeon adds, leaning in conspiratorially, “but she does.”

Sohyun levels them both with a flat stare. “Do I look like someone who’s easily swayed?”

“Yes,” Yena chirps from the couch, not even looking up from her phone.

Hyeri, who has been quietly observing this exchange with an almost suspicious amount of amusement, finally chimes in. “They’re just jealous because you’d never let them feed you.”

Sohyun pauses, chopsticks hovering mid-air. “You don’t feed me.”

Hyeri hums. “Not yet.”

The table erupts into laughter, and Sohyun, despite herself, despite all the warnings she should probably be giving to the part of her brain that registers danger, feels the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

The days stretched into weeks, and without realizing it, Sohyun and Hyeri had settled into an unspoken rhythm. Sohyun never needed to ask for the water bottle during meals because Hyeri passed it to her before she even reached for it. Hyeri never had to adjust her mic properly because Sohyun instinctively did it for her. They navigated their shared space with a quiet understanding, a series of tiny, unspoken gestures that the others began to notice.

"Unnie, your mic—" Miyeon started, only to blink in surprise as Sohyun was already fixing it.

"Oh? When did you become unnie’s manager?" Yena teased, grinning.

Hyeri, always ready for a bit, dramatically gasped, turned around, and squished Sohyun’s cheeks between her hands. "Sohyunnie! Are you finally accepting my love?"

Sohyun rolled her eyes. “Turn around again. Your mic still isn’t fixed.”

Hyeri giggled and turned around obediently, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Once she was done, Sohyun flicked her on her back. She didn’t step away when Hyeri nudged her shoulder against hers. Their proximity had become effortless. They leaned into each other in the downtime between games, shoulders brushing when they stood side by side in the kitchen, Hyeri’s head tipping onto Sohyun’s shoulder when she finally got too tired to keep up with the others’ energy.

One evening, Hyeri dozed off on the couch, an arm thrown over her face, her hoodie slipping off her shoulder. The room was filled with the comfortable noise of the other members playing a game in the background. Sohyun, without thinking, reached for a blanket and draped it over Hyeri carefully. She hesitated for a second before tucking it in just slightly around her.

Lee Jung, who had been watching, smirked. "Oh? So thoughtful."

Sohyun shrugged, grabbing her phone like nothing had happened. "She’d do it for any of us."

"Mm-hmm." Lee Jung’s knowing tone did nothing to help the warmth creeping up Sohyun’s neck.

The others had started to tease them openly now. The parent jokes continued, but there were also comments about the way they interacted differently. Yena pointed out how Hyeri always seemed to laugh the hardest at Sohyun’s deadpan jokes, even when the others barely registered them. Chaewon quipped that Sohyun only let Hyeri get away with certain things that would have earned anyone else a blank stare. It wasn’t wrong.

As the end of the show loomed closer, there were more noticeable moments—fingers grazing when passing plates, inside jokes that no one else understood, Hyeri absently fixing Sohyun’s hoodie when it slipped off her shoulder. The cameras caught everything, of course, and so did the fans.

The compilations started appearing before the final episodes even aired. Edits of their moments set to music, slowed-down footage of Hyeri laughing just a little softer when it was Sohyun speaking. Comments dissecting every glance, every lingering touch.

But for them, it was simpler than that. It was in the way Hyeri would squeeze Sohyun’s wrist lightly when she passed by, the way Sohyun always saved a seat next to her without needing to say a word. It was knowing they’d carry this bond beyond the show.

On their last night, long after the cameras had powered down for the day, they sat outside in the quiet, wrapped in hoodies against the evening chill.

"It doesn’t feel real that it’s ending," Hyeri murmured, her voice softer than usual.

Sohyun hummed, watching the faint flicker of light in the distance. "Mm. Time went by fast."

Hyeri turned to look at her, eyes searching. "Let’s not just let this be a show thing."

Sohyun turned her head slightly. The weight of Hyeri’s gaze was steady, warm in a way that made something in her chest feel light and heavy at the same time.

"We won’t," she said simply.

Hyeri grinned, reaching out to curl Sohyun’s hair behind her ear, caring for her like she always did, like she always would. "Good."