#DAHYUN SMUT

[kooyabooya]

JUNO

minju & dahyun x m reader

17k words

“No. No way. No freaking way.” 

Dahyun nestles her chin into the dip of your collarbone, her smirk a telltale sign when your eyes flicker from her face to the rest of the ballroom; too early to tell if she’s drunk or probably in heat, it’s one of the two, you know that for sure. Though, her gaze follows yours at the commotion, noticing you can’t stop staring at something - or someone. 

“You don’t need me to convince you,” she’s saying, nose grazing the side of your throat and jaw, in tandem with a lip bite. “She’s really fucking horny.” 

–

Look, if there’s anything you’ve learned about Kim Dahyun: is the fact that she doesn’t spill the whole tale straight away. 

Contrary to popular belief - as her plus one - you might add, her style of being coy and mysterious, always backfires in the end eventually. Yet here you are again: trailing behind or at her side, playing along in the usual antics she puts up to ease the boring periods of these stupid events you’ve been forced to be dragged along. 

“Suits and ties, and flashy smiles. That's all they are.” She had said to you hours before, sitting on your desk with her veneers up on high, ankles crossed with heels, wearing the tightest dress imaginable - the kind of dress where it shows just enough skin to get people’s heads turning. 

A shame that white was her ideal color too, since you and her both know very well how good she looks in it. 

(Your dress shirt in the morning or in a different dress at night, there’s no difference between them.) 

Speaking of which: 

“It’s a splitting image,” you’re telling Dahyun, head at an angle, squinting in the dimly lit room. “I swear she was just in a white dress the other day. When the hell did she get the lapis lazuli piece?” 

“Beats me,” she replies, tugging your arm closer to her, finger directing your gaze as the second crown jewel of the night takes center stage. “I know you’re not denying it, but she’s pretty too.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

Smug smiled, Dahyun brings it upon herself to swoop the drink in your hand, down the leftover alcohol while the events at the opposite end of the room takes up everyone's attention. You’re part of the viewing crowd too, watching in wonder and from afar while the underlying ambiance of people conversing amidst the host greeting with the proper niceties like any other person would have when opening up the occasion. The lights dimming above with the scattered camera flashes the only sight visible to your eyes - aside from the recipient of tonight’s many awards.

“I still don’t know how you do it,” you remark, chuckling. “These outings - gala’s even. I mean- it hasn’t even been that long after you got the confirmation for the role, not to mention the invite-” 

“To be honest, I don’t really know either.” Dahyun agrees, placing the empty glass to the passing server with an empty plate in hand, nodding in approval of thanks to make their job easier. Happily going along their way to assess the next area of need. Her eyes mirror yours - paying attention, spectating along with you until the undivided focus diverts to something else worth the time. “If anything, it’s good that you're with me. That way I can’t have all the fun myself.” 

“Gotta spend my nights somehow.” You let your head fall sideways, she meets in the middle. “Rather be here than have your take of ‘rotting away alone at home’.” 

“Nonsense,” chides Dahyun, stomaching a giggle down. “Wasted time with me is time well spent.” 

“That I can concur,” you remark. “Though, it’s worth mentioning who convinced who earlier, remember?” 

“You wanna expand on that a little more?” 

“I can. It involves some hands-on work, actually.” 

“Right.” 

Everything from the events earlier is all panned out in your minds. Something about bending her over the desk and ignoring the call from her manager which almost resulted in being late - she’s not the kind to be on thin ice; as for you, this isn’t the first time this happened, and the warnings have only increased since then. 

(A side of you few people know; exclusively for Dahyun to see. Bless the concealer for working its magic; most of the people won’t even be aware of the band-aid stuck onto her thigh.)

“A mouth can do so much more wonders than we expect.” Dahyun says cheerfully, concluding. Finger to her temple then to the lower rim of her lush lips. 

Can’t deny her overbearing confidence at times. 

“Really,” you say. “You’d reckon?” 

“What the hell do you want me to ask for? A demonstration?” She herself knows fewer words are spoken between her and the other person. “Though, I technically don’t have to say anything to you at all since you can just tell from-” 

You raise your eyebrow; solidifying the point. Nodding. 

The crowd then erupts in a wave of thunderous applause, diverting both of your attention away from each other, seeing the award’s recipient bow before the audience before the event’s emcee steps on, keeping the proceedings flowing smoothly as possible. Most of the sounds are overstimulating as it is, seeing the groups of tables surrounded by people, not to mention the bar station working overtime. The flashing lights. Clamoring of paparazzi wanting the stars to look in their direction. Yeah. It’s a lot. You’ve had the rundown multiple times way more than you could count. 

So you take the sight in. The usual work perk: better to be here than to sit behind a desk working into the late hours of the night, get an adequate amount of alcohol in your system to use the excuse of not being able to come in the next day, or even have the additional benefits traveling places you’d ever dream of going as a kid. 

(In short saying: you liked your job, at least looking from the surface level. You don’t love or hate the gig, but you’d be willing to do what’s needed or asked without a reason or for something in return:

“Stay with me on the set?” 

No problem. 

“Run to the cafe down the corner and get drinks for us?” 

Sure. 

“I’ll give you a thank you note for your hard work. With a little extra prize at the end of it.” 

No need to say ‘you’re welcome’ for that one.

You don’t even think twice about the things at all. Talk about being a sucker for love, leaving out the admission.)

It’s in the acts of service, much contrasted to doing it with a romantical intent. There might be a catch hidden deep within your heart and in those almond pools of hers; you and her had the discussion before, reapproaching it too many times for it to be pinned as a label. She says it’s a lot on her plate as it is - you’re harboring the feelings a bit too selfishly. 

(Yearning and pining, everyone. The few answers to fill for those unanswered questions.) 

And, it’s worth mentioning that for these brief periods of introspection, it doesn’t take much for you to snap out of the usual trance right away. Dahyun tugs the fabric of your coat for good measure, doubled down with a shoulder bump to put the vertigo in disarray, soon she has your attention again. 

“What are you thinking about this time?” She asks. 

That’s one prompt out of the many you find weaseling your way out easily. 

“Well,” you start, pressing the buttoned-up collar up against your neck - negating the discomfort, soak some of the sweat into the threads, have the dry cleaners deal with the rest. “For one: it’s the drink they were passing around just now. And two: definitely the lack of air conditioning in this corner of the room-” 

“So sensitive.” Dahyun laments, offering her small palm to your middle. “That shirt’s choking you as it is.” 

“Ouch.” You sarcastically say. “Always clocking me for no reason. Unprovoked, I might add.” 

“Lightening the load,” replies Dahyun, scrunching the bridge of her nose. Your coat suddenly no longer has a weight on your shoulders, finding its new place on smaller collarbones. Sure, the broad appearance depresses at the lapels, her fingertips are barely peeking out at the cuffs. Bonus points go to you for putting a considerate offer.  

The top button of your shirt gets undone, freeing your throat. “What’s the plan now, miss?” 

Dahyun swivels around, fiddles with the middle button of the coat until it’s in. “After party not far from here. I also think my publicist told me they have a small keynote thing I have to speak about.” 

“Since when has anything ever kept you out of the spotlight?” 

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself if you’re my publicist or something?” 

It takes two. The playing field’s still leveled. 

But you happily oblige: “Lead the way, ma’am.” 

Dahyun tilts her chin up, the corner of her mouth slightly ticked. Victorious. Some of the people around you two start to make a pathway to the exit. A little homage to Moses parting the sea for his people. 

You’re already imagining the same scenario happening in traffic outside later, and you’re definitely telling Dahyun to keep her feet off the dashboard.

–

Here’s the thing. A clause in the signed contract, written and hidden deep between the lines. 

You realize there’s no proper explanation to the level of engagement - exposure even - in these outings you’ve thrown yourself into. If the briefings prior are to be considered the shallow part of the pool, then the red carpets are without a doubt the deep end, it’s always going to be difficult to determine which one is easier to get used to. 

Yet, you find yourself in the same spot as earlier. Except you’re lacking the usual occupant to your side back at the bar. 

–

“I would like to greet everyone a good evening and thank you to the hosts for putting together-” says Dahyun, the collecting wave of applause scattering in pockets of the audience, “-such a wonderful gathering here tonight.” She then continues, now the center of attention before the occupying room, no short of most likely a hundred guests in the space if not more. The mic stand was casually adjusted by one of the stage workers, which made the appearance look more comical. Though, she bears no mind because she’s used to it on the regular. 

Besides, not much time has passed once you two arrived at the second venue. Maybe a little shy of thirty minutes or something to that degree. You stopped looking at the watch on your wrist as it is - the first sign of how detached you’re slowly starting to become. 

Worth noting the amount of alcohol in your system, leading to a single inevitable conclusion: one drink isn’t enough. 

Luckily, the concoctions being created behind you have already been making the rounds to the guests; another cup manages to find its way to your hand again; this time with a little more kick compared to the main event’s refreshments, but the urge to grab another is a tempting thought. 

There’s also the promising appeal of the balcony to your right - an opportunity to step outside, get some fresh air; you’ve got the dwindling pack of cigarettes in your right pocket, thumb reflexively twitching to ignite the lighter, the second sign of relapse waiting to happen. You don’t know how long you’ll be here, and you’re not the kind of person to push your hours for a faster paycheck. 

Normally, on outings like these - they’re intended to celebrate, commemorate, congratulate, connect - then there’s the secondary layers of networking, creating connections for future projects, attached with the occasional icebreaker through the food and drinks where people are there to have a great time, socialize, share tales of what doesn’t get shown on cameras or what’s kept from being said on the record - the inner workings gradually forming once everyone’s settled in with the job done for the night. 

While it may be a rinse and repeat on a different day, this face in particular does anything but that: 

“Suppose you’re laying low for another hard day’s work?” She asks you, slotting herself into the spot where Dahyun would always be when she’s fulfilled her duties as an attending individual. 

Speaking of Dahyun, she’s still on that stage with another co-star joining her, exchanging niceties and getting showered with compliments she plays off nonchalantly. Again, you told her to take as long as she liked, convincing yourself while walking away she’ll eventually find the way back once her minutes are up on the schedule. Until then, the oddly familiar face next to you is worth passing the seconds for now. 

The girl waves a waiter nearby, nods in acknowledgement as the rim of the glass meets her fingertips, swirls it around while pursing her lips, looks in your direction and offers a toast- 

You’re blinking as the action is mirrored. Ah, okay. She has your full attention alright. 

You begin to see why there was a sudden influx of flashes at the photo-op earlier. This girl was amazing. The headlights shining in the dark with you as the innocent deer caught in the middle. 

A drink like the one in your hand has never been swallowed faster than ever in your life. 

“Ugh,” she utters, the small bump in her throat returning to its normal position, the tip of her tongue peeking out from her lips, savoring the taste. “Gotta say, this is way much better than what they were handing out in the other place.” 

Turns out you’re not the only one who thought the drinks were a little fuzzy in terms of taste. So your face motions an expression of agreement and pulls a light chuckle out the mouth. 

“No kidding,” you reply, examining the glass more closely, set it down on the bar, don’t ask for a second one - there’s no point, every ounce of coherence is needed to keep this conversation going, inhaling sharply for composure. “These have a little more kick,” you add on. Not much to expand as it is, but you’re getting somewhere. 

“Right? It’s just enough to savor, but also not too much for you to end up in the bathroom later.” She pulls her head back, revealing the dips in her shoulders. Her necklace is an astonishing piece to notice, clearly worth in the five-digits. The shade of her dress is also another part of the appearance you’re doing multiple checks in. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but, some of the guys here are already wasted.” 

Not quite blue, not quite a dark color either. You’re noticing something else here anyway. 

“Hasn’t even been that long.” You’re playing it safe, observant. “The waiters are pretty much vultures in this setting; circling around the crowd until one of them drops to the floor out of exhaustion,” you tell her, checking your surrounding for anything out of the ordinary, the mix of tailored suits and dresses, elegance flooding the floor - filling up every pocket of space where it can. Some people are glancing over and immediately turning the other way, as if you had stolen a piece at the art museum. In a figurative sense, she’s drenched in blue, a siren in human form and she knows what the others are thinking around her. 

“Attention always follows when you least expect it.” 

“Isn’t that the epitome of this industry?” You lift your hand up towards the crowd of people, and higher up to point out the ambience. “Safe to also add there’s a lucky few that get the royal treatment and fawned over because of looks and status.” 

“For all we know that could be you up there,” the woman drawls, eyes rolling and shaking her head. You can tell right off the bat she’s in denial, laid-back and totally doesn’t give a fuck; the kind of person you take pride in confiding in. “In the end, who’s really winning? The idiots who didn’t bet on their potential or the fools who were dumb enough to follow a stupid dream?” The girl runs her hand down her face. “I can tell which side you’re on.” 

“I’ve been around long enough to know where the line’s drawn,” you scoff. “There’s pride in that choice for me.” 

“It’s their job to use me,” she tells you. There might be a double meaning to it if you think long enough. “Just like it’s my job to be of use.” 

“I’ll leave the interpretation for another time,” you nod, swirling the drink like you’ve got nothing else to do. 

Her gaze doesn’t falter when you turn to put your elbows on the bar. “Well kudos to you, I guess.” 

Your shoulders move again, facing towards her, elbow still on the edge of the bar. The rest of the room begins to fade out in your ears. “I don’t need an introduction, by the way. Since I already know who you are.” 

“That so?” 

“Minju.” You answer. “Kim Minju, to be exact,” you confidently say. A smirk tugged once the casual banter’s finally broken in. “Impressed much?” 

Minju gently applauds at the meaningless achievement, smiling and giggling in a gentle tone. “Congrats. I’m assuming you totally didn’t read my name in the headlines let alone a file at your workplace?” 

“There’s much more to it than your name being on the guest list.” 

She blinks. The grin on her face spreads wider. 

A handshake would be a nice touch to the introductions, but you’re past that point, unknowingly pushing to a higher stride. 

“Alright then,” says Minju, threading her brows, teeth nipping the inside of her lower lip. “What else do you know about me? Or have you heard?” 

“Loved your performance in that lawyer series,” you compliment. “Care to expand on what made you want that role in the first place? And is it true you learned sign language for the upcoming movie you’re starring in?” 

This could be drawn up to be a fanboy image, but the interest is in the working passion. You don’t know whether or not the landing is sticking, but that’s just the natural flow of things. Minju herself has shuffled closer to lessen the proximity. You’re giving less care to the logistical side of the job, settling in letting loose since there aren't any plans for you after tonight. You haven’t had much to drink as it is plus this was a good way to keep the schedule moving. 

“My my, so many questions for me.” Minju is a bit appalled at the sudden bombardment in the exposition and commentary you’re spilling. “Are you sure you’re working for the right agency? When were you so interested in making an impression for someone who’s clearly out of your league?” 

She’s noticing the effort, that’s for sure. It isn’t like you to act this way, especially if it’s someone that’s not in the typical clientele you’re used to working with. Though, giving the informative part is easy, no doubt. If anything, this is taking a bite out of what she’s set out on the table; sooner or later, it’s going to take a lot more for her to buy into what you’re selling - especially when you don’t have all your cards laid out in front of you. 

Minju watches you look left to the stage, and that was all she needed to know. 

–

There’s not much to catch up on after. Consider this the transitional sequence - capped off with the polite waves and exit left once the minutes are up on stage. Everything resumes to normal: people exchanging laughs, getting plastered, acting like you’re aware of what’s happening here half the time. Dahyun spots you at your most preferred place and- 

“Nice to see you two got acquainted while I was away doing my ‘obligatory’ duties,” she remarks - her way of weaseling into the conversation with a hand to your arm and chest, presenting you like some prized possession - a one of one. “I hope you’ve been keeping him occupied?” 

“For the most part.” Minju’s face beams the same expression you have and your brows give off a tale of: yeah, that’s usually her thing around here. Though the mood’s already been set even before Dahyun managed to find her way back, she’s also capable enough to slot herself in effortlessly. “He’s a real charmer, this one.” 

“Really?” Dahyun asks. 

You scoff. “Not a chance.” 

“Oh c’mon,” Minju says, and her head twists the opposite direction - noticing the sudden commotion somewhere off in the endless crowd. The three of you assume it’s a good sign - due to the cheers of approval with one of the awards is up in the air. “Never really thought you’d be one to get a little shy in showing their piece.” 

“Piece?” You look at Dahyun, slightly pressed. 

She shoos off the question in ignorance. “Minju doesn’t mean that.” Looks at Minju with a refined demeanor. “She, on the other hand, isn’t new to this kind of thing.”

Minju flashes a brow and that all glittering grin. “He must not be as familiar to me as you say.” 

“And you’re underestimating my potential,” you drawl. “Have we met properly?” 

“Not yet,” Minju responds, and Dahyun glances at the both of you - like a mastermind deep in the shadows, plotting moves on the chess table. “You’re the first person Dahyun’s brought along to and from events, though it looks like she’s managed to keep you around for a while.” 

“Out of how many?” You add. Minju’s chin tilts an angle and Dahyun squints her eyes out of suspicion. It’s interesting enough how the two share the same mannerisms when around friends; the way their dresses are molded to their small waists - a nice curve in the swelled hips, enough for an average guy to do a double take every time they walk past them. 

Dahyun clears her throat then blinks. “Let’s just say you’ve lucked out getting assigned to me for the long-term.” Minju brushes up your left side like she’s someone you’ve known for a while, despite only a few minutes. “May I remind you’re still on the clock?” 

“Is he actually,” an intrigued Minju butts in. 

“The phrase is a practical technicality, but yes.” You shrug. 

“Does this remind you the other time where both of our managers got into a pissing match cause we fucked around with the livestream chat.” Dahyun sticks the peak of her tongue out - another eyebrow raiser. An instance predating your time. The topics switch to the next seamlessly: 

“Oh and the one thing where we-” 

“-or when your bikini pics got leaked-” 

“When you got cozy with your male lead a while back-” 

“-the whole accident on set with one of the staff-” 

“You’re still dancing for fun and hanging out with the girls from your last group-” 

They’re trading memories back and forth, with the deposit for more shenanigans beckoning to be cashed. In all of this you’re just an innocent bystander, fixated on the sudden pressure of Dahyun’s ass against your crotch with Minju fixing up her hair in a tiny, messy bun. The slim line on both pairs of collarbones reeling your eyes and gazing into their eyes. Minju’s cheekbones at the highest peak they could ever be with that photogenic grin; Dahyun looks up from underneath to see and realize you’ve been enamored from the event earlier. 

“That’s right, I forgot. He hasn’t stopped noticing you with your fabulous dress, Minju. Since we crossed paths in the hotel before driving over.” Dahyun declares, in the most roundabout way of letting it known you wanted her. All you do is nod in admission. Then, Minju bites down her lip - eyes unfailing because apparently the girl knows everything. “Speaking of which-” 

“Same hotel, right?” Minju offers. You could imagine the scattered sparkles over her head. “I suppose I can hitch a ride with you guys on the way back?” 

–

The worst part about these events would definitely be the traffic. 

With the streets packed with cars and taxis, waiting for every red light to turn green with the fingers tapping on the wheel starts to get a little more erratic out of impatience. You’re already in a sour mood on the way out because the valet couldn’t stop bitching and there was a scuffle near the door; but your attention isn’t on the road- rather, Minju in the driver seat - on your lap, in fact- feeling your mouth more than you feeling hers. 

“Isn’t this a bit restricting?” Minju asks as she draws back, fingers in the opening of your necktie and pulling. “Looking flustered with a pretty woman on top of you, hm? Or is that the alcohol blushing your face.” 

“It’s a bit confining,” you’re saying (and thinking), adding onto the fact of the growing tent at your crotch - accepting the weight of her ass holding you down - there’s no way in hell she hasn’t noticed it yet- 

“Careful now,” Dahyun jumps in from the seat behind, happily watching. You’re unsure if she’s saying that to you or Minju - there’d be no difference in that regard anyway. “We wouldn’t want to have something bad happen to all of us, right?” 

“Do you know who I am?” you mumble, getting caught in Minju’s lips and her hands doing all the right things to make sure your foot stays on the brake pedal. The light then turns green, stopping at the sudden movement of the car, bringing her knees higher to give your arm more space. “You’re lucky the hotel isn’t far this time around.” 

“Oh? What happened before?” Minju inquires, “Don’t tell me you got pulled over with her sitting on your lap like this.” 

“Almost,” answers Dahyun, slipping Minju’s heels off from her feet, leaving a few kisses on them. Another hint to keep as to what this girl likes - what she’s into. Dahyun wasn’t kidding when she explained what Minju is behind closed doors and she convinced you without lifting a finger to help her along in doing the honors. “Except you wouldn’t believe what the company had to do to keep the headline from hitting the main news birds.” 

Minju gasps. “So that wasn’t a rumor.” 

“Never happening again,” you rebuke, “Trust me when I say that I dealt with her once we got back.” 

Dahyun sighs out of spite and Minju coos. Slipping your tie from the collar and handing it to the woman in the back like a baton. Un-do’s the top two buttons on your shirt, exposing your neck - freeing up the air. The dress at her legs starts to ruck up in loose rolls, showing more of those incredible thighs- shit, they’re on par with Dahyun’s, that’s for sure. 

“Assuming you two missed the flight back home, I suppose?” Minju keeps talking, leans her head on the window, gets more lapis around her fingers. You look down and- okay, fuck- 

She isn’t wearing any underwear. 

“I don’t really remember,” Dahyun answers, and you notice she’s not at your shoulder anymore. A quick look up at the rearview, her posture is beyond slouched, leaning her head back, fluttering her eyes shut - already ahead of what she’s lacking, hoping you won’t make her wait any longer, but for now, her fingers will have to do. 

No underwear for her, either. She really is playing both sides to this plot. 

“It started with something like that,” you say, paying no further attention to the Dahyun fingerfucking her cunt open in the backseat - as compared to the Dahyun from a few months ago, who did the same exact thing in the passenger side before hopping on your lap - the red and blue lights are shining from the rear. Minju’s case however is a bit different: the girl’s running her hand up and down her waist, dancing along your jaw, finger to your lip and that’s an offer you can’t really refuse, so you lick the pad of her thumb, staring at you in awe, building up the profile in how to get you going. 

“You really are a keeper,” Minju breathes, and Dahyun laughs in agreement, sighing - her fingers clamped by her cunt. Yu could imagine how soaked her digits are. You want to help clean the mess up later. “Do you hear that? Sounds like your girl’s enjoying herself in the back.” 

“Is she? Good to know.” 

“Wanna give her a little show?” 

“What did you have in mind?” Playing into the role so easily Minju doesn’t flinch when your arm goes up and under her legs. The wonderful blessing of pairs, they do come in handy. “I’m an auditory learner, by the way. I like to get an idea of what I’m about to do.” 

Minju was about to explain what was about to happen, but your muscle memory had other ideas: palm feeling out the surface of her soft skin over her ass, thumb lazily tampering the end of her slit, and you hear a sudden hitch - the hook of her fingers around your neck press harder in anticipation. “Here’s a hint: Dahyun’s doing it right now, too.” 

“If it wasn’t obvious enough.” 

“You-ah, you’re a smart guy,” says Minju, biting her finger. “Okay, god. That’s- wow. That’s really fucking good.” 

You sink your thumb in deeper, coat it around that warm slick - swap it for a proper finger, watch her (and the road, mind you) melt at your touch. She mewls at the slow place, and breathes carefully. The same woman who had a captivating sense of beauty talking to you and on stage is withering away by the second. 

“Wait- you, fuck.” She grins. You look back again to Dahyun in the rearview, her head on one side and bobbing her head in approval. Nothing more delightful than the gentle purr of the engine - the light smacks of skin to skin a nice plus. “Please, please-” 

Her eyes are lidded and shimmering at the same time. How is she able to do that? 

“Nice to see you’ve kept yourself busy,” Dahyun chuckles, leaning back forward, nose to your temple. Gently laving her tongue at you, nibbling a bit of skin, the first mark of the night. Her hand keeps your gaze to the front, smears her slick fingers across your lips and when you’re at another red light, she pulls your head to her, claiming your mouth as her own. 

The air’s only getting hotter, the fabric of your shirt’s starting to mold to your body. 

Dahyun’s tongue is already addicting with Minju’s keening at your fingers. You feel helpless with the seatbelt around you and time; it’s also worth noting the shared blessing plus curse in being a very skilled multitasker. Minju’s body jolts, crumpling smaller, pinching her cunt from inside and at the clit, her face scrunching once you’ve discovered her sweet spot that makes her yelp. Oh, oh my. You’re saving that for later. 

You wouldn’t want to have any other problem than this. A prisoner sitting up in heaven. Until the driver behind you holds his horn way longer than you’d liked. 

Dahyun then pushes your face to the windshield again. Minju’s granted a moment to breathe. The pair laughing at the sudden embarrassment of you just now. 

“Mind that you’re still at the wheel, sir?” Dahyun grins, departing her lips and hands to shift the focus to the current task. “The agency’s gonna have your dick if something bad happens to me.” 

“I’m counting on it,” you dart back. Minju shuffles her body to a more comfortable position, slipping her tongue into your mouth intentionally - resulting in an increase over the speed limit, and that gets her cackling. “If it means I get to run away with you.” 

Dahyun tugs the stray end of your hair. “Don’t push your luck.” 

“You didn’t cum yet, Dahyun?” Minju asks, tracing a nail on your cheek. “I can’t believe I just got edged.” 

“We’re breaking you in little by little, sweetheart,” Dahyun replies to Minju, “don’t worry, our lover boy and I are gonna take good care of you when we get there.” 

“You promised?” Minju then adds, sounding like an excited little kid, waiting for their reward. 

“Mhm,” hums Dahyun, “Why don’t you give him a little space to concentrate,” she suggests, the blood running through your veins starts to flow much faster. “How about, giving him a proper trade off for getting you all riled up.” 

As if the night couldn't be any worse (for the better, actually), you’re holding your breath - straightening the posture. 

(You’re just happy this happened to you.) 

So far, Minju’s got a bag full of surprises. What she does next really blows the whole aspect right out of the gate - the kind that risks all your lives in the car if it were to end up off the road. 

Dahyun helps Minju off your lap, ends up back in the passenger seat, her dress rumpled amidst the shuffling to get her knees on the leather, elbows resting above the compartment, staring back - her eyes full of greedier intent. Coy smile and everything, without saying a single word. 

“You’re sure I can?” Minju asks, pinching her lip delicately and Dahyun shelters her grin, aware of what she’s about to do. “I’m not gonna kill him, am I?” 

“Oh please,” Dahyun sighs, hand to shoulder, showing comfort to the approval. Letting go of the reservation. “He lets me have my way all the time. I don’t think he would mind.” 

“Not like I can do anything in this situation,” you shake your head, bearing the sudden influx of movement around your pants. Fingers getting a feel at your thighs, then your crotch-

“Looks like someone’s ready for some action,” Minju breathes, nails clinging to the zipper, tugging. The belt unbuckling soon after. You’re lucky she didn’t go for the seatbelt - for safety reasons. How considerate. 

When your cock is finally brought into the mix, her hand is finally able to wrap around the size of you. She’s left in a slight state of shock, trying to come to grips at the long awaited reveal. 

“Jesus christ,” she breathes, Dahyun’s smirk is one you would like to wipe off of her yourself. Minju’s still reveling at the hold she has on you, in ownership. “How do you deal with this?” 

Dahyun’s answer is an open-ended one: “I just do.” 

No warning is given, Minju’s small nose grazing the head, getting one good whiff at the scent. She sighs, and it’s euphoric. Her tongue is the first to have another sense unlocked; the taste, the feel, the sensitivity - it’s a mutual agreement without diplomacy: you want her, she wants you. 

One more look back at Dahyun, the final confirmation. “May I?” 

You could imagine the subtle nod of approval. And Minju’s mouth takes you. 

All of that sensational alcohol is suddenly in the back of your head, replaced with a new stimulation. 

There is a slight bit of resistance - on reflex: your stomach and legs tensing when Minju slides her mouth, brushing saliva over skin. She stops halfway, coughs, soaking  your cock even more. Even though you can’t see it, you could imagine her eyes cinched shut, enlightened to pleasure you more. 

“Wow,” you’re saying, and the hand grips the wheel even tighter. 

Dahyun’s taken the indulging upon herself, pulling Minju’s dress up from behind, revealing those wide hips, and the irresistible ass attached with it. Palm flat - kneading it where Minju hums at the touch, vibrating it down on your slick shaft, stuffing her mouth as much as she can, swirling her tongue all over, adding more spit to the surface. 

“Can you believe,” says Dahyun, sliding her fingers in Minju’s poor, open cunt, “how wet you made her? You should have some shame.” 

“That isn’t my fault-” 

“But it is.” Dahyun tells you with another kiss to your cheek. 

“Damn right it is.” 

“Just listen.” Dahyun instructs you, letting silence fill up the car and it’s all just the gentle ticks of Minju’s mouth taking you in the driver’s seat. Meticulously calculated to the finest point of your nerves, throat bobbing you - getting used to the unfamiliar girth of your cock. To which she does with ease, like a natural. It’s another story for you to ask about the two once all of this is over. Though you don’t want it to end. 

All of the current thoughts are filled with Dahyun’s moans filling your ear, Minju’s mouth slipping over your lap. 

“Everything okay, Minju?” Dahyun asks, and Minju’s lips pop off the tip with an audible noise. Eyes full of you. She looks at Dahyun with the look of a girl who’s discovered fire. Lips smeared with spit mixed pre-cum. Her tongue licking off the remnants is a telltale of a job not finished. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, shall we?” 

“I’m just having my fun with your toy, that’s all.” Minju reprimands. “I was hoping you’d believe me when I told you before we went on stage.” 

“Are you done showing him what you’re made of, or are you gonna give him more than he asked for?” Dahyun adds, her eyes lidded once again when she sets them on you. 

“If that’s what he likes,” says Minju. 

Your hand would definitely be rather tangled up in Minju’s hair over the wheel. When you wanted to satisfy that necessary impulse- 

“Ah ah,” Dahyun tells you, Minju taking that as her cue to get your cock back in her mouth again, with much more motivation now carried behind the action. It’s a sensory overload on all fronts: the steering wheel, the windshield, Minju’s mouth lapping up your cock all the way in the velvety clinch of her throat, the sounds she’s making. “Shh, I’ve got you. Try to relax. Take us home, and let Minju be a good girl for you.” 

Once you hear the gags become much more louder, the tip of her tongue teasing the base where your balls meet- 

You groan and press on the pedal a little too much, dancing over the speed limit. 

“Mmm,” Minju moans into your skin. The arch in her back now coming to form, Dahyun’s hand still to the rear of her ass. All three of you are playing into the act - curated by Dahyun’s fantasies. 

She’s so good, Minju. Too fucking good. Ever since you’ve laid eyes on her. Now the pretty sight is her face to your hips, makeup messy, dress left in ruin, both holes occupied by you and Dahyun. 

The hotel’s on the right in the next two lights. You can hold it, keep yourself together. Or- have Minju have her fun - make you burst right her and now; not to prove a point, but to show that she’s up for what you’re willing to dish out as soon as you could get back to the room, put the ‘do not disturb’ card out on the handle and eventually tell housekeeping to come back later - if there is a later. 

These two, they’re relentless. They know you’re wrapped around their fingers and there’s not much for you to do except get them back in one piece. It’s on the assignment, but Minju’s bobbing mouth - Dahyun’s snarky dirty comments of how you’re going to fuck her into the mattress is something that the mangers didn’t mention. Rather the exclusivity perk told by the girl herself, a walking apparition of sin and her sexy advocate. You couldn’t ask for anything more than that. 

“Minju, I swear to fuck-” 

Dahyun doesn’t really falter if you were to speak for your own sanity, Minju keeps on sucking to the point where you’re relying on the sheer instinct of keeping the car on the street, deepthroating to submission, letting the friction of her hand bring you closer to that sweet release. 

Christ. 

It really can’t be helped. 

If the right hand is busy, then the left hand is there to pick up the slack on the wheel.

The way you grip Minju’s hair, push her past the comfort zone, take her mouth in - deeper, where you don't believe she’s able to handle, but does. She keeps the rhythm, peak consistency. Her sly mouth filled with heat. Dahyun notices- assists in the movement, hand stacked on yours and she’s amused. 

“Aw, you really like her,” says Dahyun, guiding her tongue into the cuff of your ear, her breath soothing and alarming. “Makes me wonder whose mouth is better: mine or hers.” 

“Shit, baby.” You’re trying, but Dahyun smiles again when she hears the combined sound of Minju’s muffled remark and your loud moan. Minju’s mouth is a literal dream, deliberately filthy; stuffing your cock, fitting the size in a matter of minutes. The taste of you already addicting and she doesn’t let up on the tension, flicking her tongue on the underside and swapping it with her hand, holding you tight where the grip is almost white-knuckled. Tracing every layer from the skin to the veins, memorizing how wide and where to make you lose control. “You shouldn’t test me like this.” 

“How long are you willing to keep it together for me? For us?” Dahyun asks, biting down a patch on your neck and watching the rise and fall of Minju’s head. Her savagery coming to light, deep within the darkness. “You could cum for our little cumdump and she’d be happy with it.” 

“Mmph,” Minju garbles onto your cock. 

“Fuck-” 

“That’s right,” Dahyun murmurs, a hot wet kiss to the same spot where she nibbled, pushing Minju’s head down and holding it there. “Make our slut earn for it.” 

And then- 

You slam on the brakes. 

The movement was sudden (and forceful). Dahyun and Minju share a reaction: gasping in shock where one’s pulling the other for air, eyes quirking like they’re seeing you walk in on them and the appropriate reaction to stare seems the most reasonable one. Dahyun’s hand is still in Minju’s hair, with you paying no attention and pulling the car into the valet lane of the hotel. “We’re gonna make you pay for that,” Dahyun tells you, letting go of Minju - to where she leans over to get the head of your cock wrapped around her pretty lips once again. 

“Uh huh,” you say, tapping Minju’s shoulder, signaling to stop for now, right when your balls were about to burst. “Help me out and make yourselves look presentable, will ya?” 

Minju rises up and wipes the layer of spit spread from her mouth, jaw slack-open and trying to memorize how your cock fills her throat. She’s good and she knows it. You and Dahyun don’t need any other confirmation to tell you she’s ready. 

“If that’s what you want,” hushes Dahyun, nodding Minju to follow your wishes, she carefully puts your cock away while the car’s slowly rolling in the line. Thank god for the tinted windows, and you’re starting to imagine what the pictures would look like if they got leaked. 

Any more time spent in this car and it would’ve ended up off the street. Minju’s lips capture yours first, and then Dahyun’s after. You can’t help staring, because it’s a pretty sweet view. 

–

(Nobody bats an eye at the three of you at the venue, easily the center of attention whether you’d like it or not. Nobody really bats an eye if it’s the hotel doorman seeing you carrying a girl on your shoulder and heels in your hand - another girl in front of you wearing your coat, happily acknowledging the service as if it’s just a normal night. Doesn’t hide the fact the doorman wished he could trade places with you and be in that predicament instead. 

He holds the door when Dahyun goes first, looks you in the eye with Minju bowing her head from behind in a fun way of saying hello and the doorman gives you this look of light confusion, but also: one of those nights, isn’t it? 

Man to man, you just smirk and nod. No need to elaborate any further.)

–

In the elevator, it’s also a one-way ticket to a destination you’ve been to many times with Dahyun before. Whether to put it as your personal heaven or literal hell, it might be simply considered as purgatory. 

If you were half the honest man you were - have a little more truth to your name, you would’ve gotten to know Minju a little more. Break the ice, learn what her hobbies are when she’s not in front of a crowd or camera. When her laugh echoes in the lobby and Dahyun’s trying her best to keep her quiet - even that is near impossible to do. She didn’t even drink that much to begin with, but she sure as hell looks like it. 

She even looks better on her knees, with the panel behind highlighting all the floors to not make it a one-way trip back to the room. 

“Fucking hell,” you hiss, hand deeply planted into her mocha shaded tresses, wet lips prettily wrapped around your cock, slipping a tongue to the slick, sensitive plane every other second making your grip around the railing a little less pleasant. Dahyun’s also lowered herself, tending to your balls and holding your thigh. Neither of them are in competition for your cock- not yet, at least, but the genuflection at your feet is enough to make you think that you’re someone worth worshipping. 

Though, there’s not much to think about when they’re both swallowing your dick down their throats respectively. 

Minju bobs her head up, pops, and Dahyun swallows your dick back in. You’re flexing your stomach as hard as you can. 

“This isn’t too much for you, right?” Minju asks sweetly, batting eyelashes in second nature. Gazing at Dahyun who’s repeating the same moment Minju has been doing since the elevator started working. Your right hand is far off from Dahyun’s head, and you hover it over to keep the pace going. 

“I’d be dead if I said it was,” you admit to Minju, to where she just fucking- looks up, face at the underside and those doe eyes, swimming in black, glistening with such innocence- lapping up the spots where Dahyun can’t reach. “But christ- you two are-” 

“Relax.” You imagine that’s the word Dahyun is saying; but with her mouth filled so full up of your cock the sound comes out as garbled, saliva leaking at the corners. She’s hungry, deprived, longing for your cock. And now she finally has it dancing on her neat little tongue. 

“All the stories she tells me- like, fuck, she looks so hot seeing it happen in person.” 

“Minju.” You’re calling the name like putting the blame on her, staring deep into your soul. She grabs your wrist for you to not let go - to stay - just like this, you’re not going anywhere; you let the back of your head hit the wall as it feels like gravity is leaving your body. “God,” you’re gasping, suffocated by Dahyun throating your cock. “Her mouth is just-” 

“I know, baby,” Minju tells you, above the half-gagged sounds of Dahyun sliding your shaft in and out of her throat, the motion selfish in every bob she does - like she doesn’t want Minju to have her fun. Your breaths staggering with every pass, smothered by the vibration between your legs, moaning with watery eyes. “She’s too good for you, we know.” 

Dahyun lets you breathe, slips her hand all over her newly created mess. Minju stacks her hand right on top. The friction strong enough to pull your weight over them. You could feel your back slide against the metal, knees buckling. 

“Looks like we softened him up, huh Minju?” Dahyun says sweetly, innocuous. “Got it nice and throbbing for you-” 

Minju’s tongue darts at the bead of cum weeping out your slit; makes your hips twitch in the draw-back. “He’s raring to go, have you seen the look on his face?” 

When they both look up: you’re dumbstruck, ogling - but all that pride you had at the start of this is nowhere to be seen. 

“What floor is your room again?” 

“29th.” 

“Just a couple more floors up,” you say and they’re both giggling. Either at you, specifically - or the limitless amounts of tricksd how you’re going to pull and bend their gorgeous little bodies. Sensibility and control has no meaning to them. It probably has no meaning to you after everything that’s unfolded thus far. 

Dahyun and Minju tilt their heads up to the underside of your cock, and the urge to grab both shades of brown to black flashes through your mind, but you digress. 

They (or even you) wouldn’t have to wait any longer. 

–

There’s no subtle preamble. No- that went out the door the moment you stepped in. 

It’s the same order since the foyer: Dahyun first, followed by a clingy Minju and her lips with you the last one to file in line. Minju hasn’t been forthcoming in freeing you from her grasp, but you’re not the kind to fight in these situations - so, you let her kiss you anyway. 

Dahyun tosses your jacket on the chair adjacent to the bed, stains fading from the earlier session, heels gracefully thudding the carpet. The blinds are parted just wide enough to get the backdrop of the cozy blue lighting hitting against the beachfront, the sound of waves crashing into shore. Bags upon bags zipped open with the assortment of essential wear and toiletries. 

Minju’s not letting you go still, arms well hooked to the nape. Like she wants you to pin her to the wall straight away and let Dahyun be the lone spectator, standing in the dark. 

“Can’t even spare one second of decency,” she breathes; you and Minju both look at her, not insulted - technically - but rather in a mere taunt. 

“And what are you gonna do about it?” Minju asks, slyly. You shift your head back on her, let the height do the talking - make her feel small. In hindsight, she’s roughly about Dahyun’s height; that part you figured out the second Dahyun stepped into the conversation back at the party. “Are you going to stand there and watch? Or are you gonna join in on the action?” 

Her voice is beyond casual, and almost a siren’s call. Dahyun doesn’t hesitate with her small stature, pulling one end at the collar of her dress, undoing it. You remember hearing that the dress itself that she was wearing was worth six figures - and she isn’t fazed when the fabric crumples at her hips - then to her thighs. 

The audacity of this woman. Her figure is much more alluring to look at when there’s nothing on it. 

You give your neck a gentle tweak, put any implication of soreness in the back of your head. It’s going to be a long night as it is. 

“Someone’s feisty to get the ball rolling,” you’re saying, lips fast to Minju’s neck; the clutch of her hands and arms already with enough pull. Needlessly. Graciously. She tries to get your shirt off but all you give her is two hands on her shoulders and put her back against the surface. Her head hits the earthy shaded drywall - it might be intentional, or not, you won’t give any quarter either way. 

Dahyun slots herself in, like she did back at the party. Only this time, she’s playing your role as second fiddle, peeling Minju away and giving her some breathing room - just to be snuffed out as she’s treating her lips to the exposed collarbone. 

Minju’s leaning back, arching. Her hands don’t know whether to go to you or to Dahyun. It’s a win-win situation for her (probably a win for all three of you across the board). Two of the most attractive beings she’s ever crossed paths with and finally living out her wildest wet dreams. 

The reality of it hasn’t set in yet, but the cracks are showing when Dahyun hushes into her neck: “We’re going to take good care of you tonight, honey.” She leaves a hot kiss right on the bridge of her collarbone, and you see her lip quivering. “I hope you’re ready for what’s coming.” 

“Do you have any-” Minju’s sentence gets cut short when the press of your fingers gets a little too greedy, bending the blue frame under your will. “-idea of- fuck, how long I waited to finally have a go with your guy?” 

“No,” replies Dahyun, tilting her chin up. Your lips are at her throat again and Dahyun seizes the chance to let Minju speak. “Maybe, I don’t really remember.”

“Let’s not forget,” Minju gasps and the heat rising on her face starts to become noticeable. “That you’re the one who set all of this up.” 

“Did I?” Dahyun’s airheadedness is worthy enough for her to get the dunce cap. “Hmm.” 

“She’s got a point,” you’re dishing out the unsolicited reality check. “I’m on Minju’s side here.” 

Minju smiles as Dahyun rolls her eyes. The air in the room is thicker here compared to the car, shared breathing amongst you three intoxicating enough to get high on. It’s a higher plane of existence - a nirvana. Minju’s fingers trace the cotton on your waist, goes lower, till her fingertips get the cool touch of the belt buckle. There isn’t much to be said here; nothing but sly comments and filling the other’s ego to the brim. “Heh. The majority is two to one.” 

You realize that it was a collective effort a while ago. Though, you liked the idea of being the bigger person over the both of them, literally. 

You’ll have pride in that regard, especially in the ways you want to go about things. Dahyun lets her fingers slide over Minju’s body, canvas the curves in her wrinkled dress and slowly drag the material down in a fashion that makes your cock throb even harder against the cotton, beneath Minju’s hand. Showing care in the craft before the messy idea of undressing fills her mind. It’s Newton’s third law in real time: Dahyun setting the vision in motion and everything else seems to topple down like dominoes. 

“Should we take things slowly?” Dahyun asks; proposing a challenge with the heavy implication of doing the opposite - albeit a complete rhetorical. “Make him lose his mind in being gentle and get him antsy?” 

“Please,” Minju says with a hitched inhale, a hiccup, when the cool air finally hits her skin. “Anything but that.” 

“You want more than just a hot mouth and fingers, huh?” Cute.” She tells Minju, dryly. “Well, why don’t you show him again how ready you actually are.” 

Minju’s way ahead before you get the chance to register it: her hand well below your waist, wrapping her dainty fingers around your cock and the reflexive suck of your gut is the exact same as in the car when her lips make contact she can- god - she’s gonna- 

Both exchange and share a glance, leaning their heads and drinking the sight of your inevitable demise. Minju raises her leg in the open space of yours and Dahyun’s happily helping along - hand to her thigh and making her feel lighter. 

And your mind feels the exact same way when you kiss Minju once more. Which shows how much passion she has in somebody she likes; it’s sweet, wonderful, and really just pushing to keep going. Dahyun watches the whole thing unfold: you gripping tighter on Minju and handing you over the work while she pulls the dress lower and lower until it’s nothing but a pool of blue at her feet. Then she pitches in the effort. If a pair of hands and mouth isn’t enough for Minju, what’s wrong with adding another? Your clothes are soon falling out of your rigid frame not long after, and that’s the last piece finally unraveling. Minju’s still got her hand to your cock still and you’re tending to her breasts - her collarbone, Dahyun letting the width of her hips fill her palms and settles in the place of Minju on the wall. 

You really can’t help yourself. Hands feasting over the unclaimed skin. You’re grasping Minju’s waist, her unimaginable ass - you hear Dahyun laugh as you’re nibbling on her jaw. The facial structure itself reminds you of another girl you and Dahyun had escapade with not long ago: Tzuyu was her name- was it? Probably. Now isn’t the time to think about it. 

Because you keep kissing Minju. There isn’t really any other motive than that. Her pert mouth with those pouty lips, the sticky-messy kind and perfect enough to get more sloppy. Dahyun covers her breasts and pinches the hard buds as Minju accustoms your leg in the space between her legs. And she’s just- having the most fun out of the three of you. You think it would be Dahyun having her ‘i made it moment’ right at this second, and you’re sure she has that thought somewhere in her brain. This is Minju’s time to shine, between you two, and she’s living in it. One hand is full of Dahyun’s ass from behind, and the other’s pulling your cock closer and closer to her hips until the bits of precum starts to smear over her stomach, jerking and jerking. 

“I haven’t mentioned how much I love this cock,” Minju spills with an airy laugh. Biting her lip down at feeling she got back in the car. Though she lays an admission: “If you really let me, I would’ve hopped on it in the driver's seat while we were on our way back.” 

“You should’ve,” you were about to say, but Dahyun beats you to it. “Had you been riskier enough.” 

Minju bites her lip down a little harder, head tipped by Dahyun that shines a spot on her chest where you notice a beauty mark- actually two beauty marks. Something to keep focus on with your eyes and not gander down to her hand had your cock. Rubbing your head right at her clit and she- 

“No doubt she’s ready,” you tell the both of them, putting your two fingers between your cock and her cunt for confirmation. “I was surprised you didn’t jump on the opportunity in the car.” 

“Thought I could skip to the part where you take me as I am, like I haven’t been touched in my life.” Minju threads the phrase out smoothly; little does she know that would be the last coherent thing she will say tonight. Blatantly point out the most obvious thing in your eyes: “you’ve got two of the most beautiful women in your hands and your cock isn’t fucking me yet. Is- is that gonna change anytime soon-” 

“To hell with the foreplay and toying,” Dahyun coyly says, setting the declaration. “Say goodbye to your legs for the time being. You won’t be able to feel them once we’re done, or even if you’re ready for seconds.”

“Or thirds.” You smirk. 

“Even if your manager calls him, he won’t answer.” Dahyun assures. 

Somehow the three of you were going to end up in the bed one way or another, but right now: Dahyun raises Minju’s arms up, her wrists crossed instinctually, and opens up the chance for you to lift her leg. The stability is there with Dahyun behind, closing the distance where it’s skin on skin on skin. 

Dahyun’s dreamy gaze captures her creation coming to life, holding her hips along with you, then her nuzzling cheek to the back of her neck. “The perfect girl.” All sleepy smiled with her eyes closed, “A clean slate for him to just-” 

Right when you slip your cock inside, it’s behind closed doors - no flashing cameras, no name being called to the stage. 

You’ve got Minju right where she is. Where she wants to be. 

“Oh sweetheart,” you breathe, and you don’t flinch at the broken pitch Minju sings. 

“-fuck your brains out to your wildest dreams. Isn’t that right, Min Min? Look into his eyes and show him how badly you want it.” 

You freeze. Because you’re just staring into the endless void of those illustrious, beautiful irises Minju bears. Her face pulls a minor wince at the sensation - like she’s about to cry, but she’s nodding despite it; her arched back, the tipped head, her leg bound to your thigh - curling her toes and sinking her nails into your shoulders- holding on for dear life. 

The only thing you want to manage: “Minju, baby- this cunt.” This is something you want to capture, fulfill a desire you didn’t think you had. Dahyun will be expecting your thanks later, and you’ll owe her big time. 

“Mhm, I figured.” Dahyun laughs, victorious. “Go ahead, fuck those pretty lips of hers. Make her cum like you do with me.” 

“You’ll get me again.” You’re saying that as some routine, rather than a promise. The groan falling out your tongue is a red herring in itself. Minju’s ass rests on your hands, still getting used to the insane width of her hips when rounding at the swell. Spread her raised leg wider to push your cock all the way in. Murmuring and mumbling the same in loose prayer. 

Minju’s learning curve isn’t hard to follow, nor get used to. Even though it’s the first time you’ve got yourself inside all night, that's evident with the amount of ‘holy shit’ you keep mouthing as she puffs her chest out, lifting her upper half as the lower is hopelessly slipping down your length. Dahyun wasn’t kidding when she told you her body was primed for sex: hips broad enough for you to palm (and not grip if needed), to her slick cunt, swallowing up the shaft with an endless supply of heat. 

Dahyun hums above the tics Minju gives with her exhales, sliding her hips down to yours; rolling them on the slight elevation provided by her other leg still on the floor, tip-toed. “Okay- holy shit,” she grits, her sly and elegant persona ripped out of her; in disbelief and in reverence: “How does this even fucking-” 

A hold and yank at the apex. The audible slap is loud for someone to hear next door. Minju’s yelp doubles down on the point. 

In the heat of everything. In the heat of Minju’s cunt swallowing your cock whole now. Dahyun caresses her friend’s pleasure-stricken expression, nibbling and kissing the cuff of her ear. Hand now to her clit to get her closer- faster- to that fine edge. Minju’s back bucks the opposite of the arch she managed to hold impressively well, but Dahyun (again, you can thank her for the literal support) presses down on her upper back, opens her breasts up for you to smother yourself in. 

“It just does. He just does.” Dahyun supplies Minju’s working theory. “Your pretty pussy is made for a cock like his. Such a good girl for taking him so well-” 

“Fuck-” is all Minju stutters. Unable to say anything else. 

Her body is unbelievably responsive with the slip in, drag out motion. After all, you’re the one giving the goods. Fucking her poor pussy and splitting her legs open and listen to her whine and whimper in the same repeating fashion before Dahyun swoops her lips in to shut her up. “Oh my god,” she mumbles into the pair. “It’s so good,” and it’s everything to her. “His cock fills me up so well-” 

“Right? Just let him take care of you, baby? Okay?” Dahyun’s fingers corral in a ‘v’, where she catches some of the slick and your cock sliding and feel how wet you two made her. She looks down in the low lights, gasps. “You see that? So much fucking cream down there. You naughty girl.” 

You look down as well, and it’s a gentle layer of white spread all over. Minju’s liking this, and you are too. 

“Holy shit,” Minju spits. The sound competing between the wails and moans - you feel her leak more. “So good. So good-” 

“Yeah?” You and Dahyun say in unison. Softly. Cradling poor, pretty Minju. 

“I can’t- I need. I need you two-” 

You can’t stop this. Dahyun will have your dick severed and in her hand if you do. But who in their right mind would ever think of dropping her while she’s coming undone. Not while Dahyun’s arms are hooked beneath Minju’s shoulders; you, holding her dangling leg up higher, stretching Minju’s body in the hopes of furthering the sensation. Break that cunt up along with her voice. 

“Breathe, Min Min. Let him take you,” Dahyun shoots a glance at you, mouth hovering yours like a tease at the crossroads. Minju’s hand clings to the back of your head, lips to the ear, head bobbing amongst the hitched gasps and clench of her teeth. 

“Minju.” You’re saying her name that way for the second time tonight. “God- look at you. Such a good fucking girl for me, letting us hold you while I fuck your cunt up all the right ways,” you groan, “-Dahyun holding you up while I dick you down-” 

“Bless her, bless you,” she sighs out in thanks. “You’re too good to me.” 

The rhythm keeps going. Your mind doing everything it can to keep up with the beats down your heart and hips. Minju’s body is in complete euphoria the way you pull halfway and drive back in, watch her face light up a million times brighter when Dahyun slips a finger in along with your cock. 

“As if you wanted anything else- fucking- unreal.” She’s still got that confidence from earlier. Hoping that you can take that away from her. 

“Wouldn’t trade the world for this,” you say. 

“Why would we?” Dahyun adds on, and it just- feels right. Those two got all the awards. You’re just acknowledging them with your own reward. 

Minju clings on tighter. The arch in her back going the opposite direction as before, hunching, embracing; hopelessly becoming a puddle soaking your body. Her sweet little cunt and those fox like eyes, the low timbre of her voice coming around only to be replaced with a high pitched moan - it’s a splitting image, in the appearance and feeling - embedding your cock inside to the same spot you hit before and you almost feel bad for the girl. Like she was meant to take the hitting hips- because she’s made for it. 

Dahyun - to her own fun, coils her fingers around your shaft. To add to the pressure, the friction. She even teases the outer rim of Minju’s pussy lips because she can. Those small hands: so delicate and light, touching and pinching and even gently slapping- 

Minju wails. 

“You- you’re- you’re gonna make me fucking cum-” 

“Goodness, are we?” Dahyun inquires, sneering into Minju’s cheek. 

“Yes, yes-” 

“I don’t think he heard you just now,” Dahyun hushes, “say it one more time for us, Min min,” and you know well that power isn’t one of Dahyun’s key archetypes, but when she grips Minju’s chin and wiggles a finger past her teeth. She doesn’t even register the nice nerve pinch at the bite. “You fucking little slut. Minju, take that fucking cock in your pussy like it’s yours-” 

“B- Be” 

“What’s that?” The pleads are helpless, because Minju’s fingers slip and grasp onto you, raising her body like that was the thing holding her back. It doesn’t stop you from fucking her cunt into oblivion - having the tight heat and engulfing sopp of her pussy be the only thing for you to focus on. 

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” Dahyun says, and her circling hand doesn’t let up as Minju’s voice reaches those similar tones, “Why don’t you do it. Cum. Cum right now. All over his fucking cock-” and at this point, most of the superiority complex has fully taken over. Enough with all the nice praise and encouragement, Minju will do exactly what Dahyun tells her to do: “Let his cock cum up all inside your pretty little belly, make you feel so full. I better see that small bump where it’s poking so deep-” 

“Yes-” 

You’re blindly nodding along. Hips coming to contact with hers in muscle memory. “I know you want everyone to hear you, huh Minju? How much of a whore you can be when you got a nice cock all up inside you, breeding-” 

“Yes, please.” Minju gasps. “Please, just- give me that-” 

“Say it.” Dahyun announces. “We wanna hear your pretty voice.” 

Minju, at the center of everything; the center of you two, lays it out: “My god- yes, I want his cum so bad. I want him to - shit! Yes, yes, have him breed my - fucking - pussy and nothing else-” 

You look to Dahyun for the revelation, and she gives you this look saying: Yeah, you heard the girl. Go ahead and give her a baby. 

Then she adds: “If that’s what she likes, don’t stop.” 

So you keep fucking her. Slam your hips harder. Minju’s downfall ripples over her body as she tries to stand on her leg. Her head rests at your chest, at the collarbone, her tongue licking up the sweat off your skin. She murmurs a “hmm’ with her jaw chattering, in response to you saying her name, every angle of her cunt shaping itself to your cock. Bottoming out in a seamless fashion which does feel like you’re fucking Dahyun again - the feeling eeriely the same. Since she utters the same words Dahyun said to you multiple times before: 

“Cum,” she sputters. “Want your cum so bad. Want you to breed me over and over and over-” 

Dahyun’s massaging her belly as you could feel the nerves in your body go haywire. Minju’s body goes limp at the hold as you keep pushing your cock deep into her cunt at a consistent pace, taking it slow with one good stroke - and you breathe, deep. Look in Dahyun’s eyes and see her veneers peering into a smile, right where you’re about to lose it. There, in Minju’s stomach, and Dahyun’s words cross your mind as to how deranged the proposition was in the first place. 

You don’t even register the pulses, cumming inside her. She’s wailing so loudly that it mixes with the tinnitus ringing in your ears. 

Minju’s lips goes slack, mouthing incoherent nonsense, head tipped over the shoulder making her neck look longer. 

“Aw, there we go,” Dahyun coos into Minju’s ear, patting her belly. “Got it warm and thick- in your nice little stomach.” She then swipes her slit, now coated in white, gets a taste for herself - a small little appetizer. “Mmmm, yummy.” 

It takes your entire being to fuck her whole one last time, wrenching out the last few shots of cum in Minju’s cunt. “Fuck-” Minju slurs out, letting her limbs go limp; lazily kissing you and her fingers graze the ends of your hair - lightly clinging. 

“Honey,” you breathe, and it’s fucking wonderful. “Was it everything you wanted?” 

Her throat bobs as Dahyun makes you take over the weight, carrying her by the ass, the loosely wrapped legs giving weight. The smirk she bears is enough to show you. Yes. You wonder. Perfect. Perfection at its finest. 

–

“Dahyun,” you’re calling out, and she shows her side profile over her shoulder, hand to her chest behind her back, the naked hourglass figure impossible to look away. 

She replies, “Hm?” Asking like she doesn’t know what’s about to happen. 

Minju’s hobbling along, hand wrapped to your cock and jumpstarting your sore muscles, kissing your arm since the girl can’t get enough. 

“There’s a reason why the blinds are open.” 

“Is that so?” She’s teasing, walking on the balls of her feet until the moonlight cascades around her frame, outlining in the brightness. “I hope you’ll keep your promise in fucking me on the balcony.” 

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” you tell her, and Minju snorts in the back - still cock drunk and lust ridden where she’s finding everything to be funny. 

Minju gets ahead of the curve, leaving you for the woman in front. Hand caressing her backside; from her ass, working the way up. Dahyun may not look like it, but she’s been waiting for you to have a go at her. Most of the outside has faded out from your vision; leaving you, her, and Minju. 

“Had I not been here, it would’ve just been you two in this room together,” Minju says, leaning over next to Dahyun and arching her back the same way as she is. “Guess I should consider myself lucky,” she says, smile widening when you finally reach Dahyun’s backside. 

“We’re not done with you,” Dahyun tells her, a sharp inhale passing her teeth when the head of your cock slides across her aching folds. Up, down, maybe a little slap to just be evil. “Oh, babe. Don’t do this to me.” 

“What is it that I’m doing exactly?” You ask naively, eyes hypnotized at the width of her ass, brushing against your cock without you having to do anything. “I’m not the one who’s a little antsy to get split apart.” 

“That’s what she wants out of you,” Minju groans, slipping her two fingers inside her own cunt - probably to mimic the feeling. “Maybe you need a reference to look at.” 

“No need,” you retort, pursing your lips the more you push your cock into her sopping cunt, stomach billowing for the unexpected blowback. Get your hands at the swell of her sloping hip and lean down to kiss her back. 

“Oh, oh-” Dahyun’s mouth cobbles out, putting her face against the glass and she lifts her body to the feeling of your lips. “There- right there, that fucking cock is just-” 

“Big? Amazing? Too much?” Minju teases, burying her nose into her temple, licking her cheek. “I had a feeling you’d clench a little harder when he slipped it in.” 

You remember like it was the first time, how she fits so snug around your cock like a sock or a glove in the first slow strokes, getting acquainted with how her wals kiss every sensitive part and nerve and vein across your shaft. How she messes around with the angle and even getting on her tippy toes - to deepen the arch in her back and lift her ass up since the flexibility is always a-fucking-must. Pushing down with your hand for one second and grabbing the ends of her the next. Soon you’ll imagine the ripples on her skin match the waves below, creaming her cunt as her heat swallows you whole. 

Minju treats herself, which makes the whole job easier. Dahyun knows well how you’ll take her however you’d like. Faster, harder, softer even. And she won’t hesitate to tell her needs. Your grip around her hair tugs a little harsher, but she can take it. When the strokes start to increase in pace, where you’re dragging back as far as you can and yank her hips back onto yours - make her yelp, let the whole world know who’s yours. 

“Fuck- fuck, he feels-” Dahyun spills out, kissing and telling. Minju hums in agreement because she knows and doesn’t need her to explain anything else. “Don’t- shit, just keep your fucking cock inside-” and your grip on her ass isn’t kind from this point on. The sensation choking you like a vice, the tightness, her heat leaking in the wetness around your cock. Minju brings Dahyun’s arm around her back, another hold for you to grab, and you can see the fist she forms which doesn’t help to the trembling legs below. “Fuck- you’re rubbing me up so good, how the fuck do you do that?” 

“He just does,” Minju says, and it’s a callback - a full circle moment of sorts, really. 

“Hey, those are my words-” 

“Not anymore,” she tells her, hand deep in her hair and keeping her neck upright, cheek away from the cold pane of the glass. “Not while lover boy here’s finally owning your ass to thank you for bringing us all together here. So he’s gonna hold you- like this, and fuck your pussy full until you beg him to stop. Even if he does- it’ll be done with a hot load up in your fucking guts.”

The further you push your cock in, the more addicting the feeling gets. Your hands are leaving red over the pale canvas and her neck is riddled in crimson. This is what she wanted after all - what she asked for. She pleas for a breather, which you give: “Wait- wait; fuck, I need a second- okay,” while you slide the length all the way, pull her body up and pin her where her tits spread across the window, the coolness absolving the heat away. Minju’s kissing her shoulder, then yours, and manages to get her lips to the both of you when Dahyun’s back is flush with your front. 

“How much time do we need?” Minju asks, gauging the conditions. 

“A few seconds,” you supply unknowingly, to which Dahyun shakes her head. “Don’t know about her, though.” 

From her, through blown out eyes, “I still want him.” 

“You already have him.” Minju tells Dahyun, and her body goes even further back when she feels the friction inside her. 

So. You keep going. Even when the sound ripped out of your lungs is agonizing because the wetness is making you desperate for that chained release. Dahyun groans - growling with shut eyes and taking your cock deep. 

(She may not admit it for the next few moments, but she’ll also beg for the same thing you gave to Minju.) 

“I think she’s ready,” is what Minju says, eyes flaring in excitement at the sudden slip of your fingers in her cunt, a pinch to her cunt as a reminder of her place in all of this. “Okay,” she’s telling you, “Sorry, I- fuck; can’t even have my own fun, can I?” 

“Be a darling and try to keep her quiet, or don’t,” you say, one full stroke in and pulling your hips all the way back. “I love when she gets this way.” 

Minju’s face forms this look, with a twitch when Dahyun clenches around your cock the second or third thrust, twitching her brows at the sound of knees banging the glass on accident, but the pain is subsided by pleasure instantaneously. “Why don’t you show us how messy you can get with her then?” 

Dahyun’s voice lifts when the pace resumes to normal. She’s gotten herself so soaked that it’s leaking onto your cock - out her folds. She bites down a squeal or two when your fingers bury themselves into her hair, tip her head backwards and her muscles are reduced to pure putty. You and her try your best to keep track of the strokes - the fifth, the sixth, the seventh one where it grants an ass slap. Minju, in the midst of all this, serves a poetic justice of her own when she grabs Dahyun’s chin and slips a finger inside - something to keep her mind off of the pounding from the back and lets you test how deep her back can bend. Or even slip around to her stomach and bring her body the other way where it curves your cock deep in her womb and that’s a spot you don’t remember hitting before, but- God, the yell reaches a new note tonight. 

One touch. One touch is all it took, to ease Dahyun’s mind from the endless wrath of pleasure coursing all over her body. That’s given by Minju, in the most Minjuest way possible - kissing her swollen lips, swallowing her moans down her throat so Dahyun can only hear the claps of skin, waving and rippling in your eyes. 

“Oh fuck!” Dahyun screams into Minju’s face, but she just laughs it off since it’s nothing personal. 

Minju just kisses Dahyun again. Muting her cries and smiling into the girl. She loves her. Adores her. You’re pretty sure these two have hooked up without you knowing and it’s already shown in how much passing they’re both putting into it. 

Dahyun loves having it rough - you’re happy to give that to her. For how badly she needs this. 

It’s all riding on the feel of her cunt, how it’s managed to get you in every nook where your cock touches inside her, the trick of her tongue and mouth working you to that point earlier - ripping the sounds deep in your lungs, but it’s her who cums the second out of you three. 

You’re fucking her so hard she can’t control her voice. 

A ripple effect in real time. Her heat washes over every corner of her body - you swear you haven’t gotten your cock deep enough so she can grab and curl around to own you, where you think she already has. Coming all the way undone. And it’s messy. So fucking messy. 

Her hands hold you so dearly, lips so close to yours. You could see the hint of her reflection, how the light shines on her porcelain skin and the faint lines of her eyes closed, encapsulated in pleasure. Minju’s chin is stacked on your shoulder and pulls a lazy smile. Mumbling sweet nothings beneath the rising moans, adjusting to you and Dahyun’s height where she stands a tad bit taller. 

In another corner of the universe, the roles could be switched between them, leading to the same inevitable outcome. 

“Fuck me full,” Dahyun tells you, alternating with every wince and groan spilling out of her lips. “Want it- so fucking bad. You perfect bastard-” Here you’re cupping her chin as her voice gets raised - more, more, or some substance of the syllables where you’ve heard them before. With a lover's touch and mindful care for a face and body like hers, unlike the slick noises of your cock jutting out and embedding itself back in, Minju licking your neck which slightly helps the condition but not by much. 

You and Minju can see Dahyun’s breath bless the class with a white, grayish fog, lip quivering until she has to hold it down to proffer a few more parting words: “hold me, love me, don’t let me down, please,” then, “your cock is-” 

“Hold her up until she can’t take it anymore,” Minju growls, “She’s not gonna last any longer-” 

“You fucking slut,” you snap back at Minju, probably to Dahyun too with her mewling in some form of an agreement. The pounding of your hips keeps its pace. 

She clenches a bit harder to the increased tempo. 

Sooner or later, you’ll have to wind up on the bed. Not just to rest, relax, or take a breather, but to swap the idea of putting your legs up rather than on the ground, fighting against gravity. Though, you’d love to stay like this- for as long as you could hold it, where the mix of blue and white illuminates through the looking glass and to your bodies. Dahyun’s fingers slide up on the pane, fingers spreading, high to where she could get them, extending her figure to the heavens where the imaginary gods could look down in astonishment. 

“Dahyun, you feel- fuck, I’m cumming,” you sputter, “God, baby-” pushing her body flat and railing her ass beyond the breaking point. 

Two good strokes would be the last good moves from you, fucking your cum into the muscles of Dahyun’s cunt, where you want to add fuel to the fire - soak up all the slick with more spill. The three of you are all collectively groaning and saying obscene words, burying the evidence and hope to god a scandal won’t come out of it. You pull out, slowly, let Dahyun savor the feeling of your cock leaving her. Minju’s pulling her head the other direction and sloppily slicking up her lips. Some of the cum gets on the head of your cock; so, you rub her pink folds and push right back in, see Dahyun’s body tense up since you gave her no warning, and Minju just laughs. You’re even kissing her first then Dahyun’s backside, with your cock warm in her cunt still. 

Neither of you three move. It’s a moment to breathe, reflect. Normally you would be the first to panic for every slip into the mess up with Dahyun. 

(In reality: you fucking love it. Despite the denial in the admission.)

You’ll just wait for the pregnancy scare to come back around again. 

“Is our lovely little princess all fucked out and bred up like she asked?” Minju says, rubbing Dahyun’s back and belly and peppering her shoulder with more kisses. Holding her while you take a step back and plop to the side of the mattress. 

Dahyun, still breathing in between smacking lips, “I want another.” 

You and Minju both look at each other in surprise. “She’s usually competitive with me,” you say, “so it’s nothing new.” 

“I figured,” Minju brushes it off, helping Dahyun walk over to you, one straddling leg over the other. Where Dahyun truly shines in the height advantage. Can’t deny she looks pretty with her straight hair now frazzled, from all the pulling and grabbing- 

“Min min,” Dahyun calls Minju, “Do you mind grabbing something for me?” 

“What is it? And where.” 

“Michael Kors duffle bag, middle zipper.” Is all she says, and her lips are back on you. The kiss alone in a normal occasion would be enough for you to lose the air in your chest, away from the public eye and you two can fully embrace each other between the intimate, slow sex to the fast, rough fucking depending on the mood - usually one outshines the other and it’s an open ended interpretation. 

Minju disappears out of your view for what seems like a few seconds, comes back with a hat in her fingers, holds it as she sees you and Dahyun cross further away from the edge. Refusing to keep your eyes on Minju, Dahyun’s hands are quick to shift your gaze back on her - hitching between muffled words and sighs and moans all the same, pressing down hard on skin where the shade goes beyond red. 

You, of all people too, should know this: what Dahyun has is hers to keep.

“Greedy little girl isn’t she?” Minju asks, with a little smirk peeking at the corners. Scooting herself closer and closer to the action in excitement. The unspoken law of attraction, possessed by you and Dahyun both. “So tragic - like she can’t get enough.” 

“You too,” Dahyun darts back, shimmying her pussy lips down at the underside and it’s the slightest bit of -fuck, pressure applied at the underside, her gyrating hips doesn’t help the case either. 

Minju passes the hat off to her; as fitting for the position that she’s in: a cowgirl hat she puts on to make the appearance true to life. 

You catch yourself staring much longer than usual. 

“Makes no sense,” breathes Dahyun, brushing the head of your cock against her folds with such ease, and you move her hand away to tap lightly on her clit. Made you want more. “How his cock is still hard after he-” 

“Fucked your ass raw?” 

(I mean, yeah-) 

“Mmm, I think she’s ready,” Minju says, huskily,  hand to cheek and you don’t think twice when her thumb slips past between your lips. The wicked smile eliciting as she’s doing so only sparks a multitude of different things to try after- or later. “Ride his cock, Dahyunie. I wanna see how good you can tame him.” 

It’s very possible, and she’s done it before. 

Dahyun pushes you back into the sheets, lets your hands roam all over her front, “My lovely girl,” you coo, smirking. 

She gasps, bites down hard on her teeth at the feeling of your cock pushing in, filling her up. “God- okay, wait-” 

The fucking stretch. Slow at first, but once she took more than half the seamless movement of her taking the entire length is a sight you’re hoping to see again and again. Your thumbs find themselves at the indent of her hip and thigh, greedily pressing down and unwilling to let go. Rigid to smooth, the breaths steadying with every rock of her hips. 

You lean up and fix the hat for her, leave a kiss on her neck for the good job. “Good?” 

“Mmm,” Dahyun hums with a smile, getting more and more confident with the feeling. “Feels so fucking good.” 

Minju grabs hold of her waist and raises her up- just slightly, where you could feel your shaft tense up in anticipation. But instead, you buck your hips to meet in the middle, wrap your hand to her waist along with Minju’s arms as Dahyun grinds her cunt onto your cock. 

“Bet that must feel real good for you, doesn’t it?” Minju giggles out. 

“Oh, I can’t even begin to describe it,” you barely whisper, because Dahyu’s cunt sucks the air right out of you. 

“Won’t be long for seconds then, are we?” 

Minju’s words fizzle out in your ears the more you watch Dahyun lean forward one second, back the next, hips rising and falling on your shaft. The expressions written on her face changing every beat of skin hitting against itself, alternating between fucking herself to you thrusting. If Minju’s words couldn’t register in your head, then the sounds of Dahyun whining on top is literal music happening in real time. 

Minju’s on her knees, rubbing herself up at the sight of Dahyun hopping along. Until you decide to help along to reach that high again. In the embrace of your head on your chest, you’re scattering kisses all over her breasts and soon the idea of Dahyun and Minju getting off to you becomes more and more of the current reality. 

Dahyun sucks in, through her teeth and stomach, curling her lips when the upward thrusts start to get ruthless. Her hands are gripping and soon the patchwork of nails will start clawing their way into your skin. Despite all that, her body holds still to your grasp, like it’s used to the clutch and all she has to do is keep herself still. 

“My- fuck, it’s not even fair; so- so fucking big, you are,” she strains out, hooking an arm around your neck and your hand’s to her ass. “Baby please- ‘m gonna fucking-” is the last thing she says before her own cry cuts her off, burying her lip into the dip of your shoulder - the ache coursing through her body she has to channel it through her teeth onto your skin. 

“Cum,” Minju orders, knowing very well Dahyun’s getting to that point. Fixing the hat so dutifully and moving the wisps of hair falling to her front. “I know you want to. You can take it. You can take him.” 

You’re certain you could hear the squelch of her cunt the faster you move. 

“For me,” you say, the low rumble in your tone slightly trembling, trying to keep up. “Just a little more.”

“Yours- yours. So yours, please. It’s all yours-” 

She’s biting hard on her bottom lip, and you’re shushing her. 

“Breathe, babygirl.” 

“God- it’s, ugh,” groans Dahyun. “K-keep going-” 

Little do you realize, she’s been working you up again. In those wobbling lips and the gasps in the little spaces of your bodies, shadowed by the echoing of wet skin hitting against itself. Dahyun switches from the fast fall of her hips, to the agonizing grind of your cock filling her up - all the way down to the hilt. 

It doesn’t take much - not that it had to. Dahyun’s helpless to stop the second spill of cum flooding her womb; the sounds of her the same as always: fucked to the brim, where the head of your cock gets to the deepest spot in her cavern and you see her ruby shaped eyes meet yours - half-lidded and hazy. Just the way you like them. 

“Fuck, Dahyun-” 

“Ah,” Minju sighs, ‘There we go. Finally.” She’s saying like it’s some relief, cradling Dahyun’s pleasure stricken head as her body freezes when she rests her hips for the last time, leaning down to kiss your mouths in a lazy fashion, then to your jaw, whispering a string of words you’ll ask her later when she’s back to her sense. 

Her lips are back to where they never leave: yours. “Do-” she tries to say, and you’re laughing. 

“What is it, love?” You like throwing the pet name around. Maybe the meaning behind it doesn’t apply to her (yet), but it does for your case. “Use your words. Anything.” 

“Let. Let-” 

“Take your time.” You’re speaking oh-so softly to her. She’s still got her hat on, sliding off her hair and behind. 

Dahyun takes a few breaths to collect herself. All her thoughts as best she could conjure up. Which she does: “I want him to milk you again.” 

Comically on cue, you and Minju both gasp. Is it in shock? Surprise? No. Neither of those assumptions could suffice the wicked grin Minju has on her face. Not that it was a competition or an endurance test. You’ve concluded that both of these girls are absolute freaks having fun with a cock together. 

“Didn’t he just-” 

“He’s a good one.” Dahyun explains with no elaboration to Minju, for (hopefully) the last time. Sucking in a shared inhale when her pussy lips slide up and off your cock, the audible wet sound beyond obscene; some of the locks on her hair actually get caught to the slick underside, licking the evidence and pursing her mouth right above your balls. “What? You don’t trust me?” 

“No, it’s not that. I just-” 

“Why don’t you lay down and let him make you feel good? Don’t you want him to fuck your hole full again? Until you’re sick and cock drunk you go dumb?” 

By your own standards, this is teetering to pure insanity for Dahyun. Minju doesn’t see it that way, since her expression hasn’t changed, putting no fight when Dahyun’s hands are on her body, flipping her over on her back and spreading her legs wide. The hand-off is something to take note of - the coordination.  Soon you’re slapping your cock on her clit, making her body tense up. She doesn’t even blink when you slip inside. 

Her eyes go wide, and you swear you see sparks flying beneath them. 

“There’s that face,” Dahyun urges, holding your chest from the rear. A kiss to your neck, with a departing tongue. “She’s all yours.” 

Your hips move on their own, hands fast to the hourglass curve of her waist- her fucking hips. With every passing stroke it wriggles up to her tits in the same motion: down then up, up then down. A quick gaze to the action below and you can’t understand how well she’s meant for this kind of work. 

“This fucking cunt,” you grit, “My fucking god.” 

“No room for control.” Dahyun’s wrapped around your middle in quick succession. “The best girls like her are always meant to be bred. Pounding her pretty little fuckhole because she always has you coming back for more.” 

Minju’s arms are all over the place. First gripping the sheets, then covering her face - touching her hair. She’s so goddamn pretty and even more beautiful when completely fucked out - the pink now apparent in her cheeks with the lighting provided by the blistering moon through the windows. Her brows are creasing and the opposite, mouth canted and spilling in tongues. “Mmnh, fuck, you’re so good- so deep- ah-” 

You can’t help but be amazed you’ve got her to be like this in a short span of time. Legs open and letting your cock push and drag its way out. The shadow creating this mosaic on the wall - where all of your bodies are meshed into one. 

Somehow you manage to bring Minju closer, have her (somewhat long, lengthy) legs curl loosely around your thighs. Where the motion of your hips hit that same spot you discovered earlier unintentionally, bend the springs deep in the mattress where the frame is moving along with your thrusts. The harder you grip her waist, the louder the slaps are. You don’t even show a hint of worry when Minju goes limp in her arms, her back arching towards you, using the position to the fullest potential. 

Dahyun observes from above, smiles when you grab both of Minju’s wrists and she takes it upon herself to grab your necktie conveniently at the edge of the bed. You don’t even notice her tying it around her hands and putting them above her head, holding as you find the perfect angle and aim for the same spot to get her cumming in no time flat. 

“Thanks,” you’re panting out. 

“Breed my little girl again.” Dahyun says to you. And you feel it in the grip, that addicting clench - massaging your cock around her slick walls. “Hold her hands, her wrists, just make sure you empty every drop inside her.” 

“More, more,” the girl beneath you cries out. “Let me be good- milk your cock like she asked. I want it in my fucking pussy- you motherfucker, just do it already.” 

“You heard her, have Min min here take it,” Dahyun growls into your face. You don’t even yield to look for the assurance, because it’s drawn up in her mind. “I want her to have it in her fucking stomach.” 

Dahyun’s role in all of this isn’t common: to be the one calling the shots, but you’re welcoming it anyway with her at your side. 

As for Minju’s case: she’s been reduced to a river of breath, bent into hisses and hums from the soft flesh of her mouth and throat. 

Even when you want your mouth to comply with the demands, your body does the talking. Before it sets in: you seize the movements when the first rope of cum coats Minju’s walls; hell, you don’t keep track of the countless pulses of cum shooting inside her cunt, slamming your face onto hers and groaning so loudly she could choke on the sound alone. Her breathing shudders and you go with the slight tip of her head back, feeling every push of fresh cum inside to the point you fail to control it. 

Dahyun smiles in approval as you bring it upon yourself to keep thrusting, forcing every fiber in your body and using everything - even using a whimpering Minju at your hips - to make sure she wrings out all the bits of white from your cock. 

When you slow down, lightheaded and the scent of the room is full of sweat and sex, Minju’s swollen cunt keeps you grounded while she keeps your cock warm. “Good job,” you hear Dahyun whisper, and manages to get her slack lips onto yours, then leans over to show some love to Minju as well. “Well done, sweetie. We’re both proud of you.” 

You didn’t want this to end - and Minju makes it known with an unrestrained sigh when your cock finally leaves her properly fucked cunt. 

There she lays once the soreness sets in, cum leaking out and you hear Dahyun giggle when her pussy makes a subtle ‘pop’. You lift a brow in the bubble that forms in the mess, but they’re both looking at you- 

“What?” The two ask in unison. 

You shake your head, and smile. “Nothing,” you say. Which is the whole truth.

–

(Seconds before you doze off, you twist your head to them sitting up. Actually, Minju’s on her back still with an elbow for support. Dahyun’s hand is between her legs and scooping the lasting bits of cum from her pussy, licking it up and kissing Minju. 

You don’t bother asking about the debauchery happening across. Someday the inquiry will come from you, just not today.) 

–

“No.” 

“Yes.” Is what Minju says, but it’s not directed at you.  

“No way. No freaking way.” 

Minju’s sitting near the nightstand, in one of your shirts. Knees stacked elegantly as she maintains the professional mannerisms on the phone. You assume it’s her manager, but she ends the call on one hand and switches over to the hotel phone, resuming her conversation. “Yes I understand. By the way, can I order some room service?” 

Dahyun shuffles from the open balcony, welcoming in the morning breeze. Bathrobe coated around her figure and in the oversized slippers. Two small boxes are in her hands, and she meets you with the same eye smile she always flashes. 

You bite your knuckle as Minju’s nodding her head. Curious as to what was discussed. “Okay, we’ll come right down in fifteen minutes.” She hangs up the phone soon after. 

“Well?” You ask. 

“Believe it or not,” Minju starts, and she’s trying her best not to smile. “They want to see us in the lobby to talk about- last night.” 

Dahyun tips her head down with a grin and you’re arching your eyebrows in relief. “Thank god, I hope it wasn’t another noise complaint.” 

“Oh they mentioned that as well,” Minju says, killing your whole mood. 

“See? I told you,” Dahyun laughs, and it’s the kind where it’s cute and unbearably impossible to not go along with. There weren't plans in the schedule today, especially with Minju tagging along, so that alone could be drawn up as a free day. “How many complaints are we at now? Five? Six?” 

“Seven,” you deadpan. “What’s with the boxes in your hand?” 

“Pregnancy tests.” Dahyun answers. You look at Minju and all you see is her pursed lips with a thumbs up. 

Oh god, you’re mouthing to yourself. As if this new adventure didn’t have much to unravel - turns out you’re absolutely wrong. 

(When the two ask you ‘what’s the problem?’, they’re left puzzled with the facepalm you give. Little do they know about the smirk hidden behind your hand, and it goes to show that you’re just as sick and twisted like the both of them.) 

-

(a/n: one year of kooyabooya fics, and what better way to go back with the two that started it all <3)

[twice-inamillion]

Twice Series 

Promises and Flowers

Chapter 253

3,360 Words

(A small outing in the backyard between OC and Da-eun. OC comes to some realizations and decides to make some life choices. )

“Bomi, come, come.”

You walk behind Bomi and Da-eun as they make their way through the small path. They’ve been inseparable ever since Bomi joined the family and officially became Da-eun’s best friend. 

Recently, it has become a routine to go on a morning walk with the two of them these past few weeks. “Appa, tree, tree,” says Da-eun as she points at the tree next to the path. She waddles towards the tree and stops near a patch of flowers. She squats down and slowly starts picking them from the stem. 

“Pretty, pretty.”

”You like them?”

Da-eun nods, picking it up and giving it to you. She continues to provide you with the flowers until your hands are overflowing. “That’s a lot of flowers, Da-eun, you got there. What are you going to do with them?”

Da-eun looks at you and points at her head, “Here.” You look at her curiously, trying to figure out what she is trying to say. “Ohh, you want a crown.” She nods, grabs a flower, and places it on her head. 

“Okay. Let’s have a light snack in the meantime.” 

‘Snack.” 

The two of you sit on the thin blanket as you take out a bento box. You open it, and Da-eun slowly grabs the sliced fruit and begins eating it. “Don’t think I forgot about you, Bomi,” giving it a snack as well. 

The two of them eat while you quickly work on the crown. After a few minutes, you say, “Here you go. One for Da-eun and a small one for Bomi.” 

Da-eun smiles and hugs your leg, “Appa, hug.” You pick Da-eun up, “You look so pretty, Da-eun.” She smiles again and gives you a small kiss on the cheek.

”Da-eun! Appa is getting a kiss from Da-eun instead of mommy?”

 She nods, “Da like, Appa.”

——

You walk back home with Da-eun on your shoulders. When arriving at the house, the twins and Jisoo run and greet the two of you before picking up Domi and running away with it. 

You follow them to the back of the house, where Mina and Jihyo are talking amongst each other. You wave at them, “Morning.”

”Morning.”

Da-eun taps your head and says, “Eomma.”’

”Have you seen Dahyun around?”

Jihyo shakes her head, “No, I haven’t.”

”Hmm… I think I saw her walking down to the music room, but I’m not sure.”

”We’ll check it out. Da-eun wants to see her.”

”Good luck.”

With Da-eun still on your shoulders, you walk to the music room. You hear a soft hum as you walk down the road. “That’s one of the sounds that mommy sings to you for bedtime, right?”

”Yeah, eomma sing.”

You hum alongside Da-eun until you arrive at the set of detached buildings. “Let’s try to be quiet and surprise your mommy.” 

Da-eun nods, and you place her on the ground. The both of you quietly make your way to the entrance and open the door, going inside. You see Dahyun in the private room playing the piano. 

You watch and listen to Dahyun sing and play the piano through the large window. “Eomma sing, pretty.” 

”She does.”

”Want to sing alongside her?”

”Yeah!”

”Okay, let’s listen to her sing a bit more, and when I push the button you sing with mommy, okay?”

”Okay.”

The two of you continue to listen, waiting for an opportunity to hop in. When you reach the chorus part of the song, you press the button, letting Da-eun mumble to the song. 

Dahyun quickly turns her head around, surprised to hear Da-eun’s voice. She stares through the double-sided window and smiles, “Is that you, Da-eun?”

“Yeah!” 

Da-eun extends her arms, signaling you to let her down the chair. She waddles to the door and waits for her mom to open it. “Eomma!” She hugs her mother’s leg in excitement. 

“Does Da-eun want to sing with mommy?”

“Yeah.” 

She picks Da-eun up and places her on her lap. You sit beside them and ask, “What song does Da-eun want to play?”

“Sp…special.” 

Surprised, Dahyun asks, “You like that song?” 

“Yeah!” 

Dahyun smiles and nudges your arm, signaling you to play the piano. You start off with a slow melody and with Dahyun singing. 

Da-eun looks up as her mother sings. She tries to sing alongside her but mumbles most of the words. Every so often, you hear her yell, “Special!” 

You and Dahyun look at each other, trying to hold your laugh as De-eun does her best to sing along. After a few more songs, De-eun becomes exhausted and begins to yawn. 

Dahyun carries her in arms and places her on the couch outside the music room. “She must have been so tired.”

“She was, she walked a lot, even picked up some wildflowers.” 

“I’ve noticed she enjoys going outside and picking them from the garden. Even picks the rollie pollies off the dirt.”

You laugh, “She got that from you. I even saw her pick one up and show the members. You should have seen them scream and the little ones smiling at the sight of the members trying to get away.”

”Omg, really?”

”Yeah, I think they were watching Jisoo and the twins play outside, and out of nowhere, Da-eun comes out and sticks her hand out.”

”Haha.” Dahyun tries her best to hold her laughter, remembering the times she would tease the members during her earlier years. 

“She's just like you, Dahyun. I can’t even believe it.”

”Haha, no, she’s taken over the two of us.”

”I don’t know; she’s a mini version of you. Maybe if we had a boy, he would be more like me.”

Dahyun blushes, imagining herself having a baby boy. You watch her slight smile and say, “How about it? Do you want to give Da-eun a baby brother?”

Her ears turn completely red at your sudden comment, “I… I…” She smacks your arm, “We can’t…” She looks at Da-eun, who is sleeping comfortably.

You watch her look away and take the opportunity bring her close and aim for her neck. Dahyun moans to the feeling of your hot breath, “Ahh… oppa. We can’t…” You kiss her, slowly leaving your traces on her. 

Your right-hand makes its way up her blouse, removing her bra. Dahyun trembles to the touch of your hand cupping her breast. “O… oppa, not here… Da-eun is sleeping…”

You hear her heavy breathing as you continue to kiss and play with her breast. After a few minutes you pull away and see Dahyun’s flushed face. “Come here baby, sit on my lap.” 

She looks over to her side one more time before moving over onto your lap. Her heart beating faster as she faces you and looks into your eyes. You go in for another kiss but this time you undo her blouse, revealing her breast. 

“Ahh… ahh… oppa…” Dahyun moans as you work from her neck to her breast. “So hot…” You squeeze her breast, causing it to release a white liquid from her nipple. You raise your head, look back at Dahyun who is biting her lip and take her nipple into your mouth. 

Dahyun tries her best to hold her moan as you suckle on her breast. She feels your hot breath as you milk her, “Oppa… that milk is for Da-eun…” 

You let go of her nippple and say, “Our little girl has to learn how to share, it’s daddy’s turn to get a taste.” You attach yourself again, but this time lift her to get a better position. You feel Dahyun’s sweet milk flow from her nipple, down your throat, “You taste so good.” 

“Ahh…ahh…ahh!” Dahyun interlocks her fingers around the back of your head. She arches her back, allowing her moans to escape. You increase the pace of your sucking until Dahyun cries out loud, ��Ahh!”

Dahyun catches herself but it’s too late, a small yawn comes out from the corner of the room. “Eomma…” says Da-eun as she rubs her eyes. Dahyun hides herself from embarrassment, “Da-eun close your eyes!” 

She grabs her blouse and tries to fix herself before Da-eun opens her eyes again. You laugh at Dahyun’s embarrassment and comment, “Dahyun, don’t worry too much. It’s normal for parents to do these types of things.”

“It’s not. I don’t know what I was thinking, we shouldn’t be doing this, especially when Da-eun is around.”

”Don’t worry too much Da-eun’s a big girl now. She’ll learn that mom and daddy love each other. If anything she might want a baby brother or sister haha.” 

Dahyun looks at you and gives you a stare as Da-eun gets up and walks towards the two of you. “How are you Da-eun? Did you take a good nap?”

Da-eun rubs her eye and nods, “Eomma, hug” extending her arms. Dahyun picks her up and rests her head on her mother’s chest. She rests for a moment before turning her head towards you and saying, “Appa, Eomma, outside.”

The two of you laugh, “Okay, we can go outside.” You help Dahyun clean around the music room before exiting the building. 

The three of you walk down the path behind Daeun when suddenly she sees a colorful beetle fly past her. She yells, “Woah!” Daeun waddles towards the opposite direction of the path as she chases the beetle. It flies for a few moments, stops on top of a flower just enough for Da-eun to catch up, and flies again.

Da-hyun walks behind her, with you just a few feet away. You watch the two of them and see how much fun they are having. Dahyun catches up to Da-eun, pointing at the direction of the beetle. 

After a few minutes they arrive at a patch of flowers. Dahyun helps Da-eun look through the large cluster of flowers. You watch in amusement as Dahyun looks so determined to find the beetle for Dae-un. 

You chuckle at their determination and place your hand in your pockets to grab your phone to take a video. ”Eomma, where beatle?” Dahyun responds, “You need to look closer honey, and be quiet so it doesn’t fly away.”

The beatle slowly comes into view, causing Da-eun to smile. She turns to her mother and says, “Eomma, catch!” Dahyun extends her arm and slowly reaches for the beatle when it suddenly flies backwards, “Oppa, catch it please!” 

Dahyun turns around and continues to shout “Oppa, it's flying away!” You remain on one knee when Dahyun stands frozen, “Wha… what are you doing?” 

“Seeing you with our daughter made me realize that I want to cherish moments like this forever. I promised you that I would never let you go and I want to keep this promise in front of our daughter. With the ring that the two of us made together I want to ask you, Kim Da-hyun, if you'd like to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Dahyun remains in awe, frozen in place but see the tears building up. She recalls the hardships she’s had to endure such as the banishment from her family. It was one of the hardest moments of her life for someone who was so close to her family. It took a greater toll knowing the fact that she was young and pregnant out of wedlock. She knew you had eyes for Jihyo and expecting a child together which made her scared of her future and raise a child on her own. 

She also reminisced about the better moments between the two of you and the members. The birth of her daughter was the happiest moment of her life. When she held Da-eun in her arms she knew everything was going to be okay and even more with the support of the members but there was always that sense of fear. 

She would watch as you went from member to member, having your fun with them as she tried her best to raise Da-eun. She knew she could count on you to be there but would have the constant fear of being left alone. Having her church and family taken away she feared the eyes of the world judging her. 

Seeing you on your knees, asking her for marriage, she felt a sense of happiness and relief. She looked into your eyes and saw your honest intentions. With a smile she replied, “Yes, I want for the two of us to be together forever.”

You run up to Dahyun and pick her up, spinning her in the air. Da-eun looks at the two of you with amazement as she watches you spin her mother in the air. She extends her arm and says, “Da’s turn, Da’s turn!” 

Chuckling at Da-eun’s expression, the two of you pat Da-eun’s head. You place the flower ring on Dahyun’s finger. “Da-eun ask mommy if she likes the ring you help make.”

”Eomma? You like flower?”

”Yes, of course. I love the flower ring you and daddy helped make. I’m so happy with the work you did, it looks so pretty.” 

Da-eun smiles and giggles as you pick her up, spinning her in the air. She points at the beetle from before, “Bye beetle!”

————

Returning to the house Dahyun can’t avoid keeping a straight face. The members notice this quickly as she smiles when entering through the door. 

Jihyo quickly catches on as she looks at both of your expressions. She walks up to Dahyun and pulls her towards the couch where some of the other members were, “Such a happy face Dahyun.” She looks at Dahyun’s flower ring and says, “Cute. Wish he gave me something like that.” 

Dahyun smiles, not being able to contain her excitement. “Looks pretty right? Da-eun and oppa made it together.”

Sana, who was sitting across replied, “Aww, that’s cute.” Jihyo says, “It is. Gives it a lot of meaning.” She 

Momo who was sitting next to Sana grins and says, “Does that mean we can expect us not sleeping tonight? Haha.”

Dahyun’s face turns red, “Unnie!”

“Momo’s right. You should definitely reward him somehow. I have some sexy lingerie you can use if you want.” 

“I… I…”

“Momo, Sana, don’t tease Dahyun like that.” She looks at Dahyun and pats her head, “It’s okay” and gives her a hug. Jihyo then whispers in her ear, “If you need me to watch over Da-eun I’m free.” 

Some of the other members continued to talk to Dahyun and ask her what exactly happened and how she felt during the proposal. With much enthusiasm Dahyun describes the scene. 

——

After an eventful day you place your book on the nightstand and get ready to go to sleep by dimming the lights.

Suddenly, you hear knock on the door and respond, “come in.”

The door opens and you see Dahyun, slowly walking inside. “Did you need something, Dahyun?”

There’s no response as she closes the door. She slowly walks towards you and undoes her nightgown, revealing a cute baby pink set of lingerie. 

“What… what are you doing, Dahyun?”

“Celebrating…”

You watch as she comes closer and climbs onto your bed. You notice her ears red from the sense of nervousness and hesitation. 

Hovering on top, you notice her rozy pink areolas poking out from the semi transparent bra. “What do you think?”

“I love it.” 

Dahyun smiles and straggles onto your right leg, slowly riding it. “What brought this on?”

“Some of the unnies said I should treat you.” 

“Oh really?”

You grab her and quickly turn her over, pinning her against the bed. “What did they tell you to do? Something like this?”

Dahyun closes her eyes as you kiss her tummy. She whines, not being able to move as you keep her pinned down. “Is this what you had planned? Or was it this?”

You slowly move down to her lower region and move her panties to the side. Dahyun whines as you expose her pussy, “Beautiful… I can’t wait to eat you up.”

Dahyun’s eyes go wide as she feels your hot tongue tracing her lower lips. You slowly pull down her panties, exposing her whole lower region. As you spread her legs apart you continue to coat her pussy and hear Dahyun’s small moans.

Using your two fingers you rub her pussy in a circular motion. Dahyun moans increase as she feels her folds becoming hot from your movement. You increase the speed, hearing the sounds of her breathing and her wet pussy leaking its juices as lubrication. 

Midway, you stop and insert your index finger inside, fishing out a thick amount of nectar. You press your index and thumb together, showing Dahyun the thickness of her nectar, “Wow, Dahyun. You’re really wet down there. Let’s see how you taste.” 

“Oppa wait…” 

You hover above her lower region as you lick the nectar running downward. It’s a sweet taste from Dahyun, “You taste so good.” You go at it again but this time you go for the source. Dahyun moans loudly as you insert your tongue inside her, switching from eating her and sucking on her clit. 

Dahyun’s fingers are intertwined through the back of your hair and grabbing on as she tries to hold on. You lift your head, “You did such a good job baby. Just relax and I’ll take care of the rest. 

You throw your shorts on the floor and look at Dahyun as she stares at your nude body. Her ears are red and her face flushed as she watches your cock dangling. You grab your cock against smack it against her pelvis, before pressing it against her lips. 

Dahyun groans, feeling your cock spreading her lips apart and making its way through her walls. She extends her arms, inviting you for a kiss to which you response. 

“I love you Dahyun.”

”I love you too.”

The two of you continue to make out with Dahyun wrapping her arms around your neck. You slowly thrust your hips as she held you tightly, whispering in your ear to put your whole weight on her. 

Dahyun’s breathing was heavy as she felt your whole body on top of her. She felt safe, your warm embrace as the two of you continued to make out. 

The moment of your cock rubbing against her walls and the sight of leaving herself vulnerable to you was hot. “Dahyun… I don’t think I can hold on any longer.” 

“It’s okay, cum inside. I don’t want you to let me go.”

You could feel the sincerity in her voice as she begged you not to let go. You wrapped your arms around her, with the two of you in a lotus position. Dahyun placed her head on your shoulders, holding on tightly as you warned her of your impending orgasm. 

“I’m going to cum, Dahyun!”

”Ahh, ahh, Hmph!!”

Dahyun felt your hot cum work its way up through her walls, filling her up womb. “Oppa, it feels so hot…”

You hold her tightly as your cum settles down around your cock, you feel it covering your member. “Oppa, now it's my turn so lay down.”

Dahyun smiled as she pushed you down against the pillow and interlocked hands. She slowly began to ride you, moving her hips against your body. There were no words exchanged, only sounds of heavy breathing and her moans. 

You watched intensively as her body moved, the swaying of her hips, the bouncing of her tits. Eventually, she broke the silence and pressed her hands against your chest. You grabbed hips and as she continued to move, “People won’t believe you’re a mother if they saw you like this.” 

Dahyun quickly hid her face on your chest from embarrassment and said, “Don’t say that, you’re going to make me shy.”

”But I love when you’re shy, it makes you look cute.” 

“Go on, tell me why you think I’m cute.” 

“I love the way you smile, the way you act both in public and in private. You help others and give good advice. You’re the mother of my child and the mother many more. I love everything about you, Dahyun.”

Tears build up as she hears your words. You pull her in close, kissing her once more, embracing her.

[smutmind]

Hi! I don't know if you take direct requests but if you do... What about a Twice Chaeyoung and Dahyun gloryhole story? Kinda like experienced frequent client Chae guiding Dahyun on her first time there, helping her trust the process and press her holes on the wall to get fucked

The Wall ft. Twice Chaeyeong & Dahyun

GLORYHOLE THEMED REQUEST The practice room was silent except for the buzz of fluorescent lights and the soft tap of Dahyun’s fingers against her water bottle. Her hoodie clung to her damp shoulders, her breath still shallow from rehearsal. Everyone else had already gone home.

Except Chaeyoung.

"You ever wonder what it’d feel like to be nobody?" Chaeyoung asked, sprawled on the studio floor, arms tucked behind her head. "No cameras. No names. Just need and skin."

Dahyun blinked. Her gaze flicked to the mirror. She saw herself: idol-perfect. Controlled. Clean.

"Sometimes," she said softly. "Why?"

Chaeyoung sat up. Her eyes were sharp under her bleached fringe. "I go somewhere. You should come."

—

They entered through an alley door in a nameless building. No signs. Just a black light above the frame. Inside: dim corridors, thick with incense and velvet secrets.

Chaeyoung handed over two black cards at reception. The woman behind the desk gave Dahyun a once-over, smile edged with something knowing.

“She’s new?”

Chaeyoung nodded. “With me.”

The woman stamped Dahyun’s wrist with a faint violet symbol: a closed mouth and open hands. Consent. Silence. Surrender.

—

The hallway narrowed until it opened into a plush, red-lit room. Velvet curtains. Low voices. The scent of sweat and perfume.

At the far end stood The Wall.

It was matte black, wide as a stage set, with three oval openings at waist height—lined with soft silicone. Anonymous on both sides.

Dahyun’s steps slowed. “That’s it?”

Chaeyoung came behind her, voice low. “It’s freedom. You don’t have to perform. You just feel.”

Dahyun’s lips parted. She’d heard confessions all her life. Kneeling pews, whispered regrets. Her father’s sermons still rang in her ears: purity, obedience, righteousness. But this—this was something else.

“And if I freeze?” she asked.

“Then I’m right here.”

—

They slipped behind thick curtains. Private. Dim. A low stool in front of the wall, a small brass bar just above the floor. Dahyun stepped in, her heart thrashing.

Chaeyoung stayed close. “Take off everything.”

Her hands hesitated.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “If he knew—if God saw—”

Chaeyoung touched her elbow gently. “He sees you anyway. Might as well give him a show.”

A shiver ran down Dahyun’s spine. She peeled off her hoodie. Then her bra. Leggings. Panties. Naked, her skin flushed under red light. She felt watched, even in the dark.

“Kneel. Mouth first. You can always stop.”

The oval was waiting—dark inside. Then, slow as breath, flesh emerged. Thick. Alive.

Her knees hit the cushion. Her breath stuttered.

She closed her eyes. Opened her mouth.

Warmth. Pressure. Her tongue met salt. Her lips wrapped. The cock—hard and deliberate—filled her mouth inch by inch.

Shame bloomed hot across her cheeks. Pastor’s daughter. Choking on a stranger’s cock.

Her thighs clenched. Her throat opened.

“Good,” Chaeyoung murmured, voice silk behind her. “Just like that.”

She sucked—shaky at first, then steadier. Her saliva slicked the shaft. Her moans were wet and muffled.

The cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged. Her fingers curled against her thighs.

“Don’t fight it,” Chaeyoung whispered. “Take him like you’ve been starved.”

Tears spilled. She didn’t stop.

When the release came, it filled her mouth in waves—thick, warm. She swallowed instinctively. Shame licked her insides. She stayed still, lips pressed, breathing through her nose.

The cock withdrew. Silence followed. Her chest heaved.

Then—Chaeyoung’s hand, stroking her back.

“You’re still here,” she said gently. “Still whole.”

Dahyun blinked up at her, lips wet, heart hammering. “I don’t feel holy.”

Chaeyoung smiled faintly. “Holiness is overrated.”

—

She led her to the second opening—lower, angled. Dahyun’s thighs trembled.

“You ready to feel it? Really feel it?”

Dahyun nodded.

Chaeyoung raised her arms, slipping her wrists into velvet loops above. The stretch left her exposed. She gasped when the silicone touched her skin.

Then—it came. Pushing into her. Firm. Filling.

Her cry was raw. Not pain. Not guilt. Not yet. Just sensation.

Chaeyoung stayed behind her, hands ghosting along her ribs. “Breathe. Let it take you.”

Each thrust sent shudders up her spine. Her body melted into it. Her moans—loud now, broken—echoed in the curtained dark.

“My father preached restraint,” she gasped.

Chaeyoung kissed her shoulder. “And you gave it up. All of it.”

Her climax hit like a flood. She sobbed as she came, trembling and undone.

The cock pulled out. Warmth trickled down her thighs.

Chaeyoung unbound her, caught her before she collapsed.

Dahyun pressed her face into the crook of Chaeyoung’s neck. Her voice small.

“Am I still lovable?”

Chaeyoung kissed her temple. “Maybe. But tonight, you don’t need approval.”

Dahyun nodded slowly.

“I want more.”

Chaeyoung smiled.

“Then come find it.”

----- Let me know if this is good enough for you. Feel free to ask more.

[misswoozi]

IF Dahyun were to have caught Yeji, i think Yeji would be really embarrassed and try to apologize and leave but Dahyun would tell her to come in and close the door (keep in mind she hasnt stopped fucking Yuna during this). I think Dahyun would end up going full disciplinary dom and telling Yeji to watch and start masturbating as punishment, which Yeji finds incredibly hot. Yuna feels embarrassed at first since one of her members is the one watching her but the longer it goes the more it turns her on. So now were in a situation where Dahyun is essentially domming both of them, switching between praising Yuna telling her how good of a show she's putting on for Yeji, and degrading Yeji for being desperate enough to try and watch them and teasing her about how much she wants to be involved 🎮

[count-on-mi]

You are the SLUT of my eyes (Dahyun)

In mid 2024, the summer nights in Seoul were oppressively hot and humid. The crew of “You Are the Apple of My Eye” was filming at a high school. As night fell, the campus was dimly lit, with only the gym emitting sounds of depravity. The day’s filming had long ended, and most of the crew had left, but the gym had become a secret playground for Dahyun and the student actors, the air thick with the scent of sweat and lust.

Inside the gym, the mats had become a stage for debauchery. “Ah… ah… I can’t take it anymore… ahh…” Dahyun’s moans echoed intermittently, mixed with sobs, reverberating through the room. Her pale, naked body was sandwiched between two muscular men, one thick cock thrusting into her dripping pussy while another ravaged her tender asshole. The wet, squelching sounds of penetration mingled with the “slap, slap, slap” of flesh colliding, like the rhythm of churning mud.

Whenever her “ah…” cries turned sharp and high-pitched, as if echoing from the clouds, the “slap, slap” sounds of flesh slowed down, becoming crisp and forceful, each “slap” sounding like a whip cracking on livestock. But when the “slap, slap…” grew rapid and deep, Dahyun’s “ahhh… ahhh…” moans merged into a continuous stream, almost like a long, drawn-out “ah…”, while the “squelch, squelch…” of thrusting sounded like a steam locomotive running at full speed.

Through the crack in the door, only the three sets of hips could be seen moving rhythmically. Dahyun’s pussy and asshole were each stuffed with a thick cock, pounding relentlessly. Her lower body was a soaked mess, glistening with slick fluids mixed with white foam, as if coated in creamy frosting. As one thick cock drilled into her like a jackhammer, more white cum mixed with her juices was forced out of her pussy, dripping down her perineum to her asshole, where it was carried into the tight cavity by the other thrusting cock.

Dahyun’s plump, pale ass contrasted starkly with the two thick cocks pistoning in and out, a fierce battle of flesh unfolding. Her thick thighs quivered with each thrust, her fat ass jiggling with waves of flesh, perfectly showcasing her body’s suitability for doggy-style fucking. The two sweat-drenched, muscular men pounded her relentlessly, the “squelch, squelch…” growing stickier, like the sound of boots trudging through a muddy swamp.

“Ah… ahhh… ah…” Sandwiched between the two muscular men, Dahyun’s lewd moans rose and fell with the rhythm of their thrusts, filling the room. In the room, aside from the three entangled bodies on the mat, there were five other naked, muscular guys. Some smoked, others jerked off their dripping cocks, and a few chatted, laughing lewdly as they watched Dahyun being fucked. The floor was covered in puddles of unidentified fluids, the air reeking of piss, sweat, and smoke—a thoroughly depraved atmosphere.

“Ahh… I’m cumming… I’m cumming… ahhh… I’m going to die…” As the two sweat-soaked men continued their relentless assault, Dahyun let out cries of pain mixed with ecstasy. The surrounding guys gathered closer, their hard cocks in hand, staring at Dahyun’s lower body, stuffed with two massive cocks. Her moans grew sharper and louder, and her soaked pussy suddenly gushed a stream of clear fluid, like a small creek. The two men, as if spurred on, fucked her even harder, their cocks plunging into her as if into boiling water, splashing her juices everywhere. Finally, amidst her near-hysterical screams, a jet of clear piss shot from her urethra, splattering onto the stomach of the guy on top, trickling down to their sticky, conjoined bodies.

Her piss sprayed for over ten seconds, gradually diminishing, flowing down their joined bodies onto the mat below. The surrounding guys watched excitedly, one of them jerking off so hard that he shot streams of cum all over Dahyun’s face.

“This slut Dahyun has squirted three times today, fucking hell, she’s so depraved!”

“Yeah, every time she gets fucked, she pisses herself.”

“Heh, she looks so pure and innocent, but she’s a total whore deep down.”

“Damn, the first time I saw her, I almost came in my pants. You’d never guess she’s this slutty.”

“Fuck… we’ve been banging her for a month, and her pussy and asshole are still so tight. She’s born to be a whore.”

“She’s got the life of a bitch, haha… most prostitutes couldn’t handle this, but this bitch Dahyun comes back for more every day.”

“Worse than a bitch, fuck! I can’t take it anymore, hurry up, I need to fuck her again today.”

“Don’t rush, we’ve got plenty of time to play. I’m taking this slut’s asshole next, no one better steal it!”

As Dahyun reached her climax, the group of tall guys started chattering, shamelessly joking and laughing in front of her as she was fucked to the point of pissing herself, treating her like nothing more than a bitch with no dignity.

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Time Reverse

A few months earlier, inside a casting room in Seoul, the air was thick with the faint smell of tobacco. The curtains were drawn, and dim yellow light spilled across a wooden table, illuminating the director’s wrinkled face, brimming with lust. He leaned back in his leather chair, hands crossed, his hawk-like gaze fixed on Dahyun, a member of TWICE, sitting across from him. Her innocent aura contrasted sharply with her fiery body, making her presence in the cramped room all the more enticing. Petite in stature, she possessed a breathtaking hourglass figure, with a slender waist and plump, rounded hips forming a perfect ratio. Her thick, toned thighs exuded a deadly sensuality, as if she were born for doggy-style sex.

The summer heat in Seoul was stifling, and though the air conditioning was on in the casting room, the atmosphere still felt oppressively warm. The director’s eyes roamed over Dahyun’s body, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Miss Dahyun,” his voice was low, laced with a hint of probing, “You Are the Apple of My Eye” is a major production. The female lead needs to have… a special kind of charm. What do you think you have that can impress me?”

Dahyun smiled faintly, a glint of cunning flashing in her eyes. She knew this casting was never just about acting. She stood up, slowly walking toward the director, her skirt swaying with each step, accentuating her slender waist and plump ass. “I know what you want,” her voice was soft and seductive, tinged with provocation, “and I can give you… everything.”

The director’s lips curled into a lewd grin as he placed his hands on Dahyun’s slender waist, pulling her onto his lap. “Oh? Then you’ll need to prove your sincerity.” His hands roamed shamelessly to the insides of her thick thighs, his rough fingertips grazing her smooth skin, savoring the firm flesh. Dahyun didn’t resist; instead, she leaned closer, her red lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “As long as you give me this role, I’m willing to be the crew’s… cum dumpster. Anyone can play with me however they want.”

The director’s breathing quickened instantly, his cock swelling in his pants. He yanked open Dahyun’s top, revealing her perky, pale tits, the size of small melons, with pink nipples trembling in the air. “What a slut,” he growled, his hands roughly kneading her breasts. “Then let’s see what you’re capable of!” The casting room door was locked, and the atmosphere turned depraved in an instant.

Dahyun was pinned against the table, her short skirt flipped up to her waist, her panties torn off, exposing her pink, dripping pussy, already soaked with glistening juices that trickled down her thick thighs. “Ahh… Director… be gentle… ah…” Dahyun’s moans were broken, a mix of pain and excitement, echoing through the room. The director unbuckled his belt, pulling out a thick cock, its tip already leaking precum. Without mercy, he aimed his cock at Dahyun’s pussy and thrust hard, burying himself fully into her tight, wet hole.

With a “squelch,” her juices were forced out, dripping down her perineum onto the table. “So fucking tight,” the director growled through gritted teeth, grabbing her slender waist and starting to pound her furiously. “Slap, slap, slap…” The sound of flesh colliding was rapid and sharp, accompanied by the “squelch, squelch” of penetration, like the rhythm of churning mud.

Dahyun was fucked into a moaning mess, her breasts jiggling on the table, her nipples pinched red by the director’s rough fingers. “Ahh… so deep… Director… ahh… you’re fucking me to death… ah…” Her moans rose and fell, sometimes sharp and high like they came from the clouds, other times long and drawn-out like a sigh, utterly depraved.

The director’s thrusts grew more violent, each one making Dahyun’s pussy clench and release, her juices and white foam spilling from her hole, dripping down the table’s edge to the floor. “Slut, tell me, were you born to be fucked?” he demanded while pounding her, his palm slapping her plump, rounded ass with a crisp “slap,” the fat jiggling with waves of flesh, irresistibly enticing.

“Ahh… yes… I’m a slut born to be fucked… ah… Director… give me the role… I’ll let the whole crew fuck me… ahh…” Dahyun was fucked senseless, spewing lewd words just to please the director. Her pale little feet dangled off the table’s edge, swaying with each thrust, her toes curling, as delicate as white jade.

The director, driven wild by her sluttiness, flipped her over, making her lie face down on the table, her plump ass raised high, her thick thighs taut, presenting the perfect doggy-style position, as if she were made to be fucked hard. He spat on her pink asshole, then roughly probed it with his fingers, stirring it a few times before aiming his thick cock at the tight hole and thrusting in hard.

“Ahhh… it hurts… it hurts so much… ahh…” Dahyun’s screams rang out, but they soon turned into excited moans. “Ahh… Director… fuck my asshole… ahh… it feels so good…” “Squelch, squelch…” His cock slid in and out of her asshole, making sticky sounds, accompanied by the “slap, slap, slap” of her ass being pounded, the flesh jiggling with each impact.

The room’s depravity grew thicker. Dahyun’s asshole was fucked slightly open, fluids and juices dripping down her perineum to her pussy, leaving a wet mess. Her long hair was disheveled, sticking to her sweaty face, her large breasts squashed against the table, the flesh spilling out from the sides like soft dough.

“Ahh… I’m cumming… ahhh… I’m going to die… ah…” As the director continued his brutal assault, Dahyun’s moans grew sharper. Her pussy suddenly gushed a stream of clear fluid, like a small creek flowing onto the table, followed by a jet of piss shooting from her urethra, splattering onto the director’s pants and dripping down the table’s edge to the floor.

“Slut, you got fucked so hard you pissed yourself!” the director roared with excitement, pounding her asshole even harder. The piss sprayed for over ten seconds, gradually slowing, trickling down her thick thighs onto the table, forming a puddle that reeked of her scent.

The director, unable to hold back from the sight, pulled out his cock and forced Dahyun to the floor, making her kneel beneath his crotch. “Open your mouth, slut, drink my cum!” he ordered, jerking his cock. Dahyun obediently opened her mouth, sticking out her pink tongue, her eyes filled with lustful desire.

With a low growl, the director shot thick streams of cum, splattering her face, mouth, and even dripping down her pale breasts. She swallowed the cum without hesitation, using her fingers to scoop the cum from her face into her mouth, licking it clean. “Haha… you’re a fucking natural-born whore!” The director panted, slapping her cheek.

“I see your sincerity. The role is yours. But remember what you promised—everyone in the crew can play with you however they want!” Dahyun collapsed on the floor, her body sticky with sweat, juices, and cum, glistening under the light. She panted, a mix of satisfaction and ambition in her eyes. “Thank you, Director… I’ll make everyone happy…” Her voice was soft and seductive, laced with provocation.

The depravity of the casting room was only the beginning. A few days later, filming officially started, and Dahyun appeared on set as the female lead. Her innocent appearance and fiery figure set the blood of all the student actors racing, her petite frame exuding a deadly sensuality with her slender waist and plump, rounded hips forming a perfect ratio, paired with her thick, toned thighs in the school unifrom, making it impossible not to fantasize about her body. But no one knew she had already promised a more debased deal on the director’s bed. As night fell and the filming ended, the gym became her secret playground. The student actors took turns, treating her as a tool for their lust, satisfying her body and ambition through rough gangbangs.

On the first day of filming, after it ended, the director led Dahyun to the gym, where seven muscular student actors were already waiting. Their eyes burned with desire, their cocks twitching eagerly in their pants. “Dahyun,” the director said with a wicked grin, “it’s time to fulfill what you promised.”

Dahyun didn’t hesitate; instead, she took the initiative to strip off her clothes, revealing her pale, naked body as she lay on the thick mat. Her hourglass figure was fully exposed, her slender waist and plump hips forming an enticing curve, her thick thighs slightly parted, radiating endless temptation. “Come on, oppa,” her voice dripped with seduction, “play with me however you want.”

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Original Timeline

“Slap, slap, slap…” “Squelch, squelch…” The two sweat-drenched guys continued their rapid thrusts, Dahyun reduced to heavy panting after her climax, her legs hanging limply in the arms of the guy on top, swaying with each thrust, her pale little feet as delicate as white jade.

“Ahhh… ahhh…” As the guy on top gave his final, powerful thrusts, Dahyun let out delirious moans. On his last deep thrust into her pussy, she let out a long, low “umm…”, her toes curling tight. The guy on top tensed his body, pressing down on her, his balls contracting and releasing, finally relaxing after a dozen pulses. The guy below continued relentlessly fucking her asshole.

Half a minute later, the guy on top pulled out his dripping cock, coated in sticky fluids, a drop of cum hanging from the tip. Her pussy remained slightly open, the lips soft and splayed, her clit exposed, and as her pussy pulsed, cum mixed with her juices flowed out. The guy on top stood up, and Dahyun’s legs fell limply to her sides. Before she could catch her breath, a short-haired muscular guy climbed onto her, lifting her legs and shoving his thick cock into her cum-dripping pussy, fucking her rapidly.

“Ahhh…” Dahyun’s moans resumed. Her breasts, like small melons coated in sticky fluids, stood firm, large yet proportionate to her body, exuding a seductive allure. Lying on her back, her large breasts obscured her face, with only her long, dark hair spilling messily around her shoulders. “Dahyun, come lick oppa’s cock clean,” said the guy who had just cum in her pussy.

Though she had been fucked by seven muscular guys all evening, Dahyun’s pink pussy still dripped with juices. “Ahh… mm… mm…” Her mouth was stuffed with a cock, her moans turning into muffled “mm, mm…” sounds in her throat. “Hehe… Dahyun, you’ve been playing all evening, you must be thirsty. Look at how your juices keep flowing—aren’t you dehydrated? Come, oppa will give you some water, open your mouth wide,” said the guy kneeling beside her, who had just cum.

Soon, the sound of liquid pouring into a bottle could be heard, rising and falling, accompanied by gulping noises as if someone were swallowing heavily, until the stream finally dwindled and stopped. Dahyun drank the guy’s piss as if it were the sweetest nectar.

“Hehe…”

“Haha…” During the piss-drinking, the guys laughed mockingly.

“Little slut, do your fans know how slutty you are?”

“If they knew how depraved she is, they’d probably die of shock!”

“Maybe not, she might just be a natural-born slut, begging her fans to gangbang her.”

“Hehe… her fans treat her like a goddess, probably thinking she’s pure and innocent.”

“Haha… they’d never imagine their precious Dahyun gets her pussy and asshole fucked and pissed on every day!”

The guys burst into laughter. “Slap, slap, slap, slap…” “Squelch, squelch…” Even as she was pissed on and mocked, Dahyun’s sticky, wet lower body was still being pounded by the two muscular guys. Piss, juices, cum, and sweat mingled at her holes, splattered by the thrusting cocks, her depraved lower body enough to make even the impotent hard.

The guy fucking her asshole couldn’t hold back any longer, thrusting hard a few more times before shooting his load into her tight hole. “Fuck, that felt so good, this slut’s asshole is so tight, even better than her pussy! Come on, next guy, I’ll rest and fuck her again later.” He pulled out his half-soft cock, cum dripping from her gaping asshole like a small black hole, trickling onto his tip and down his balls, thick like molten lava, hanging on the verge of breaking.

The guy fucking her pussy lifted her off the mat and walked toward a recliner, thrusting as he moved, the sticky cum from her asshole dripping onto the floor. He sat down on the recliner, lying back, his hands gripping Dahyun’s large breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips, while Dahyun moaned incessantly, “Ahh… ah…”

Now facing the door sideways, if anyone opened it, they’d see her pale, fiery body riding a muscular guy’s cock, her dripping pussy sliding up and down on it. Her petite frame exuded a deadly allure, her pale skin glistening with sweat, beads rolling down her cheeks, a few drops of cum sliding from her lips and hair. Her face was half-hidden by her disheveled hair, wet strands sticking to her cheeks, her large breasts bouncing in the guy’s hands like water-filled balloons.

Her slender waist twisted like a snake, her plump ass and thick thighs moving up and down, perfectly showcasing her suitability for riding, making anyone fantasize about her riding them to climax. Dahyun’s fat ass moved like a motor, riding the thick cock, slamming down hard each time the tip nearly slipped out, swallowing the entire length. Her asshole, recently gaped into a black hole, had closed up, though a few drops of fluid still leaked out.

“Slap, slap…” The sound of her pussy being fucked was continuous. “Ahh… fuck Dahyun… fuck me to death… ahh…” Dahyun’s wanton cries echoed through the room. Two guys nearby approached, their dripping cocks in hand, rubbing the tips on her face. Dahyun, as if seeing candy, grabbed a cock in each hand, stroking them, taking turns sucking and licking each one, not even sparing their balls.

Another guy joined, shoving his thick cock into her asshole, adjusting for a moment before grabbing her plump ass and fucking her hard, her flesh jiggling with each thrust, perfectly showing off her doggy-style allure. Every hole on Dahyun’s body was filled with cock, writhing and moaning like a depraved slut, reveling in the gangbang.

“Slap, slap, slap…” The sound of her ass being pounded, “squelch, squelch…” of cocks thrusting, Dahyun’s excited moans, the guys’ mocking laughter, and the heavy panting of those fucking her hard all blended into a symphony of lust. The sweat-soaked guys kept fucking her, switching out twice, leaving her asshole and pussy gaping, unable to close.

Each thrust forced out more juices and cum, dripping down the cocks to the floor. After Dahyun was fucked to the point of screaming and pissing again, the floor was covered in a puddle of her musky fluids. “Hehe, Dahyun, are you hungry?” asked a guy on the recliner, thrusting into her pussy with his glistening cock, grinning.

“Ah… mm… mm, so hungry… fucked so hard by oppa’s big cocks… I’m starving, ah… ahhh… I want… I want a cream hotdog, ah… ahh… oppa, be gentle, ahh…” Dahyun was fucked to the point of exhaustion, lying limply on the guy, her large breasts squashed into flat pancakes, the flesh spilling out where her body met his chest, swaying with each thrust, her breasts circling in place like deflated tires supporting her pale body.

“Haha… this little slut wants a cream hotdog, then beg us for it,” the guy fucking her asshole sneered. “Ahh… please… please, oppa, give this little slut… ah… something to eat… ah… a cream hotdog… ahh… this little slut is so hungry… ahhh… please… big cock oppa… ah…” “Slap…” The guy fucking her asshole smacked her fat ass hard, sending waves of flesh rippling.

“What a fucking slut, she’s addicted to it. Guys, let’s call it a night after feeding this whore, haha, save some energy to fuck her again tomorrow.” “Haha…” The guys laughed. The two guys thrust hard for a few more minutes, both shooting their loads into her body. When they pulled out, one guy grabbed two long slices of bread, pressing them against her pussy and asshole, rubbing them to coat the bread with the cum and juices flowing out.

Another guy took two thumb-thick sausages, shoving them into her pussy and asshole for a moment before pulling them out and sandwiching them between the bread slices. “Here, Dahyun, your hot cream hotdog is ready, come eat,” he said. “Hehe…” “Haha…” The guys laughed derisively.

Dahyun sat up, her pale skin glistening with sweat, juices, piss, and cum, shining under the light, her hair sticking to her face in strands, her breasts trembling. She took the “cream hotdog,” biting off a large piece, chewing as if it were a delicacy, and finally licking the cum from her fingers and lips into her mouth.

The guys watched her finish, laughing. “I’m so thirsty… oppa… Dahyun is so thirsty,” she said, batting her eyes at them, acting coy. The guys knew she wanted to drink their piss, and three of them immediately brought their cocks to her mouth, spraying piss before she could say more.

Dahyun swallowed eagerly, but the volume was too much, and much of it spilled from her lips, dripping down her breasts and onto her dripping lower body, finally pooling into the puddle of fluids on the floor.

“Haha, slut… a whore fucked by thousands, ridden by millions, so shameless.���

“Hehe… if she weren’t this slutty, we wouldn’t have anything to play with.”

“She calls herself a member of TWICE, just a shameless nympho.”

“Worse than a prostitute, loves eating cum and drinking piss.” “Exactly, even prostitutes wouldn’t drink piss, but this slut begs for it, so shameless.” “Look at her, so cheap, we say this to her face, and she’s dripping again.” “Haha…” “Little slut Dahyun, is your asshole itching again?”

“Even if it is, too bad. We’re exhausted tonight, come back tomorrow, hehe… we’ll rest up and fuck you again.”

“Haha… going back with a belly full of cum, it’d be a miracle if no one notices.”

“Meh, who cares, it’s not our problem. Even if she’s stuffed with cum, her fans won’t know.” “Hehe…”

[jjjjisun]

Magic Remote (Part 1)

Dahyun x Male OC | 7281 words

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Part 1 / Part 2

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As Jae walked out the door, he glanced at his older sister, leaning over the kitchen counter and reading her magazine. He thought his friends were right - she was a knockout. It was hard to admit that about her when she acted like such a bitch around him all the time, he wanted nothing to do with giving her any praise. But the truth remained, her luscious dark brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and below that a slim waist that led down to her graspable butt made her sexy simply from behind.

But that wasn't all, her perky overflowing breasts that he had seen many times in her various seductive bras as she walked nonchalantly around the house were a constant draw on him, he wished he could just pause time for a second and have his way with them; he'd take handfuls of her beautiful chest, easily a 36C, and at LEAST see what they felt like. He'd do much more to her than that; she was easily the sexiest girl he knew... if only they weren't brother and sister.

Ningning was no more than 5'3" and 120 lbs, dripping wet, like the times Jae saw her in that tight rope-mesh bikini that barely contained her gorgeous breasts and showed off the body that she'd sculpted from years of yoga, running, and her pure vanity. Yet every time his eyes were filled with glimpses of Ningning walking down the hall in a pair of pajama pants and a tiny bra, or less, it seemed she'd be waiting for him to look - and she'd yell out:

"See something you like, ya little perv," or "You wish! I bet my bra's the only one you'll ever see!"

And yet, any time he and Ningning were alone in the house, it seemed he'd always 'accidentally' catch her in various states of undress. Whether her bedroom door was open or she was undressing at the perfect angle to the bathroom mirror for Jae to have his world rocked as he breezed through the hall. Though if he were to challenge her, she'd undoubtedly have his head. Something about how Ningning was always on him seemed to have the opposite effect. However, he often found that when he and his sister were apart, he grew to miss their little day-to-day battling and, of course, the glimpses of her tanned and toned perfection. That didn't mean, however, that there weren't times when Ningning could be downright nasty. If she felt particularly off on a given day, she'd cause all hell with Jae and his parents or find ways to mess his life up in any way possible. She'd even smack him or pinch him hard enough to cause some actual pain when she felt up to it, and it was all Jae could do not to let her have it, maybe even dish out some payback for her little teasing episodes.

And the funny thing was that Jae was far from incapable of defending himself. At 6'0" and 200 lbs.. he was certainly a guy people didn't casually mess with. 'Why did he put up with it?' he frequently asked himself. Jae had been protecting and sticking up for Ningning for years, even smacking a few guys around that he thought deserved it for wronging his big sister. Despite that, Jae thought, Ningning constantly patronized him in front of her friends or teased him in a skimpy little outfit, only to chastise him seconds later. He was no dummy; she did it intentionally, probably getting a little rush from it herself, and he knew it. But as of yet, he'd never done more than accidentally bump her with his crotch as he passed her in the laundry room or walk in on her after a shower, barely covered in a towel with the side of her breast clumsily covered. And she certainly had gone no further herself. However, Jae believed she was constantly pushing the envelope, wearing skimpier outfits and sexifying even as simple a task as emptying the dishwasher or watching TV.

Only a few days earlier, while Jae was watching some crappy television on a weekday morning, Ningning had come strolling in wearing that could hardly be classified as clothing. It was a cotton shirt she had cut herself that just nearly went to the bottom of her breasts. As he drank a glass of cold orange juice that morning he almost spit it out as she plopped down on the couch, her tits shaking at the motion. Of course Ningning had no interest in watching Jae's television choices so she bitched at him to give up the remote. When that didn't work she lounged out on the couch, sprawling and completely distracting Jae with the smooth curves of her criminally seductive body. Even worse was that after a few minutes of her lounging on the couch, it had risen so that the bottom of her breasts was revealed. Jae couldn't help but stare; he barely even noticed what was flashing across the television screen, apparently his program had ended, and a history program had taken its place. He was far from seeing the television, though, as he took in a sight he couldn't believe. As his stiff rod started poking through the thin shorts he was wearing he covered his lap with a pillow. Sure enough, not a minute later, Ningning asked to borrow that very pillow despite the others strewn about the room.

"Can't you get another one?" he said back, attempting to sound natural.

"I don't feel like getting up, come on, you're not using it for anything, right?" Ningning shot back at him, ending the sentence in a snarky way that told him she knew what her little display was doing to him.

When he handed it to her, he could see that she had glanced at his crotch, and she even failed to hold back a little smile as she saw his huge tent. Jae couldn't stand being there with her anymore, and as he left to go take a cold shower, Ningning shouted after him,

"What's the matter, little bro, don't you like watching TV with me?"

He could see her from the stairs deliberately pressing her breasts together, showing the underboob even more to the point that if he wasn't mistaken he could make out a nipple beginning to make its way under the hem of shirt. She had won this little battle, and now not only succeeded in gaining control of the remote but in causing her brother an erection that wouldn't be going away any time soon.

Nevertheless, the two got along surprisingly well at times; Jae found he had an uncanny ability to make her laugh and show off her full, stunning smile. They often played each other in basketball, golf or anything they could compete in. At times, Jae almost thought things couldn't be better, but then one of her friends would come around, and God forbid it was a guy because Ningning would want nothing to do with Jae but to mock him or ignore him in front of her friends. It seemed to drive her crazy that a few of her friends and even one of her best college roommates, Melanie, took a liking to Jae. And that was the way things went, Jae and Ningning getting along at times and Jae putting up with Ningning's crap in between, never failing to notice every day when he saw her for the first time that she was an absolute 10 out of 10.

So, as Jae closed the door behind him, he did as he normally did and just shut her out. There was no point in thinking about her if nothing would ever come of it. Hell, in the end, she was his sister, and though Jae's 18-year-old body reacted to being within 100 feet of any good-looking female, he knew his boundaries. Besides, despite her teasing, he did just fine with girls. He'd even had sex a few times, though if he was sincere, none of them had quite the firm abdomen, softly tanned skin, cute face, or the extent of any of Ningning's genetic make-up. If she wasn't wicked smart, too, he was sure she'd have gone into modeling.

Walking down the street, Jae considered meeting his buddy Jinwoo at the mall, where they'd hopefully catch a movie with any of their young female friends. Ningning was too cool for the mall and was planning on staying home to work on her tan by the pool and read a novel: topless, of course, since she was alone. Though Jae didn't know that little detail, going to the mall may have become an afterthought. When Jae finally got to the mall about ten minutes later, he walked in the doors and pulled out his phone as the cool air-conditioning hit him like a wave of relief. By now, beads of sweat would be forming on his sister's smooth skin, and her breasts would be sticking up to the sky proudly the way most girls wish theirs did. He smirked and shook the thought out of his head - what had gotten into him today? It was probably that damn shirt she was wearing, revealing her belly button and clinging tightly to her upper body, the little flap where she cut her tank top along the neck hanging atop one of her breasts; as if any more cleavage was necessary, he thought. Or maybe it was the tiny cotton shorts, or... he cut himself off and focused instead on getting Jinwoo on the phone.

"Hello," Jinwoo answered groggily.

Jae knew instantly that Jinwoo had just rolled out of bed.

"What the hell, Jinwoo, we are supposed to meet at the mall today!" Jae practically shouted into the phone.

"No way, man," he protested. We specifically said Saturday, and you are a day early."

It dawned on Jae that Jinwoo may have been right. He sometimes did things like this—mixing up the day of the week and all. It was hard to keep track of them when every day before he started his summer job was as hot as the next, and they all sort of melded together. Whatever, Jae thought, and hung up with Jinwoo after agreeing to see him there the next day. Jinwoo laughed lightly at him and suggested he have a nice time alone at the mall.

"So, what should I do?" Jae thought as he scanned the area. He browsed a few stores but quickly realized that the mall was not the attraction for guys like Jae. He'd only been there to mess around with friends. So when his eyes locked onto the small store next to the men's suit store with the simple sign that said Gadget and Things, he figured he'd check it out and then head home.

The store wasn't exactly what he'd expected. Sure, it had a nice selection of cell-phone cases, all the latest handhelds and accessories, but it had a certain flair that drew him in deeper. Passed all the consumer brands and shiny, new products, there was a U-shaped display full of things Jae could not place. The few patrons of the store lingered only a moment or two before another took their place, or they purchased their things and moved on. The only person working the store he could see was a strong-featured man with a discerning look, worn with age. He nodded to Jae as he rang up a customer, and Jae looked closer at the cases. There was certainly something special about each one of the items, from the camera lenses with after-market dials and switches to the tablet devices that each resembled one of the year's hot-ticket items but also had some sort of attachment or modification. The environment was not like shops you might wander into in New York City with advertisements for every deal under the sun and not a stitch of glass showing through the blanket of cheap electronics. No, each item was thoughtfully placed with a simple placard that explained the modification and the, sometimes, extremely high prices.

Being a computer buff, Jae found each item more interesting than the next. The tablet he was looking at had been modified to create three-dimensional scans of its environment and calculate area, volume, humidity, air quality, and makeup. The handheld gadget arranged on a miniature putting green tracked the included golf ball, found it within inches, and calculated spin, velocity, and errors in the user's golf swing, all in one device no larger than a cell phone.

Having rung up the last customer in the store, the old man wandered towards Jae.

"I see you've found the good stuff, hardly anybody stops to look for real value anymore," he said as he glanced toward all the inferior products at the front of the store, "but I've got to sell it if I want to keep tinkering, my true passion."

Somehow, Jae didn't believe that this man was paying for all of the gadgetry displayed in front of him with the proceeds from a ten-dollar phone case the woman in the floral shirt had just purchased for her whiny teenager. But a softness and wisdom in the man's voice made him want to hear more.

"I can hardly believe all of this. Did you make it all yourself?" Jae questioned.

"Sure did!" the old man proudly replied. Of course, I have a few friends who consistently help me out in implementing my designs, but the vast majority was made by yours truly."

"And does it all work the way these descriptions say?" Jae asked again, doubtfully.

Rather than say another word, the old man pulled out what looked like a child's toy in the shape of a robot that Jae had been looking down at. He had seen things like it at the Sharper Image or one of those luxury stores where you sat in a massage chair before you left and bought nothing. Expecting it to dance as the old man pressed its power button, Jae could not believe his eyes as the tiny machine turned toward its master and mimicked his posture and the old man's chin stroking with his left hand. Then he spoke to it:

"How are you doing, robot?"

Jae anticipated the tiny mechanical man would repeat the phrase in a classic computerized voice, but nearly choked when it responded in a human-like voice,

"Just fine, Jim, how are you today?

"Thanks for asking," he responded, getting a kick out of Jae's bewildered look. I'm having a great time talking to my young friend..." He looked to Jae for his name.

"A..Jae," he sputtered out.

Then, the robot pivoted on its hips toward Jae and greeted him as well. After about five minutes of bantering back and forth with the robot, Jae eventually regained speech and asked it questions about the weather or even about the personality traits of the current president. Anything they asked of it, the robot had a decent answer for. But there was no question that this dark little store had more than met the eye, and Jae might have been the first to see its true wonders.

"Do you believe me now?" the old man asked unassumingly.

"Are you kidding," Jae said in amazement, "I could be here all damn day."

The old man, whom the Robot had called Jim, laughed at Jae's response, and they launched into discussions about everything in the store and just about anything else. Jae couldn't get enough conversation with the man, who seemed as interested in Jae as he was in Jim's abilities. They stopped just long enough for Jim to ring up a few customers or answer their shallow questions about the best phone case or newest point-and-shoot digital camera. Not one of them stopped for more than a second when the robot Jim had left to stand on the counter followed them with its LED eyes and said "Hi," while waving with at them with its robotic arm.

At lunch Jim closed up the store and they sat together at a local hot-dog stand putting away two ketchup-slathered dogs and a ice-cold soda each before returning to the store. When they walked back in, Jim said he had something to show Jae and to make sure the sign remained turned to "closed" for a minute. Jim went into the back while Jae played with the robot, or 'AInstein,' as Jim had coined him. After a minute or two, Jim reemerged carrying a wooden box with beautiful carvings in a band around its sides. Atop it was a complex, built-in combination lock and fingerprint scanner. Jim proceeded to unlock the box and take out its contents, but Jim's torso blocked Jae's view as he did so.

"You know," he paused as he said this, "every fiber of my being is telling me to toss this thing into the deepest, darkest ocean and never show it to anyone again..."

Jae was drooling in anticipation.

"But I've never been one to follow my instincts, so check this out."

Jim leaned over the display with a thin electronic device, clearly a touch-screen, about the size of a 8.5" by 11" sheet of paper folded in half. It had a metal armband attached to it that appeared to stretch to accommodate its user.

"So, without going into too many specifics, I'll just tell you that this is a universal remote," Jim said matter-of-factly. "I came across the most important piece when I was learning from a mentor many years ago and I may or may not have been snooping in his basement. He didn't know it at the time, but he had come across something well beyond either of our understandings...well, let me just show you."

Jim pressed the device's singular physical button, a power button, and it sprang to life. It seemed to function much like any other contemporary touch-screen device, but if Jae had learned anything in his time with Jim today, it was that nothing in this store was ordinary. So when Jim pointed the device at one of his display cases and all of the devices turned on immediately upon touching a button, Jae was hardly surprised.

"Cool," he said with a bit less enthusiasm than he had approached Jim's other inventions, which Jim sensed.

"Just wait, Jae. Don't give up on me yet," Jim said.

Next he walked toward the simple display racks in the front of the store and typed something, pressed another button on the screen, and all three display cases, which Jae would never had guessed were motorized began to spin around. 'Something strange is going on,' Jae's mind told him, but knowing Jim, the cases could have easily been rigged already. Then Jim did something Jae didn't expect, he quickly typed something into the device and pointed it toward a pretty young girl peering into the store to see what was inside. As soon as he did so, the girl seemed to forget what she was doing and walk in, looking a bit confused after she had taken a few steps inside.

"Hello there," the robot said from behind them.

"Hello," said the young girl through slightly squinted eyes, intrigued by what she perceived to be a cute little toy.

But before she could figure everything out, Jim had already typed something else into the remote, or at least that's what Jim had called it. As soon as Jim spoke out to her: "what is your name," the girl seemed to be at full attention to Jim.

"Dahyun," she responded quite casually,

"And how old are you, Dahyun?" Jim asked her,

"I'm nineteen, who are you exactly?"

"I'm Jim, Dahyun, and this is my friend Jae," he said glancing back at Jae.

"Hi Jae, Hi Jim," Dahyun said with a smile.

"What do you think of my friend Jae here, Dahyun?" Jim questioned her. Jae was beginning to understand what was going on, although he was having trouble believing it. How could he possibly...what kind of remote was.... His thoughts were interrupted by Dahyun's response.

"He's cute, I like his eyes, and he's got a good body. I can't stand when guys where cargo shorts like that though, and he could kinda use a haircut."

Jae was taken aback by her bluntness, though she was right on both accounts. He was almost glad he hadn't met up with his friends today. He simply hadn't had any other shorts to wear but these huge-pocket cargos from when he was probably still in high school.

"Well, thanks for that Dahyun, although I'm afraid you may have bruised Jae's ego a bit" Jim spoke kindly to her as she cocked her hips to the side and smiled apologetically, "Would you want to spend a little time with Jae today if you're free."

"Yes, I totally would. I gotta go tell that bitch Katherine that I'm done watching her try on clothes that are too small for her, though. Meet you outside in five, Jae?" She seemed totally natural, and Jae nearly forgot that this was clearly brought on by Jim's remote.

"Um...o...okay," Jae said, still reeling from his thoughts, and he could barely respond.

"He'll be there," said Jim confidently.

As Dahyun scurried out the door, Jae realized what a cutie she really was. He looked forward to spending a little time with her, like Jim had suggested, but he still had so many questions. Even more surprising was when Jae looked back to find Jim with his hand extended and the device held out to him.

"What, no way, I can't afford that." Jae managed

"I'm giving it to you, Jae, but you'll have to listen to me first."

Jae nodded in agreement.

"First, understand this is a device beyond anything you have ever seen, experienced, or heard of. It works just as you saw, but it has limitations. Like any other device, the device has a power source, and the harder you make it work, the faster it will run out of juice. Even I can't make it last forever so you had better be careful. Take Dahyun, for example, she was willing to come in here and even more willing to be honest, as I had the remote instruct her. When I suggested she spend a little time with you, my friend, it barely took a percent. You can imagine if I asked her to do something she didn't want to do, it would take quite a bit more, despite being immoral and wrong."

Jae observed a small grin on Jim's face. He had ventured down that route before.

"Second, if you get carried away with this thing, there is no telling where it might take you. You seem to have a good head on those shoulders, and I hope I can trust you not to try and take over the world or something, not that I'd be able to stop you. Just... be smart, and have fun with it. I've not taken that baby out for many years now because I decided I'd had enough, and you'll be surprised how quickly things can get out of hand, and you want to chuck it in the river too. By the way, it's waterproof."

Jae smiled at this and looked down at the remote. He was still in disbelief that Jim had really decided he'd give it to him.

"Third, and most importantly, I am giving this to you on good faith that you will stop by here once a week and keep me company. It's not too often that I run into someone your age that I can relate to."

With that, Jim shook Jae's hand and patted him on the back, nudging him toward the door and sultry little Dahyun waiting beyond.

Jae had almost no time to think or act; he slipped the remote into his pocket and headed out the door. Glancing back, he saw Jim and AInstein waving him goodbye, and looking ahead, he saw a smiling Dahyun standing up for her perch on the bench. He took her in: she was in a sexy little skirt and a plain white shirt with two buttons at the neck and a pocket that could probably hold no more than a ring or two upon her breast. Her breasts were not quite the size of his sister's back home, but who was he to complain? However, her slightly freckled skin seemed to make up for it, and he loved the proportions of her tiny body; he thought she couldn't be more than five and a half feet tall. She was not quite his sister, but she was damn close.

His sister, a little spark, flew into his head, and his mind quickly jumped at the thought that the remote would work on her. Jim didn't give him enough information, barely any, and he couldn't think about that now. Instead, he turned to Dahyun and smiled at her, thinking he was lucky to be strolling through the mall with such a pretty girl. Dahyun suggested getting Jae some new shorts, and he readily agreed. Walking through one of the stores, Dahyun told Jae that it had been a long day, and though the banter they shared was causing them both to like each other more, Jae was afraid that Dahyun was thinking less about having a good time and more about how she needed to get home and get off her feet. He decided he would give the remote its first test.

It was a simple enough device. He saw a keyboard, a blank space to type, and a button on the screen to initiate the command. As Dahyun scanned a few piles of clothes nearby, he typed, [feel less tired] into the screen. After processing the command, the remote rendered a bar he figured was meant to control the intensity, and the gray button turned green. He set the bar to the lowest intensity and pressed the green button, aiming the remote at Dahyun's way. Nothing seemed to happen, so he turned up the intensity. This time, when he pressed the button, he could see that Dahyun's slightly slouched posture began to lift, but she still didn't have the smile on her face that had so charmed him when she walked in the store so Jae moved the slider just a bit more and when he entered it, this time he knew he had done so correctly. His heart began to race as he started to understand how much power he held. Dahyun now bounced from style to style of shorts with a smile, her soft brunette hair falling from her slightly messy hairdo. She returned and wrapped an arm around Jae's, showing him a pair of shorts she had decided were just right.

He said he needed to try them on, and they both walked toward the fitting rooms in the back. Dahyun hung back; as Jae walked in and saw that the stalls could comfortably fit them both, he suggested she come in to ensure they met her approval. Dahyun hadn't given her response when the attendant told them they couldn't go in together. Another opportunity to test out the device. [Let her come in], he entered the device and pressed green. The device interpreted this command as either a yes or a no and didn't provide an intensity. He noticed two things then: one, that neither Dahyun nor the overweight attendant seemed to pay any mind to the device he had on his wrist; and two, the battery dropped about 7% when he overrode the woman's decision the way he had.

"Go on then," she said to Dahyun, and she hurried after Jae without thinking twice. When they got inside, Jae began to take off his shorts, and having Dahyun so close by in his state of undress was having an effect on him he hoped wouldn't send her reeling in disgust. As a tent began to rise in his boxers, Dahyun took notice and though she smiled, she looked down at her feet and shuffled them a bit. Jae decided to try to type [don't worry] into the device, but it kicked it back, saying that the command was unrecognized. 'Too general,' he thought. After pausing a few seconds, he tried to type in [initiate kissing], which brought up another intensity bar. He slid it only a quarter of the way. The normally green button remained red. He slid the bar forward to about 40%, and still it remained red. When it took sliding the bar past 50% to turn green, he realized he was going about it incorrectly.

Meanwhile, Dahyun maintained a smile and even caught his eye a few times. He could tell that the look on her face meant she was thinking of doing something naughty, but his personality dictated that it would remain only a thought.

Guided by her look and what he perceived as simple reservations, he typed [Inhibitions] into the device. Again, his heart began to race as it took the device a bit longer to decide what to do with the new command. Then, up came a bar already adjusted and was fluttering a bit in its position. The device could also allow him to tamper with specific feelings and force some upon others. The bar was at a surprisingly low one-half, but Jae figured that was exactly what was standing in his way of messing around with Dahyun like he wanted. Sure, he could do it the old-fashioned way, but he wanted to test out his new device, his new superpower. He moved the inhibitions to zero, and the device lost most of its remaining power when he pushed the green button.

This transition was much clearer than the others. Dahyun looked up almost immediately at Jae and had more than admiration in her eyes; it was lust. Given some time and more flirting, she would probably have given in to Jae's desires anyway, but he could tell now that Dahyun was full steam ahead and wanting him badly. She stood up and approached him slowly, backing him against one of the walls and looking from his lips to his eyes and then down at the tent in his underwear poking her just below her belly button which was now pressed gently against him. Looking back up at him, she nearly lunged forward to meet his lips.

Her soft pink lips were every bit as inviting as he had hoped, and it wasn't long before her tongue darted out to taste him. He put his hand on her neck, and she slipped both of hers under the hem of his shirt, feeling upward toward his chest as she pushed against him. She certainly wasn't taking her time with this.

"Oh my God, I don't know what's gotten into me, I'm usually not like this," protested Dahyun, barely removing her lips from his long enough to say it.

"I know what I want to get into you," Jae said with a grin. He normally would never use a cheesy line like that, but something told him that Dahyun was far from exchanging pleasantries.

"Is it... this?" she whispered in his ear as one of her hands wrapped around his cock with only the cotton of the boxers in between.

Jae decided to see more of the pretty little brunette, so he quickly reached for her shirt. No sooner was he pulling it over her head than she was unbuttoning the skirt she had on below it. After she pushed it down to her feet, Jae took her in. She was short and thin, a tossable little minx he could not wait to get inside. To speed the process, he knelt and kissed her thigh and then took her panties in his teeth, a soft black number that he would have spent more time appreciating if they weren't in quite a setting, and he lowered them some of the way, eliciting a giggle that made him shiver in appreciation. When he returned to her top he palmed both of her tits over a matching black bra and she stood on her toes against the wall. She quickly undressed him and began to stroke his cock.

He was practically rock hard anyway as she worked his hand over his shaft, and they locked lips again in another needy kiss. They heard voices nearby, and another couple was trying on clothes a few stalls away. They probably had listened to the soft moans that both Jae and Dahyun had involuntarily been releasing as they engaged in their desperately lustful foreplay. Now that Dahyun's inhibitions were done away with, and Jae, ever the hormonal male he was, they were both primed and ready for what came next.

Dahyun slid down to her knees and looked up, deep into Jae's wide eyes. She was gorgeous, and he couldn't believe such a beautiful girl was about to blow him in a department store fitting room. And that was just what she did. First, she flicked her tongue out to meet the tip of his sizable cock. It glistened with pre-cum from Dahyun's earlier ministrations, and her hand was still firmly holding him at the base. The feeling of her tongue caused Jae to roll his eyes so that he missed Dahyun first popping the entire head of his cock beyond her lips. He reached down then, pushing her hair behind her ear in a loving way that made Dahyun only want to please him more.

She flashed her tongue all around his tip, wetting it and causing him to squirm with pleasure. Then she pulled her mouth off entirely and pursed her lips with his cock right against them. Looking up at him, not breaking eye contact, she began to push his cock into her mouth slowly, inch by inch. He could feel her tongue slide along the bottom side of his shaft as her wet, warm mouth plunged further down his hardness. By the time he was almost entirely engulfed, he could feel the back of her throat; she still looked up at him almost defiantly.

Jae was lost in her abilities as she began now to retract her mouth from the base of his cock and then push back down. All the while her tongue worked this way and that, causing unbelievable pleasure that he'd never before experienced. Her inhibitions had been getting in the way of her cock-sucking abilities because Dahyun was surprised herself by the way she was pleasing her new lover. Her adorable little hands were not idle either; one held him firmly at the base while the other gently massaged his balls. Bobbing her head up and down, Dahyun's saliva lubricated his pole for each stroke in and out of her wanting mouth.

From both desire not to cum just yet and a longing to return something for Dahyun's unbelievable talent, Jae took Dahyun's chin in his hand and brought her back up to stand before him. First, he kissed her again, gently prying at her lips thanking her for the unbelievable sensations he'd just experienced. Then he slowly walked her backward, still lip-locked, as he sat her behind the bench. He worked his way downward to kiss her cheek, then pecked at her earlobe. He kissed her neck, and he could tell that she wanted him to hurry by the desperate pants into his ear. So he hurried down, stopping quickly to admire her breasts, still covered in a bra due to their haste, and then he reached his target. He pecked around her sweet slit and looked up at her as she had. She widened her eyes and raised her eye brows, demanding him to quit fucking around. So he did just that, he immediately sucked her clit into his mouth and watched as she gasped, reacting to the sudden flood of feeling.

This not being his first rodeo, he went expertly about licking her swollen lips and then urging his tongue further between them. She tasted sweet, and even sweeter were the soft moans of enjoyment he was eliciting from the charming mouth that had just been wrapped around his member. Now plunging his tongue deeper, he could tell that he was attending her just right, and Dahyun's running of her hands through his hair only further proved that. He worked a finger, and then a second into her as he continued his tongue's assault on her pussy. He was enjoying himself due to the squirms and sounds he was causing her to release. He would have continued, but Dahyun was in as much of a rush to go further as she'd been from the beginning.

Dahyun pulled him to his feet and got to hers as well, one hand pawing at his chest and the other reaching down to grasp his manhood once more. Finding him still rock solid as when she had sprung his cock from her mouth, she once again grinned up at him and pulled him close to her, pinning her against the wall. Jae couldn't wait for what came next.

She wasted no time; staring into his eyes as she had before; Dahyun directed the head of Jae's cock to her slick opening and he began to push inside smoothly. Her eyes read the almost painful satisfaction she was experiencing as her quim wrapped around each intruding inch. Of course, she was tight, he thought, his luck had been so on today anyway, but wow, did it feel unfathomably good on his aching member.

"We have to be quiet," Dahyun said, betraying herself in that moment with an audible coo of pleasure.

"God, you feel so good, so tight...." Jae trailed off and breathed heavily as he slid out of Dahyun and slowly back in.

"Don't...talk, just fuck me. God, just fuck me." She was just barely stringing words together now as Jae penetrated her, and she felt herself being lifted off the ground. With Dahyun held up against the wall, Jae reached around and palmed each of her buttocks, feeling her soft skin and her sizable behind in his grasp as he continued to plunge inside of her. First Dahyun reached down and undid the clasp of her bra and shouldered it off so her tits could hang free. Then she wrapped her arms around Jae's neck to help support her so Jae could admire her chest with a free hand. He quickly moved his palm to her breast, and they kissed again as he felt her inside and out.

She tapped his shoulder after a few minutes or so of their fitful tryst to tell him to let her down to the ground. As she touched down, his cock now buried to the hilt in her wet, warm sheath, she pushed him down to the seat immediately behind him and began to gyrate on top of him. Jae's back was now propped up against the wall, and without Dahyun's weight to support, he left his hands free to roam all over her. And that they did, feeling the gentle curve of her back, the smooth gap between her breasts and the sensitive clit that brought on a sudden gasp and a moan from Dahyun as soon a she pressured it.

In only a few moments, they both began to feel their climaxes approach. Dahyun was pining for release and began to moan louder and hump against him harder. It was all he could do to concentrate on guiding her with his hands while dealing with his torrent of bliss. Their ascending volume had not gone unnoticed, and Jae realized that his remote had slipped below 5% power. The attendant had returned as the remote seemed to be losing its grip on her.

"What is going on in there?" she demanded, knocking on the door.

Though he had used the device on Dahyun as well, she was too far gone and ultimately fully willing to continue fucking Jae's brains out and chasing her impending orgasm. [go away] he typed and entered at the attendant as he could barely even focus on the device with the little brunette bouncing on his shaft in front of him.

It seemed the device had one last command left, and he watched its screen turn black. He hoped to God it had worked, which it must have because they were not interrupted after he returned his attention to Dahyun, still grinding hard on his cock. They kissed a final time, and then Dahyun let out a much louder moan as she began to convulse in orgasm. Knowing that her partner was as close to cumming as she was, Dahyun managed to get out in a breathy phrase:

"Inside."

It was all Jae could do to wait for permission, and when she finally gave it, Jae began to fire into her repeatedly. She was still heaving strongly as waves of orgasm overtook her and she felt his hot cum inside of her, filling her up and so adding the pressure his large cock had created in her pussy that it was almost too much. She put her weight onto his shoulders and moved with the rest of her energy only at the hips, still milking him for all he was worth. Her deft movements were as impressive as her beautiful orgasmic glow when they finally slowed to a halt and looked each other in the eyes.

They did not exchange words because they both knew they had gotten exactly what they needed, even if Dahyun needed a little push in the right direction, Jae thought. Still, Jae looked up at her and said,

"You were wonderful," with a gleam of appreciation for the gift she had given him.

"Thank you," she said, surprisingly bashfully considering the state she was now in: naked, filled with Jae's cum her outfit strewn across the compartment. "You were not so bad yourself."

As they gathered themselves and began to redress, Jae found himself grabbing her here and there and exchanging a kiss or two against her unconcealed smiles of joy. Hand in hand, they departed the fitting rooms, and Jae bought the shorts Dahyun had picked out for him - he knew they would fit before they had even gone into the room. On their way out, the attendant shot them a glance of disapproval, Jae knew not how much she was aware of and how much the remote had caused her to ignore.

The couple stayed together a little while longer, basking in each other's presence before Dahyun informed Jae that she needed to go home; her parents would be expecting her. Jae held her hand until she broke his grasp, and she walked away, leaving him with her number on a slip of paper and a promise to see him again at the same time next week, if not sooner.

As Jae looked down at the remote, now completely discharged, he knew that his life had been changed forever. The sheer infiniteness of its capabilities nearly brought him to his knees; he would have to get home and charge it as soon as possible. Then a thought occurred to him: Dahyun was undoubtedly one of the best girls he'd ever had the pleasure of being with, but something else awaited him at home. He nearly ran the rest of the distance to the house in all his excitement.

There, floating on a raft in the pool, was his drop-dead gorgeous sister, Ningning.

[usedpidemo]

Brand new day (Twice Sana & Dahyun)

23.5k words

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The air in the JYP practice room hangs thick and used. It smells like stale sweat, the sharp tang of disinfectant trying and failing to win, and of faint, hot ozone smell from overworked electronics. The polished floor reflects the harsh overhead lights and nine exhausted figures slumped against mirrored walls. It’s Stray Kids, weeks away from their official debut—at least on reality TV. 

Limbs tremble. Chests heave. Hyunjin massages a vicious cramp in his calf, his face tight. Felix leans heavily against Changbin, his usual sunshine dimmed to a faint, flickering glow. Chan, ever the anchor, runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair, his eyes scanning invisible footage, dissecting every misstep, every beat slightly off from their brutal evaluation session.

"Alright," Chan rasps, his inflection rough as sandpaper. "Good effort today. Brutal, but good." He points toward Minho. "We tighten the transition into the second chorus. Minho, your pivot felt late."

Too spent for words, Minho just grunts. 

Silence stretches, thick and heavy, broken only by the group’s ragged breathing. It’s the moment. The awful, suffocating moment you’ve carried for weeks, pressing down like the humid Seoul heat outside. It claws its way up your throat, bitter and sharp. The words drop like stones into the stagnant air. 

Now. 

"I’m quitting."

The ragged breathing stops. A bomb detonates in the stillness. 

Felix’s head snaps up. Changbin stops mid-sip, water bottle hovering halfway to his lips. Hyunjin’s hands freeze on his leg. Seungmin’s analytical gaze locks onto you, sharp and questioning. Jisung’s jaw drops. Jeongin blinks, wide-eyed, uncomprehending. Minho slowly pushes himself upright. Chan doesn’t flinch, doesn’t gasp. His eyes narrow, the exhaustion vanishing, replaced by a terrifying, laser-focused intensity. He takes a single step towards you, the squeak of his sneaker impossibly loud on the polished floor.

"What did you just say?"

You force yourself to meet his gaze. The weight of everyone’s judgment feels gargantuan. 

"I said I’m quitting. Dropping out. Before the reveal." 

The stunned silence shatters like glass.

"Quitting?" Changbin explodes, surging to his feet, fatigue instantaneously disappearing. The water bottle clatters forgotten. Disbelief and betrayal fuel his words. "Are you insane? Weeks away! After everything? The hell is wrong with you?" 

Hyunjin scrambles up beside him, his expressive face tight with confusion and dawning hurt. "Hyung, this isn’t funny. What are you talking about?"

Felix looks devastated, his deep cadence now sounding unusually small. "But—we're a team. Stray Kids. All of us."

Questions overlap, sharp as shrapnel.

"Did something happen?"

"Did the evaluation go that bad?"

"Is it pressure? We can help!"

"You can’t just leave!"

Chan holds up a hand. The room falls silent again, tension crackling through the place like static electricity. He takes another step closer. Not shouting. Worse. It’s low and controlled, vibrating with a fury simmering beneath the leader’s calm. 

"Explain. Right now. Because this?" His gesture is sharp, encompassing the room, the years of grueling training, the imminent debut they’ve bled for. "This isn’t just about you. You don’t get to just quit because you're tired, or scared, or had a bad day." His eyes bore into yours, searching for weakness, for the selfishness he thinks he sees. "You owe us that much. An explanation for this—this selfishness."

His accusation, the emphasis on selfishness, hits harder than any vocal coach’s criticism. It echoes the doubt gnawing at your own insides. You flinch. You see the flicker of confusion in Chan's eyes—he sees the flinch, but not the defiance he expected. He sees exhaustion deeper than practice, pain unrelated to sore muscles.

Your shoulders slump. The weight you’ve carried alone, the secret festering in the dark corners of your mind while you smiled through practice—it all crashes down. Your eyes drop to your worn sneakers, the laces frayed from countless hours in this room. The sterile image of a hospital floods your senses, replacing sweat and floor polish.

"My brother," you mutter. The word hangs heavy, thick with brotherly dread. You force your head up, meeting Chan's gaze again. His rigid anger falters, replaced by wary confusion. "My younger brother. He's—he's sick. Really sick." 

Your voice cracks. "They called me earlier. Today. After evaluation." 

You swallow hard. The memory of your father's voice, thick with a fear you've never heard before, scrapes your nerves. "He's been in the hospital. For weeks. They—they didn't want to tell me. Didn't want to distract me." A bitter, hollow laugh escapes your throat. "Distract me."

Utter, deafening silence. Even the hum of the air conditioning seems to fade. All eyes lock on you, their anger replaced by dawning horror.

"They thought it was just a bad flu at first. Then it wasn't." The words come out flat, mechanical, like reciting a terrible script. "His fever won't break. His lungs—they're struggling. The bills—" You shake your head, the sheer, suffocating weight pressing down. "My parents—they're trying. Selling things. Borrowing. But it just keeps growing. It won’t stop.”

You look around at the faces of your team—your brothers in everything but blood. Sudden realization replaces anger on Changbin’s face. Empathy floods Felix’s eyes. Protective concern hardening Hyunjin’s jaw. Jisung covers his mouth. Minho looks stricken. Seungmin’s analytical gaze fills with painful comprehension. Jeongin looks like he might cry. 

"And I'm here," you continue, the guilt and weight of responsibility spilling over. "I'm here, dancing, singing, worrying about hitting a note or nailing a step, while he's fighting just to breathe. While my parents are drowning." 

Your voice rises, trembling. "How can I stand on stage? How can I smile for the cameras? How can I chase this dream when my family is breaking apart? I don't deserve it. I haven't earned the right. Not now." You rake a hand through your hair, unable to face them any further. "That's why—why I've been off. Why the energy's gone. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you. I just—I couldn't find the words. Didn't want to burden you."

The silence that follows is profound and heavy. Saturated with newly-shared pain. Chan’s rigid posture dissolves. The fury is gone, replaced by deep, aching sorrow. He takes the final step, closing the distance. Not to confront, but to connect. His hand reaches out, hesitates, then lands firmly on your shoulder. 

It’s not the grip of a leader. It's a friend’s. An anchor.

"Oh, man," he breathes, anger suddenly gone, leaving only compassion. His despair thickens. "Why—why didn't you say something?"

Before you can answer, Changbin moves. He steps forward to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, almost crushing hug. 

Right there, everything shatters. 

A sob escapes you, muffled against his shoulder. Hyunjin is there, adding his weight, his hand gripping your arm. Then Felix presses in, his smaller frame radiating warmth. The others soon converge into a wave of silent, overwhelming support. 

Arms encircle you; heads press close. A tangle of limbs, shared breath, and tears you can no longer hold back. Chan’s hand remains on your shoulder, grounding you within their rigid, unconditional solidarity. The weight in your heart doesn’t lift, but for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel like you're carrying it alone.

The practice room door swings open with a cheerful squeak, shattering the tear-stained silence.

"Delivery service!" Sana’s bright, melodic timbre rings out, instantly followed by the rustle of plastic bags and soft footsteps. "We brought fuel for the warriors! Who's ready for—" Her words trail off as she takes in the unusual scene.

The other Twice members stand framed in the doorway, laden with takeout and drinks. Jihyo leads, her confident expression morphing into wide-eyed surprise. Nayeon peers over her shoulder, eyebrows arched high. Momo tilts her head, confused. Tzuyu blinks slowly. Mina’s gaze softens instantly. Chaeyoung nudges Jeongyeon, who frowns. Sana, holding a bag aloft, freezes mid-step, her infectious smile vanishing in real-time, replaced by pure bewilderment. Beside her, Dahyun’s sharp eyes scan the huddled mass of Stray Kids, lingering on your tear-streaked face pressed against Changbin’s shoulder, then flick to Chan’s hand on your arm, to the emotions etched on every face.

Jihyo recovers first, gentle and cautious. "Whoa. Did—did we interrupt something? Bad time?" She lowers her bags slowly.

The Stray Kids huddle loosens slightly, but the protective circle around you remains. Chan clears his throat, roughed up with tears. "No, it's—it's okay. Just—some heavy news."

Still holding you, Changbin shifts. "His brother," he states simply, "Really sick. Hospital. Terrible."

The explanation ripples through the Twice members. Concern overrides confusion. Nayeon’s playful energy vanishes. Momo’s expression turns serious. Mina takes a small step forward, eyes filled with quiet empathy.

You pull back slightly from Changbin, wiping your face roughly with your sleeve. Feeling exposed under nine more pairs of eyes. You take a shaky breath. "Yeah. My little brother. He's—been in the hospital. Weeks. It's—not good. The bills—it's a lot." You swallow, every word sounding more repulsive. "I just—I told the guys—I need to quit. Go home. Be with my family. I can't—I can't do this right now. It wouldn't be fair. To them. Or to Stray Kids."

A soft murmur of sympathy runs through them. Jihyo nods slowly, understanding. Nayeon bites her lip. Momo whispers something, her expression pained.

Sana moves first. She carefully places the bag down and walks towards the group, her bubbly energy replaced by profound, gentle solemnity. She stops close, large, expressive eyes fixed on yours, shimmering with unshed tears. 

"Your little brother—that's—" She shakes her head, unable to find the word, devastation clear. "I'm so, so sorry."

Her sincerity is a warm balm on a raw wound.

Dahyun steps up beside Sana, quieter but intensely present. Her sharp, observant gaze holds yours, cutting through the haze of your grief. She doesn’t offer platitudes. "That's—incredibly heavy," she states, devoid of her usual wit. "Family comes first. Always." 

There's quiet strength in her conviction. Then, something softer, more personal, crosses her features. "We're—really going to miss you around here, you know?" 

The admission is quiet, almost shy, but lands with surprising weight. It’s not just about a trainee; it’s about the person they’d come to know.

Jihyo steps forward, placing a comforting hand on Sana’s shoulder. "They're right," she says, firm yet kind. "Your family needs you. That's where you belong right now." She offers a small, encouraging smile. "Be strong for them. And for yourself."

"Yeah, kick that illness's butt for your brother! We’ll be rooting for him!" Nayeon adds, her cheerfulness is genuine, if a little misaligned. Mina nods silently, her gentle eyes radiating support.

The combined empathy, from both your brothers-in-arms and the seniors you admired, is overwhelming. Beyond measure. The Stray Kids group hug tightens again briefly, a final show of unified strength.

Chan finally speaks, thick but resolute. "Don't you dare apologize for wanting to be with your family. That's not selfishness. That's—that's love." He meets your weary eyes. "We'll hold it down here. Go. Be where you need to be."

As the hug dissolves, Sana reaches out. Her hand finds yours, giving it a quick, firm squeeze. Her touch is warm, grounding. "Be strong," she whispers. Dahyun offers a small, solemn nod beside her, her dark eyes holding yours for a second longer. 

The unspoken ‘We'll miss you’ hangs thick in the air. 

—————

The wind bites. Always does up here, even in late spring. It whips across the hillside like a restless spirit, tugging at your worn flannel shirt, carrying the scent of damp earth, animal dung, and wild thyme. 

Eight years. Eight years since you left Seoul’s neon haze, the mirrored practice rooms of sweat and desperation. The crushing weight of a dream deferred not for failure, but for family. Now, your kingdom is this: a thousand shades of green rolling towards a misty horizon, the plaintive bleating of sheep, and the low, contented rumble of the dairy herd grazing further down the slope.

Your brother wrestles with Bessie. Or rather, Bessie—a placid, hulking Friesian with eyes like chocolate marbles—tolerates his attempts to coax her away from a particularly lush patch of clover crowding the fence line. He’s sixteen now, all limbs and earnest clumsiness, the traces of his childhood illness lingering only in the slight, almost imperceptible fragility around his eyes, the way he sometimes gets winded quicker than he should. 

He’s healthy, though. Vibrantly, stubbornly alive. That’s the miracle you tend every day, more precious than any debut stage.

"Come on, Bessie," he pleads, pushing uselessly against her broad flank. "The good grass is over there. See? By the water trough?" 

Bessie swings her massive head, regarding him with bovine indifference before tearing another mouthful of tasty green.

You lean on the weathered fence post. A little smile plays on your lips. "Try the magic word."

He shoots you a withering look, the kind only a teenager can muster. "She doesn't speak English, big bro. Or Korean. Just—cow."

"Try 'please.’ Universal language." 

You push off the post, your boots sinking slightly into the soft, rain-damp earth. The reflex—the one that makes you scan for the wobble before the fall, the tremor before the shout—it’s ingrained now, deeper than any dance move ever was. You catch it: your brother, frustrated, plants his feet wrong on the uneven ground as he gives Bessie a firmer shove. His boot slips on a slick patch of mud hidden beneath the clover.

"Whoa!" His arms pinwheel: a comical, slow-motion ballet of impending disaster. Startled, Bessie finally shifts—but away from him, her heavy hoof coming down perilously close to his sprawled leg.

You’re moving before the gasp fully leaves his lips. Not the flashy acrobatics of another life, but the efficient, grounded motion of someone who knows this land and its animals. Two long strides, a firm hand grabbing the back of his jacket, hauling him upright and clear right as Bessie’s hoof squelches into the mud where his ankle had been.

He stumbles against you, breathless, face flushed with adrenaline and embarrassment. "S-sorry, brother. Didn't see the mud."

"Neither did Bessie," you grunt, steadying him. Your heart hammers against your ribs with that old, unwelcome thrum of responsibility. "Alright, move her properly. Shoulders against her shoulder, not her ribs. Steady pressure. She’ll follow." 

You demonstrate, guiding his hands, feeling the immense, warm bulk of the cow yield under your combined, gentle insistence. 

The clover is abandoned. The water trough is reached. A small victory on a windswept hill. 

It’s the Parker luck in play: saving the day, getting mud on your jeans, no applause or recognition given.

—————

The drive back to the cottage is a bumpy affair along the rutted track cutting through the endless grassy plains. Sheep scatter like grey clouds before the battered SUV. Your brother chatters beside you, retelling the Bessie incident with increasing dramatic flair, his earlier clumsiness forgotten in the glow of near-miss heroics. You half-listen, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the open window frame, whistling the radio’s tune. 

The air here is clean, vast, scoured free of the cloying exhaust and frantic energy of city life. It smells of sun-warmed grass, distant pine, and the faint, mineral tang of the stream cutting through the lower pastures. Disconnected. Safe. A world away from everything that came before. You breathe it in, trying to let the wide sky push the lingering image of polished practice room floors from your mind. 

Eight years is a lifetime. Almost.

The cottage emerges from the landscape like a stone itself: low, sturdy, smoke curling lazily from its chimney. Home. Scents of roasting chicken and herbs hit you before you even kill the engine, warm and welcoming, weaving through the crisp air.

Lunch is a noisy, affectionate affair around the scarred wooden table. Your mother fusses, piling your plate high. Your father recounts the morning’s minor dramas with the tractor. Your brother, mouth full, mimes his epic struggle with Bessie, earning indulgent laughter. Sunlight streams through the small kitchen window, catching dust motes dancing in the air. It’s simple. It’s good. It’s everything you ripped your old life apart for.

Your father clears his throat, reaching for the chipped ceramic jug of water. "Had a bit of an odd post this morning," he says, pouring slowly. "Foreign. Fancy envelope. Addressed to you."

You pause, a forkful of chicken halfway to your mouth. A post for you. Odd indeed. Here, it’s rare. Bills, farm suppliers, that’s it. "Foreign?"

"Mm-hmm." He takes a sip of water. "Looked official. Had a name on it—" He frowns, scratching his temple. "J.Y. something? Park? Looked like one of those investment scams, you know? Promising millions if you just send them your bank details first. Nearly tossed it in the burner." He chuckles: a dry, warm sound. "Your mother said hold on, it might be important. Wasn't heavy. No gold bars inside, eh?"

JYP.

The name hits you like a wicked blow, low and sudden in the gut. The taste of chicken turns to live coal in your mouth. The warm kitchen seems to tilt slightly. The laughter, the sunlight, the scent of herbs—it all recedes, muffled, replaced by the phantom echo of a metronome clicking in a sterile room, reeking of disinfectant and teenage ambition, and the crushing weight of a phone call received in a JYP hallway eight years ago. 

Your fingers tighten around the fork. JYP. The letters you wrote, painstakingly, hopefully, for years after leaving—2020, maybe 2021—bleeding your confusion and lingering grief onto paper, sent into a void that barely whispered back. Silence, mostly. A few brief, polite responses that felt like formalities, the distance widening with each unanswered letter until you finally stopped sending them. Gave up hoping. Blocked it out. Buried that part of your life deep beneath cattle shit and rolling green hills.

"It's—it's not a scam, dad," you manage, sounding strangely calm despite the tremor in your hands. You set the fork down carefully. "It's—the company. From before. In Korea. The one I trained with."

The table falls quiet. Your brother stops miming. Your mother's eyes, ever perceptive, fix on your face, filled with quiet concern. Your father nods slowly, understanding dawning. 

"Ah. That lot. Them singers." He pushes his chair back. "Well, it's on the sideboard. Didn't look like it would explode." 

He gives you a brief, reassuring pat on the shoulder as he gets up, heading towards the small sideboard near the door.

You don't taste the rest of your lunch. You force it down, mechanically, while the conversation cautiously resumes around you, skirting the sudden tension. The envelope sits on the sideboard like a warrant. A grenade with a JYP logo.

—————

The stairs to your small room under the eaves creak their familiar protest under your weight. The envelope feels unnaturally heavy in your hand, the thick, expensive paper stock alien against your calloused fingertips. You close the door, the solid wood a flimsy barrier against the past flooding back. Dust motes shimmer in the single shaft of afternoon light cutting through the small window, illuminating the simple bed, the worn desk, the shelves holding farming manuals and a few well-thumbed novels. 

No trainee manuals. No dance shoes. No posters of idols. Just the smell of old wood, sun-warmed plaster, and the faint, ever-present scent of grass carried on the breeze.

You sit on the edge of the bed, the springs groaning softly. The return address is unmistakable: JYP Entertainment, Seoul. Your name, written in neat, unfamiliar handwriting. European postmarks layered over Korean ones. It feels like a message from another planet. Or a ghost.

With fingers that feel thick and clumsy, you tear open the flap. Not a bill. Not a scam offer. A folded sheet of thick, cream-colored paper, and nestled within it, four smaller, glossy rectangles. Tickets.

Your eyes scan the handwritten note first. The script is neat, precise, familiar in a way that twists something deep inside you.

Hey Mate,

Long time. Seriously long. Hope this finds you well, wherever you are. We were sorting tour logistics for the European leg (crazy, right?) and your name came up. Chan-hyung remembered you mentioned moving your family somewhere out there for your brother's recovery after—everything. Took some digging (blame Minho, he’s weirdly good at that stuff), but we figured out the rough area.

We’re playing a show in Zürich next month (attached dates/location – hope it’s not too far!). Feels like a lifetime ago, that practice room. Remembering the chaos, the laughs—and how you walked away for the right reasons. Always respected that. We talk about it sometimes, how brave that was.

Just wanted you to know we remember you. Hope life’s treating you kindly. Found some old photos the other day – you looked about twelve, hair ridiculous. Made us all laugh.

If you’re around and fancy a blast from the past (no pressure, seriously!), we’ve put four tickets aside. For you, your brother, your folks. Backstage passes too, if you want to say a quick hello. Be genuinely good to see you, even just for five minutes. No expectations.

Take care of yourself.

 - Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N

(Stray Kids)

The words blur. Zürich. Next month. We remember you. 

The casual mention of your brother’s recovery—a fact you’d shared in one of those early, desperate letters, seeking connection. They’d kept it. They’d looked.

A wave of heat rises up your neck, pricking behind your eyes. Not sadness, exactly. Not joy either. A confusing surge of something raw and long-buried. The tickets are real in your hand, cool and smooth. Four gateways to a world of screaming crowds, blinding lights, and the deafening beat of music you once knew by heart. A world you associated with sterile hospital waiting rooms, frantic phone calls home, the gnawing guilt of pursuing a dream while your family fractured.

You haven’t listened to K-pop in years. Blocked the channels. Deleted the apps. The very sound of an idol song could trigger a visceral recoil, a flood of memories associated with the worst period of your life. Stray Kids’ music belonged to the ghosts. To the boy who wrote those hopeful, unanswered letters, clinging to a thread of brotherhood that seemed to fray with every silent month.

You stare at the tickets. Premium seats. Backstage passes. A tangible, expensive olive branch flung across eight years and a continent. 

No pressure, seriously!

The urge is immediate: crumple the letter, shred the tickets, toss it all into the small woodstove in the corner. Watch the past turn to ash. Move on. Finally move on completely. 

You don't need this. You have the hills, the sheep, the smell of earth, your brother’s clumsy grin. You have peace. Simplicity. A life rebuilt brick by brick, far from Seoul’s gilded cage.

You stand up, the letter trembling in your hand. Walk towards the stove. The small iron door hangs open, cold ashes inside from last night.

But your feet stop.

You look down at the signatures. Bang Chan’s neat script. The little doodle Felix always used to add—a tiny sunshine. The earnestness in the words: We talk about it sometimes—Always respected that.

The unanswered letters—the silence—it hadn’t been malice. Just distance. Growth. The insane, all-consuming trajectory of becoming Stray Kids. They’d been kids too, back then. Now they were megastars, yet they'd remembered. They’d reached out.

A deep, shuddering breath escapes you. You lean your forehead against the cool plaster of the wall beside the window. Outside, the vast expanse of your present life stretches out. The green hills, the grazing sheep, the distant line of pines against the sky. Peaceful. Isolated.

The tickets feel heavy. They’re more than just paper; they’re a key. A key to a door you’d welded shut years ago. Opening it means letting the noise, the light, the complicated ache of the past flood back in. It means facing the ghosts: the boy you were, the dream you abandoned, the lingering "what if" you’d worked so hard to submerge beneath the rhythm of quiet rural life.

But beneath the fear, beneath the instinct to burn it all, something else stirs. A flicker of that old fondness. Not for the stage, not for the dream, but for them. The shared struggle in those mirrored rooms. The stupid jokes during breaks. The passionate, fleeting bond forged in the pressure cooker of trainee life. The respect in Bang Chan’s words.

You don’t want any part of it. You carved out this new life, here, for a reason.

And yet the tickets are here. An invitation, not a summons. Like they said: no expectations.

Your fingers smooth the crumpled edge of the letter. Carefully folding it back around the tickets. You don’t open the stove door, instead walking back to the bed and sitting down heavily as the envelope rests on your knees like a sleeping animal. You stare out the window at the endless green, the wind rustling the long grass, carrying the faint, comforting bleat of a sheep.

The past has caught up. It’s sitting in your lap. And suddenly, throwing it away feels less like moving on, and more like running away. Again. The Peter Parker luck: responsibility, even when you don't want it. Especially then.

Decision coils in your chest, tight and unresolved. You’ll tell them. At dinner. Show them the letter. Hear what they say. See what you say when the words actually leave your mouth. 

The farm, the peace, the quiet life you built—it feels suddenly fragile, balanced on the edge of four glossy pieces of cardstock. The hillside feels vast, but the world, with its flashing lights and pounding bass, just got a whole lot closer.

—————

Dinner smells like rosemary and burnt crust—mom’s attempt at shepherd’s pie, a staple that usually tastes better than it looks. Tonight, it sits heavy in your stomach before you even lift a fork. 

The letter, folded tight and square, is a lodestone in your pocket, pulling your thoughts down, away from the warm lamplight and the comfortable clatter of cutlery. Your brother inhales his food with teenage fervor, regaling your parents with an over-the-top dramatization of the Great Bessie Standoff, complete with sound effects. Meanwhile, you silently push peas around your plate.

The moment stretches, thick as the gravy. You catch your mother’s eye—that quiet, knowing look that misses nothing. Your father chews methodically, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window, on the darkening hills. The peace you fought for, bled for, feels suddenly fragile and paper-thin.

"Dad," you start, cutting through your brother’s enthusiastic bovine impersonation. "That letter. The one from—JYP."

Your brother freezes, his fork suspended mid-air. "JYP? Like the JYP? Park Jin-young? The company?" His eyes widen, saucer-like, darting between you and your father. "What'd they want? Are they scouting me? Did they see my TikTok dance covers?" He vibrates in his seat, a live wire of sudden, impossible hope.

Your father swallows, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Not a scam, then. As you said." He nods towards you. "Well? What was in it?"

The weight in your pocket feels like stone. You pull out the envelope, the crisp paper stark against the worn wood of the table. The attached tickets slide out slightly: glossy rectangles, stark black and neon against the cream. You lay them down without fanfare. 

"Concert tickets. For Stray Kids. In Zürich. Next month." The words taste like dust. "Four of them. Backstage passes too. For all of us."

Silence. Thick, stunned silence. The only sound is the wind picking up outside, whistling faintly around the eaves.

Your brother’s jaw drops. Literally. His fork clatters onto his plate. "Stray Kids?" he breathes, the name a reverent whisper. He lunges for the tickets, snatching them up before you can react. He stares, transfixed, tracing the embossed logo, the dates. "Premium seats—Backstage passes— big brother, how?" His gaze snaps to you, bewildered, ecstatic. "Do you know someone? Did you win a contest? Is this because of my fan letters?" Hope, bright and blinding, radiates off him.

Your mother reaches over, gently placing her hand over yours where it rests, white-knuckled, on the tablecloth. Her touch is warm, grounding. "They remembered you," she says softly. It’s not a question; it’s fact.

You can’t look at them. You stare at the half-eaten shepherd’s pie, the congealing gravy. "Chan wrote. Bang Chan. He—remembered I mentioned we were out here. After." You gesture vaguely, the word ‘after’ hanging heavy, encompassing hospitals, fear, the desperate flight away from Seoul. "They’re touring. Thought—we might like to go." You force a shrug, aiming for nonchalance, landing somewhere near brittle. "Sentimental, I guess. Or PR. Who knows."

"What will you do?" your father asks, low and steady. Practical. Always practical.

The answer bursts out, harsh, surprising even you. "Nothing. Burn it. Like you should have, dad." 

You meet his gaze finally. There’s no anger there, just a deep, weathered understanding. "That life—it’s done. Over. It belongs to hospitals and endless debt and feeling like I was drowning while trying to stand on a stage. I don’t want it back. Not a single echo." 

The bitterness is acrid on your tongue, a taste you thought you’d buried deep under the peat and the cattle. "We have peace here. We have him." You nod towards your brother, who’s still staring at the tickets like they’re holy relics. "Healthy. That’s the only dream that mattered. That’s the only one that came true. I’d choose it again. Every time."

Your brother flinches. The radiant excitement on his face flickers, dimming as your words sink in. He glances from the tickets to you, his expression shifting from starstruck awe to gradual, horrified comprehension. When it comes, his voice sounds small, stripped of its usual energy.

"You—you were training? With JYP? With—with Stray Kids?" He stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like the calloused hands, the mud-stained boots, the quiet man who fixes tractors and wrestles cattle, has suddenly peeled away to reveal a complete stranger. "You were—you could have been—one of them?"

The unspoken accusation hangs in the air: You gave it up? For me?

You see the guilt flood his eyes, swift and devastating. He looks down at the tickets in his hand like they’ve turned radioactive. 

"Oh," he whispers. Then, louder, more frantic, "Oh, big brother, no. I didn’t—I didn’t know." He shoves the tickets back across the table towards you, recoiling as if burned. "Burn them. Yeah. Burn them. Right now. I don’t want them. I don’t want anything from them." 

His voice cracks. "I stole your dream."

"Hey!" Mom is sharp, cutting through his rising panic. "Don’t be foolish." She turns her stern gaze on you. "And you. Stop talking like a martyr. You made a choice. A hard one. A good one. For family. There is no shame in that. Only strength."

Your father nods slowly, his gaze moving from your brother’s stricken face to yours, shadowed with the ghosts of the past. "Your mother is right. Throwing away kindness, even from an old life, solves nothing. It just leaves ashes." He picks up one of the tickets, studying it thoughtfully, the glossy surface reflecting the lamplight. "Stray Kids—they were your friends? Brothers, even, for a time?"

Emphasis on were. The thought stings. Like jellyfish bubbling up to terrorize unsuspecting souls on the beach.

"Something like that," you mutter, looking away. "A lifetime ago."

"And they remembered," your mother presses, her hand tightening slightly on yours. "After all this time. In the middle of their big world tour, they tracked you down. Sent tickets. For all of us." She gestures around the table. "That’s not nothing. That’s—human."

"Think of the experience!" your brother blurts out, his guilt momentarily overridden by the sheer, overwhelming magnitude of the opportunity. "Zürich! A real concert! Backstage! Big brother, they’re legends!" His inherent enthusiasm is reasserting itself, battling the shock. "Twice trained there! ITZY! NMIXX! JYP is everything! And you knew them? Before they were—them?" The fanboy in him is re-emerging, wide-eyed and desperate.

You sigh, pinching your temples. The headache is back, a dull throb behind your eyes. The thought of the noise, the crowds, the sheer, overwhelming presence of that world—the world you fled—makes your skin crawl. The polite distance in those late, sparse replies to your letters echoes in your mind. 

No expectations, Chan wrote. Easy for him to say, standing in the spotlight.

"But why go back?" you ask, the question directed more at yourself than them. "It’s done. I moved on. We moved on. Why dredge it all up?" The bitterness is still there, but it’s fraying at the edges, worn down by your brother’s puzzled awe and your mother’s quiet insistence.

"Maybe," your father says slowly, placing the ticket back down, "it’s not about going back. Maybe it’s about seeing how far you’ve come." He looks at you, his gaze steady and kind. "Maybe it’s about showing your brother a different kind of stage. And maybe—" He pauses, a rare hint of something softer in his eyes. "—maybe it’s about letting those boys see the man their old friend became. The one who chose right."

The silence returns, but it’s different now. Less charged with your resistance, more filled with a quiet, shared contemplation. The wind moans outside, a reminder of the vast, isolating peace beyond the cottage walls. Inside, the lamplight glows warm on the four tickets lying on the scratched table.

Your brother looks at you, his earlier guilt tempered by a dawning, hesitant excitement. "We—we could just go? For the music? As fans?" He bites his lip. "I mean—if you really don’t want to see them backstage—we don’t have to. But—the concert, big bro—it’s supposed to be insane. Felix’s voice—Changbin’s rapping—" He trails off, the fanboy winning out, his hope quarreling with the fear of pushing you too far.

Your mother squeezes your hand. "We’ll be with you. All of us. Whatever you decide."

The options crystallize: Burn the past—literally. Watch the expensive paper curl and blacken in the stove, a final, defiant act of closure. Or step, just once, back into the roaring river you escaped, armored with your family, to see if you can stand on the bank without being swept away. To see if the ghosts look different in the strobe lights.

You look at the tickets. At your brother’s anxious, hopeful face. At your parents’ steady, supportive presence. The Peter tingle twinges—not the spider-sense, but the deeper one: responsibility to the hope in your brother’s eyes, responsibility to the kindness offered, however complicated, responsibility to finally face the shadow of the boys you left behind in that practice room, not with animosity, but perhaps with a quiet acknowledgment.

The hills outside are dark, silent, immense. Safe. Zürich feels like another planet, loud and bright and terrifyingly full of memory.

You take a deep breath, the scent of rosemary and home filling your lungs. It doesn’t erase the phantom scent of disinfectant and ambition, but it anchors you. Here. Now.

"Alright," you say, the word leaving your lips before you fully register the decision. It feels less like surrender, and more like stepping onto shaky ground. "Alright. We’ll go. To the concert." You meet your brother’s ecstatic, disbelieving gaze. "As fans." 

You pick up one of the tickets, the glossy surface cool against your calloused fingers. The past stares back, bold and neon. "But we’re keeping the backstage passes. Just—just in case." 

Just in case you can stand it. Just in case the ghost recognizes the man.

The sigh that escapes you is heavy, laden with eight years of avoidance. But beneath it, tangled in the roots of your bitterness, a tiny, stubborn shoot of something else pushes through. Not excitement—not yet—but curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest echo of that old, complicated fondness, reaching back across the wind-scrubbed plains. 

—————

The roar hits you first. A physical thing, a wall of sound that slams into your chest the moment you step into Letzigrund Stadium. It vibrates up through the soles of your worn boots: sturdy, practical, utterly alien in this glittering cavern of neon and anticipation. Eight years of wind-whipped silence shatter in an instant. Beside you, your brother vibrates like a plucked guitar string, with eyes wide as saucers darting everywhere—the dizzying light rigs, the colossal screens flickering with pre-show animations, the sea of screaming, lightstick-wielding fans.

"Look!" he shouts over the din, grabbing your arm. "Look at the size of it! And our seats!" He points upwards, towards the section cordoned off near the mixing desk, away from the pulsating heart of the crowd. Premium. Detached. Safe. Exactly what you’d hoped for. An observation deck above the storm.

You simply nod, your throat tight. The sheer scale of it all is overwhelming. The smell–popcorn, sweat, cheap beer, and an undercurrent of expensive perfume–is a relentless sensory assault compared to the clean, grassy tang of home. You feel like a ghost haunting a future you abandoned, translucent and out of place. Your parents flank you, your mother’s hand finding the small of your back. 

"Alright?" she mouths, her eyes searching yours. You force a tight smile. 

Fine. You’re fine. You have to be. For him.

Your brother bounces on the balls of his feet as you navigate the steep steps to the seats. "The passes," he hisses, barely containing himself, fingers twitching towards the lanyard tucked inside your jacket. "We have to use them after! Promise? Please?"

"Focus on the show first," you tell him, rough against the rising tide of noise. The command comes out sharper than intended, a reflex honed by years of watching him stumble towards danger—cliffs, bulls, now this glittering precipice of teenage obsession. "Just—be here. In the moment. Okay?"

He deflates slightly but nods, eyes already glued to the empty stage as the house lights dim. The roar intensifies, a primal, collective intake of breath. Then darkness. A single, searing spotlight punches down. And they’re there.

They’re not the boys you knew. Not anymore. Amplified, electrified, moving with a synchronicity that’s almost alien. Bang Chan stands center stage, a figure carved from shadow and confidence, his opening cry booming through the stadium, a mature leader forged in the crucible you once shared. Felix’s impossible baritone resonates in your bones, Hyunjin’s limbs carve arcs of pure kinetic energy through the air, Changbin’s rapid-fire verses crackle like lightning. It’s polished and powerful, a machine operating at peak performance. You watch with arms crossed, a statue carved from bitter stone. 

This is what you walked away from. This is the dream you sacrificed.

The first few songs are a blur of noise and light, observed through a thick pane of detachment. You catalogue the changes: Minho’s sharper angles, Seungmin’s effortless vocal control, the sheer presence radiating from Jeongin. They’re men now. Stars. Worlds away from the sweaty teenagers crammed into that mirrored room, sharing cheap tteokbokki and dreams between punishing rehearsals. 

Your brother is lost, screaming lyrics, waving the borrowed lightstick like a maniac. You keep a hand lightly on his shoulder, an anchor in the raging waves of his enthusiasm, your own gaze distant, analytical. Safe.

Then, halfway through, it happens. A familiar synth line weaves through the bombast, a melody from the early days—one they’d struggled with, argued over, practiced until dawn in that cramped studio. A song about perseverance, about holding onto hope when the path seems dark. Chan cracks, just slightly, on a high note. Not a mistake. Raw emotion. And suddenly, you’re not in Zürich.

You’re eighteen, slumped against the practice room mirror, muscles screaming, lungs burning. Chan crouches beside you, offering a water bottle, his own face pale with exhaustion. "We’ll get it," he rasps, that same stubborn certainty in his eyes. "One more time. For us." 

Changbin throws a sweaty towel at your head, laughing. "Yeah, unless you’re scared, old man!” Felix just grins, offering a fist bump. 

The shared struggle. The stupid jokes. The fragile, resolute belief in each other. The memory hits like a sucker punch. 

Another song follows, a ballad this time. Seungmin steps forward, pure and achingly vulnerable. The lyrics speak of distance, of time passing, of bonds that stretch but don’t break. You see Minho, not the dancer on stage, but the quiet boy who’d silently shared his lunch when yours was forgotten. You see Hyunjin, not as the flamboyant performer, but the kid who’d nervously asked for feedback on his first self-composed rap. The faces of brothers, not idols. The shared hardship, the relentless grind, the dumb, joyful moments that made it bearable—it floods back in, a torrent breaching the walls you’d built brick by brick over eight long years.

Your vision blurs. You look down, blinking fiercely, focusing on the rough fabric of your jeans—the same ones stained with mud from the hillside. The contrast is jarring and painful. As the music swells, the crowd sings along, tens of thousands united. Your brother grabs your arm, his face alight with pure, unadulterated joy. And something deep within you, something frozen and buried, begins to thaw. It’s not envy. Not regret. It’s a profound, bittersweet ache: the recognition of a bond that never truly died, only hibernated through the long, seemingly endless winter of your absence. The stone in your chest isn’t cold anymore; it’s heavy with a warmth you’d forgotten, a warmth that feels suspiciously like grief for the brothers you left behind.

The final notes crash, the lights explode in a blinding crescendo, and the roar becomes a physical force shaking the arena. It’s over. Just like that. 

The house lights flicker on, harsh and revealing. People begin shuffling out, buzzing with post-concert euphoria. You stand frozen, adrift in the sudden silence within the fading noise, the echoes of the music and memories still reverberating through your bones.

"Hey." Your mother’s gentle touch on your elbow startles you. Her eyes are soft, knowing. "They were incredible." 

Beside her, your father nods in agreement, a rare look of deep respect on his face. Your brother is practically vibrating again, his earlier plea forgotten in the afterglow until he remembers.

"The passes!" he gasps, eyes wide, desperate. "Can we? Please? Now? Before they leave!"

You look at his face, flushed with excitement, eyes shining with the magic of the night. You look at your parents, their quiet support unwavering. The thought of facing them—those polished stars who were once your ragged brothers—sends a fresh wave of uncomfortable dread through you. The farm boy amidst the glitter. The one who walked away. 

But the warmth, the bittersweet ache in your chest, the responsibility to this kid who looks at you like you hung the moon—it wins.

"Yeah," you hear yourself say, the word thick. "Okay. Let’s go."

Backstage is a different kind of chaos. A labyrinth of concrete corridors buzzing with roadies hauling equipment, harried staff barking into headsets, and the lingering smell of sweat and hairspray. A security guard checks the passes with bored efficiency, then waves you through a heavy door marked ‘Artist Only.’ The noise drops to a muffled hum. Your brother clutches your arm, suddenly wide-eyed and silent, the enormity hitting him.

They’re gathered in a large, brightly lit lounge area, still abuzz with adrenaline, towels draped around necks, sipping water. The transformation is jarring up close. Stage personas are shed; they look exhausted, human, drenched in sweat but grinning. Chan spots you first. His eyes widen, then crinkle into a smile that’s pure, unguarded warmth—the same smile he’d given you after nailing that impossible choreography sequence years ago.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he calls out, hoarse but genuine. He strides over, bypassing your outstretched hand and pulling you into a brief, hard hug. The scent of stage makeup, sweat, and something uniquely Chan—earnest and familiar—hits you. "You made it!"

The others turn. A chorus of surprised shouts, your name echoing off the concrete walls. Minho’s eyebrows shoot up. Changbin grins, slapping Felix’s arm. "Told you he wouldn’t chicken out!" Hyunjin beams, Seungmin offers a shy wave, Jeongin bounces over. The initial awkwardness you feared evaporates in an instant. There’s no distance, no starry aloofness. Just eight guys momentarily forgetting they’re Stray Kids, greeting an old friend. The brotherhood wasn’t gone. It was just sleeping.

"These must be your parents," Chan says, turning with impeccable politeness, bowing slightly. "Sir, Ma’am. It’s an honor." The others follow suit, a wave of respectful bows and murmured greetings. Your usually stoic father looks genuinely touched. Your mother beams, immediately launching into praise for the performance.

"And this," you say, gently nudging your shell-shocked brother forward, "is the number one fan. Knows every lyric, every dance move since—well, probably since he was eight."

Your brother turns beet red, stammering. Felix crouches down slightly, his sunshine smile dialed up to eleven. "No way! Really? What’s your favorite song?" 

The floodgates open. Your brother’s earlier nervousness vanishes, replaced by hyperactive fanboy energy. He breathlessly gushes about Felix’s voice, Changbin’s rapping, Minho’s dancing, and so much more. Minho ruffles his hair playfully. Changbin challenges him to a (very) brief rap battle. Jeongin shows him a silly handshake. They treat him not just as your brother, but as one of their own: a kid sharing in their joy. You watch, a lump forming in your throat again, the protective tension easing from your shoulders. 

They’re good people. Always were.

After a whirlwind of photos, autographs (your brother nearly faints), and your parents expressing heartfelt thanks, your father clears his throat. "We should get this young man home," he says, placing a hand on your brother’s shoulder. "Big day tomorrow, early start." He looks at you, then at the group. "You’ll be alright getting back? You remember the city?"

You nod. Zürich’s efficient trams are a world away from navigating muddy hillsides. "Yeah. I know my way around."

Your mother gives your arm a squeeze, her eyes saying everything. We’re proud. We’re here. Talk to them. 

"Don’t be too late," she murmurs. Your brother, still riding that high, gives you a quick hug.

"Thanks, bro. Best. Night. Ever." 

And then they’re gone, absorbed back into the corridor’s dimness, leaving you alone with the echoes of your past.

The atmosphere shifts. The playful energy settles into something quieter, more intimate. Bottled water is passed around. They collapse onto couches, the exhaustion of the performance finally showing. You lean against a table stacked with equipment cases.

"So," Chan starts, stretching his arms. "The farm life? Suits you. You look—solid." There’s no judgment, just observation.

"Hard work," you admit. "Different kind of tired. But good. My brother—he’s healthy. Strong. That’s what matters." The words are simple, but they carry the weight of eight years of struggle and relief.

Felix nods vigorously. "We saw the photos Chan dug up. Kid looks great. Seriously." There’s genuine warmth in his words.

Changbin leans forward. "And you? Really alright? Not just saying it?" The directness is pure Changbin, cutting through the pleasantries.

You meet his gaze. "It was hard. Leaving. The guilt—the what-ifs—they don’t vanish overnight. But seeing him run, laugh, be a normal pain-in-the-neck teenager—yeah. I’m alright. More than." You take a breath. "Meanwhile you—this?" You gesture around the room, encompassing the venue beyond. "It’s insane. You built this."

Minho snorts. "Built it? Sometimes feels like we’re still holding it together with duct tape and hope backstage." But he’s smiling.

They talk, not as global superstars, but as young men catching up. The grueling tour schedule, the creative pressures, the weird food cravings in different countries. Chan mentions a particularly disastrous attempt at making pasta in Madrid. Hyunjin complains about losing his favorite sketchbook. Seungmin talks about missing his dog. Mundane details, shared exhaustion, lingering humor—it’s familiar. The years melt away. The brotherhood isn’t a relic; it’s a living thing, picking up threads as if you’d just stepped out for coffee.

During a lull, Chan pushes himself off the couch. "Almost forgot," he says, walking towards a cluttered desk in the corner. He rummages through a bag and pulls out a small, elegantly wrapped gift box: silver paper, a simple black ribbon. "Got handed this before the show. Strict instructions: give it to you, only after the concert, and only when you were alone with us." 

He holds it out, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "No hints. Sworn to secrecy."

You stare intently at the box. Suspicion quarrels with confusion. Who in this world, connected to this orbit, would send you a gift. 

You take it, the paper feeling smooth and cool under your work-roughened fingers. The others watch, puzzled and curious. Untying the ribbon, the silence feels suddenly thick. Peeling back the paper reveals a plain white box. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper, are two things.

First, a small, exquisitely crafted silver pin in the shape of a stylized candy. Instantly recognizable. Second, a folded note card. You open it. The handwriting is bubbly, playful, unmistakable even after all these years.

Surprise! Bet you never thought you’d hear from us! Saw Chan-ssi was tracking you down (don’t worry, we made him swear secrecy!) and just HAD to say hello properly. We remember the practice rooms, the shared struggles—the real stuff. Heard about your brother—so happy he’s well! Just letting you know we’ll be in Paris next week for Lollapalooza. If you’re feeling brave (or just nostalgic!), come find us. We’d love to see the man our quiet trainee friend became. No pressure, just old friends!

– Sana & Dahyun ♡

(P.S. The candy’s for luck—and because Sana couldn’t resist!)

You stare at the note, the elegant pin gleaming in your palm. Sana. Dahyun. The other pillar of that shared generation, the sunshines whose success and determination mirrored your own struggles in different practice rooms down the hall. 

Memories flash: Sana’s infectious laugh echoing in a cafeteria, Dahyun’s quiet, observant wit during rare breaks, a shared nod of exhausted solidarity passing in a hallway. You’d been ships in the same storm, focused on survival, not friendship. Yet they remembered. They also reached out.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, shaky at first, then genuine. You look up. Eight pairs of eyes watch you, various expressions of amusement and curiosity on their faces. Chan’s knowing smile is the widest.

"Candy?" Felix asks, peering at the pin.

"From Sana and Dahyun," you manage, holding up the note. "They—they want to meet. In Paris."

Changbin whistles. Minho smirks. 

"Twice? Man, you’re moving up in the world!"

Chan chuckles, clapping you lightly on the shoulder. "Told you they remembered. Our generation sticks together, even across the years—and sheep pastures." His gaze is warm, understanding the earthquake this simple gift represents. 

"Looks like your past," he says softly, nodding at the pin now resting in your palm, a tiny, gleaming bridge across years and continents, "isn’t quite done catching up with you yet."

Laughter bursts out before you can stop it—a dry, brittle sound in the plush backstage quiet. The hibernation, it seems, is well and truly over.

"Paris? With Twice? Come on, guys." You pocket the silver candy pin, its edges sharp against your thumb. "This whole thing," you gesture vaguely at the lingering concert energy, the expensive lounge, them, "it was a gift. For him. One incredible night. That’s enough."

Felix leans forward, sunshine dimmed to earnest warmth. "But they asked for you. Sana and Dahyun—they remembered. Like we did." His tone softens. "The quiet trainee who fixed our choreography mistakes and never bragged."

"Yeah, and also stole our snacks.” Changbin scoffs, but it’s fond and in light jest. “Point is, it’s not just about the past. It’s about now. Seeing you." He locks eyes with you, the playful rapper replaced by something steady. "We missed you, man. Properly."

Their sincerity hits like a physical pressure against your ribs. You look away, focusing on a scuff mark on your worn boot. "Missed you too. More than I let myself remember." The admission scrapes your throat. "But this life—the farm, the sheep, my brother waking up healthy every morning—that’s my now. It’s good. Solid. I’m not chasing ghosts in Paris."

Chan’s hand lands on your shoulder, a familiar anchor. "No one’s asking you to chase ghosts. Just—reconnect. See familiar faces who care. Consider it a break. A thank you." He glances at his members, a silent agreement passing between them. "We’ll handle everything. Flights, accomodation—consider it added tour perks."

The offer hangs, bountiful and impossible. You shake your head, a tight smile playing on your lips. "Generous. Seriously. You guys are doing the most. But gifts won’t shear sheep or mend fences. The farm doesn’t run on autopilot." 

You meet their concerned looks. "This," you pat your chest, over the pocket holding the pin, "this was the universe throwing me a wild curveball. Seeing you guys—hearing that old song—it was—healing an old wound. But Paris? That’s a different league. I’m content right here."

Minho raises an eyebrow, a trace of his old smirk returning. "Content? Or scared?"

The question nips because it rings true. He’s right. You’re scared. Of the noise, the lights, the sheer weight of that glittering world you fled. Of seeing Sana’s dazzling smile up close, Dahyun’s sharp gaze dissecting your farm-calloused hands. Of wanting something you swore you’d buried.

"Maybe a bit of both," you admit, the honesty surprising you. "But mostly, it’s responsibility. My responsibility is here."

Seungmin, ever perceptive, nods slowly. "We get it. Just—think about it? The offer stands. No pressure." He offers a small, understanding smile. "The brotherhood doesn't expire, you know. Eight years, eighty, or even eight hundred—you’re still one of us."

One of us—the phrase lodges in your chest, warm and undeniable. 

You clasp hands, a wordless echo of the solidarity that held you up years ago in that sterile practice room. The connection hums, strong as ever across time and continents. 

"Always," you rasp.

—————

Dawn at the farm is a symphony of baaing sheep and low murmurs of the dairy herd. Mist clings to the rolling hills as you help your father wrestle a stubborn feed bin lid. The crisp, homely air smells of damp earth and wild thyme, a grounding contrast to the lingering scent of stage smoke and expensive cologne in your memory.

Over breakfast–over thick slices of your mother’s soda bread and strong tea–your silence feels heavy. 

"The guys—they offered something else," you start, tracing the rim of your mug. "After the concert. Twice—well, Sana and Dahyun, to be more exact—they sent a gift. With an invitation. To Paris. Next week."

Your mother’s spoon stops against her porridge bowl. Your father pauses, a chunk of bread halfway to his mouth. "Paris?" your mother echoes. "The singers? The ones you trained with?"

You pull the silver candy pin from your pocket, placing it gently on the worn wooden table beside the butter dish. It glints, alien and elegant. "Yeah. They also remembered. Wanted to—reconnect."

Dad chews slowly, studying the pin. "And Stray Kids offered to send you?"

"They did. Flights, hotel—the lot." You push the pin slightly with your fingertip. "Said it was a thank you. A break."

"And you said no," states Mother, softly—not a question. Her eyes, wise and tired, hold yours.

"Of course I said no," you reply a touch too quickly. "The farm—the season—the lambs due next month—"

"Lambs can wait a week," your father interrupts, gruff but gentle. He sets down his meal. "Son, look at me." 

You meet his steady gaze. "You’ve spent eight years living for this family. For your brother. For these hills. You dug us out of a hole so deep I thought we’d never see daylight." He gestures around the cozy, cluttered kitchen, encompassing the house. "This peace? This life? You built it with your own two hands, and your sacrifice. Don’t think we don’t know the cost."

Mom reaches across the table, covers your hand with her own, worn and toughened by work. "He’s right. You poured yourself out, love. Every drop. For us." Her thumb strokes your knuckles. "Seeing you yesterday—when you came back after that concert—there was a light in your eyes we haven’t seen since before Seoul. Since you were that hopeful boy with a dream."

"It was just a night out," you protest, but the words lack conviction.

"It was more," she insists. "It was a piece of you coming back. The universe doesn’t send tickets and backstage passes and—“ she huffs, “—fancy candy pins for no reason. Maybe it’s not just a thank you from them. Maybe it’s a thank you to you. A chance to step out of the furrow for a minute. Breathe different air." 

She gently squeezes your hand. "You deserve a break. More than anyone."

Suddenly, the kitchen door bangs open. Your brother bursts in, cheeks flushed from the morning chill, eyes still wide with the afterglow of yesterday’s concert. "Bessie’s being a menace again! Whoa, what’s that?" He spots the pin immediately, pouncing on it. "Shiny! Is it candy?"

"It’s a pin," you say, watching him turn it over in his grubby hands. "From—from Twice."

His head snaps up. "Twice?! Like the Twice? Nayeon? Momo? Chaeyoung?!" His shriek hits a pitch only dogs should hear.

You explain briefly: the gift, the invitation, Stray Kids' offer, your refusal. His face falls, crumpling into disbelief. "You said no? To meeting Twice? In Paris?!" He looks at you like you’ve announced you’re joining a monastery on Mars. "Are you fucking insane?!"

"Language," Mom chides automatically, but she’s smiling.

"Think of the farm, kiddo," you say, trying to reason aimlessly. "The work—"

"Dad and I can handle Bessie!" he declares, puffing out his chest. "And the feed! And the fence by the stream! For a week!" He leans across the table, the pin clutched tight. "You have to go! It’s Twice! It’s Paris! It’s—it’s magic!" 

Alight with pure fan fervor, his eyes lock onto yours. Then, a sly grin spreads across his face. "Okay, fine. But you gotta promise me one thing."

"What’s that?" you warily ask.

He thrusts the pin back towards you. "You bring me back Dahyun’s autograph. No, wait—Sana’s! No—both! Definitely both." He nods decisively. "That’s the price. Go to Paris. See your idol friends. And come back with proof!"

The sheer audacity of it all, the collision of your tangled past and his simple, starstruck present, breaks the tension. A surprised laugh escapes you, rough but genuine. Your parents join in, the sound warm and filling the kitchen.

Looking at their faces—your father’s quiet pride, your mother’s tender insistence, your brother’s ridiculous, unwavering excitement—the resistance inside you, the wall built of duty and fear and eight years of careful isolation, finally begins to crumble. Not with a bang, but with the soft, persistent pressure of love.

The candy pin feels warm in your palm. Paris still feels impossibly loud, terrifyingly bright. But maybe—just maybe—facing those particular ghosts, with the weight of this family’s blessing at your back, isn’t running back to the past. Maybe it’s just—stepping into a different field for a while. Taking the break you never allowed yourself.

You close your fingers around the pin. "Alright," you say, the reluctant acceptance feeling strange, like a new flavor on your tongue. "Alright. I’ll think about it. Seriously." You meet your brother’s triumphant stare. "But you’re definitely helping Dad fix that fence."

He whoops, bouncing on his heels. The farmhouse walls seem to vibrate with his energy, a chaotic, hopeful counterpoint to the quiet green hills outside. The past had crashed back in, demanding attention. And for the first time in eight years, you weren’t immediately building a wall against it. You were just—holding the door open a crack, letting in a sliver of unexpected light.

—————

The private jet’s engines whine down to a whisper as the stairs unfold onto the Parisian tarmac. Three days early. Three days too early, your gut insists. 

The air here smells different. Jet fuel and damp concrete, not earth and sheep. Chan echoes in your head, gruff but insistent: "Take the jet. Seriously. Consider it—farm equipment for the soul." 

You’d laughed then, a nervous bark swallowed by the roar of your tractor back home. But now, stepping onto French soil in clothes that cost more than your best ram, the joke feels heavy and sour.

A man in a sharp black suit emerges as you diverge from the Arrivals terminal and step out the airport, holding a discreet sign with your name. Only your name. Not ‘the farmer’ or ‘big brother.’ Just you. 

"Welcome to Paris, sir. Your car is this way." 

The greeting is smooth, impersonal. 

Sir. It sounds—off. Like it’s meant for anyone but you.

Internally, you flinch. Eight years of calluses don’t disappear beneath soft Italian cashmere. The Stray Kids stylist had worked miracles: dark, perfectly fitted trousers, a sweater the colour of storm clouds that felt like touching a cloud, shoes that gleamed with a predatory shine. The result speaks for itself. You look—polished. Powerful. Like someone who belonged in this chrome-and-glass world. But you feel more like a prize bull dressed for market, acutely aware of every stitch.

The car is a silent, obsidian beast, purring like contented machinery. Inside, it smells of leather and something faintly citrus. Cold. Sterile. You sink into seats softer than any hay bale, watching Charles de Gaulle Airport blur past the tinted window. Rain streaks the glass, turning the world outside into a smudged watercolour. 

Flashbacks flicker, unwanted:

Changbin shoving a sleek garment bag into your arms backstage in Zürich, grinning. "Got you covered, farm boy. Try not to get sheep shit on the Armani."

Felix bouncing beside him. "Think of it as—undercover work! Blending in with the pop star elite!"

Minho, quieter, handing you a platinum card. "For essentials. Food. Don’t—don’t go buying a tractor with it." A rare, almost shy smirk.

Blending in. Right. 

As the car glides onto the highway, sleek buildings rise like monuments. Paris unfurls: grand, imposing, a stark contrast to your rolling green hills. This is the life they live. The life you could have lived. Private jets, luxury cars, clothes that feel like armor. It’s not envy that twists inside you, but a profound dislocation. This opulence isn't freedom, it’s a gilded cage—a dizzying glimpse into an alternate timeline where you stayed, where the farm faded into a bittersweet memory, not becoming your bedrock. 

You fiddle with the impossibly smooth cuff of your sweater, missing the familiar roughness of your worn flannel.

The hotel is more than lavish; it’s a silent opera of wealth. Marble floors gleam like frozen lakes. Crystal chandeliers hang like captured constellations. The air inside the main reception hums with quiet efficiency and the scent of money—of polished wood and expensive flowers. Your suite occupies a corner of the sky. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of rain-slicked rooftops and the distant, hazy outline of the Eiffel Tower. It’s breathtaking. And utterly alien. 

The silence in your new room is oppressive after the constant lowing of cattle and bleating of sheep. You drop your small duffel bag—the only thing from home besides the candy pin tucked in your pocket—onto a bed wider than your tractor seat. It feels like sinking into a cloud. Unreal.

The video call chime echoes sharply in the vast room. You fumble with the sleek tablet provided, relief flooding you at the sight of your parents' familiar faces, pixelated but warm against the stark hotel backdrop.

"Look at you!" Your mother gasps, leaning closer to their screen. "Like a movie star!"

Your father just nods, a slow, appraising look in his eyes. "Suits you, son. But—you alright? Looks—big."

"It is," you admit, running a hand through hair still unused to the expensive cut. "Feels like I’m trespassing in someone else’s life." You motion vaguely at the background of opulence behind you. "This—it’s not me."

"Don’t be daft," your mother chides gently. "It’s part of you. The part that deserves a bit of shine after so long in the muck. Enjoy it! Soak in that fancy bathtub! Eat something ridiculous!"

"Everything’s fine here," your father adds, ever the steady anchor. "Bessie’s behaving. Fence by the stream’s half done. Your brother—" He glances off-screen, a faint smile touching his lips. "He’s out there right now, wrestling with that new post-hole digger like it owes him money. Determined to earn those autographs."

The mention of your brother’s obsession pulls a real grin from you. "Tell him the pressure’s on. Sana and Dahyun’s signatures or bust."

"He knows," your mother laughs. "He’s already cleared a spot on his wall. Now stop worrying about sheep and rain. Look out that window! You’re in Paris! Breathe it in. Let yourself—be here. For us, if not for you."

Their unwavering support is a tangible warmth cutting through the hotel’s dull chill. "I’ll try," you promise, the tightness in your chest easing slightly. "Love you."

"Love you more," your mother beams. "Now go! Explore! Have fun!"

The screen goes dark. Silence rushes back, but it feels less hollow now. 

You walk over to the window, pressing a hand against the cool glass. Paris sprawls below: a glittering, rain-washed labyrinth. Let yourself be here. Easier said than done. You’re still the man who checks fences at dawn, not the man who orders room service in a suite that costs more per night than your monthly feed bill.

A soft knock interrupts your train of thought. Opening the door, a bellhop stands there, holding a slim, elegant envelope. "Complimentary welcome gift, sir."

It’s thicker than the first. Cream-colored paper, slightly textured. Your name is written in the same bubbly, energetic script as before, but there are two distinct hands this time. Opening it carefully, you find not just a note, but a small, beautifully wrapped box.

The note unfolds:

Surprise Again! ✨

Guess who just landed early (well, we did! Shhh, don’t tell management!)?! Paris is calling and we couldn’t wait! Saw you got in safe (Chan’s very sneaky with updates!).

Tomorrow feels too far away. We want to see our quiet hero NOW!

Meet us? Please?

Under the Iron Lady herself—the Eiffel Tower! South Pillar, 5 PM sharp?

We’ll be the ones looking wildly out of place (or maybe not, knowing Paris!). Look for the candy! 🍬 (And maybe—some very excited hugs?)

P.S. Open the box! Sana insisted. (Dahyun thinks it’s cheesy, but secretly loves it too.)

– Your Parisian Partners-in-Crime (and Candy!),

Sana & Dahyun ♡♡

P.P.S. DON’T BE LATE! Or Sana might cry. (Okay, maybe not. But she’ll definitely pout.)

A warmth, different from your family’s, blooms in your chest. Their energy leaps off the page: Sana’s infectious enthusiasm, Dahyun’s dry wit beneath the surface. The mention of ‘excited hugs’ paints a vivid picture of their closeness, that easy, touchy-feely bond you’d sometimes glimpsed years ago in crowded JYP hallways. It’s personal. Intimate. A direct line from the past, abuzz with anticipation.

You open the small box. Nestled in black velvet are two additional gifts: another exquisite silver candy pin, identical to the first, and—a tiny, ridiculously soft plush sheep, no bigger than your thumb. 

A handwritten tag hangs from its fleece: ‘So you don’t feel too homesick! - S&D’

You burst out laughing, a genuine, surprised sound that echoes in the luxurious silence. The sheep is absurd. Perfect. A tiny piece of your muddy, woolly reality nestled right here in this concrete canyon. 

Sana’s playful care, Dahyun’s thoughtful grounding—it’s all there. You hold the little sheep in one hand, the new candy pin in the other. 

Paris seems less imposing now. Less like a monument to a life you missed, and more like—a city. Just a city. One where two women who remembered the quiet trainee, who sent candy and sheep, and wanted to see him again. Tomorrow, 5 PM. Under the Eiffel Tower.

You pocket their gifts, the room key feeling a little less alien against them. The reservations are still there, the unease blending itself with the cashmere armor. But underneath, a flicker of something else ignites. Not the swagger of new clothes, but the quiet, stubborn anticipation of seeing a familiar face—or two—under the Parisian lights. 

You trace the tiny sheep’s fleece. Okay, universe. Point taken. Let’s see what Paris has in store. 

The gilded cage door feels ajar. You might just step through.

—————

Late afternoon the next day, Paris hums of exhaust fumes, baking bread, and damp stone as you approach the Champ de Mars. The Eiffel Tower looms, an impossible lattice of iron against the bruised plum and gold streaks of the setting sky. 

You feel absurdly conspicuous. The storm-grey cashmere sweater Chan’s stylist insisted on feels alien against your skin: too soft, too quiet. The dark trousers are impeccably tailored, the shoes polished, unscuffed mirrors. A man carved from a different life, varnished and presented back to the glittering world he fled. A walking ‘what if.’ The little plush sheep in your pocket is your only anchor to reality.

Then you see them.

A cluster of figures near the South Pillar, radiating an aura of contained chaos even from a distance. Nine women. All impossibly recognizable faces. Not images on billboards, magazine scans, or screens, but flesh and blood, breathing the same Parisian air. The sheer magnitude of their presence hits you like a physical wave: global superstars, Asia’s girl group, casually waiting under the Iron Lady. Your feet stutter on the cobblestones.

They spot you almost simultaneously. A ripple goes through the group. Then, they’re moving towards you, a wave of warmth and vibrant energy crashing over the cool reserve. The greetings unfold like a carefully choreographed, yet beautifully organic, dance of reconnection.

Mina—she’s first, her approach graceful, almost hesitant. A soft, shy smile rests on her lips. Her handshake is gentle but warm. "It’s truly wonderful to see you again," she murmurs, like falling water. Her eyes, large and observant, hold a quiet, sincere affection. "Paris suits you."

It’s a silent kindness, a bridge carefully rebuilt over eight years of silence.

Momo bounces forward second, crackling with coiled energy. "Woah! Look at you!" she exclaims in Japanese, before seamlessly switching to Korean-accented English, grinning. "City slicker now, huh? Almost didn't recognize you without the—uh—farm smell!" 

Her laugh is loud and infectious. She gives your arm a playful punch, the familiarity startling and welcome.

Tzuyu’s third. Towering and elegant. She offers a deep, respectful bow, her expression serene but her eyes bright with curiosity. "Hello," she says, clear and melodic. "It has been a very long time. You look well." The greeting is formal, yet imbued with a quiet sincerity that cuts through the initial awkwardness.

Chaeyoung’s up fourth. She sidles up with an artist’s assessing gaze, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips. She doesn’t offer a hand, just nods. "The quiet one returns. With a makeover." Eyes flick over your clothes, then back to your face, sharp and intelligent. "Suits the Parisian vibe. Good call." Her approval feels like a hard-won prize.

Nayeon’s fifth. She steps forward with unapologetic confidence, her gaze sweeping over you with playful intensity. "Well, well, well," she declares, hands on her hips. "The prodigal trainee! Look at you, all fancy (ooh)! Did Stray Kids finally drag you out the mud?" 

Her laugh is bright and teasing, but there’s a layer of genuine amazement underneath. She pulls you into a brief, surprisingly strong hug. "But seriously—so good to see you."

Next up is Jihyo. The leader steps forward, radiating a calm, powerful warmth. Her smile is wide and sincere, lighting up her whole face. She takes both your hands in hers, squeezing them firmly. "Welcome back," she says, resonant and full of emotion. "Truly. Seeing you here—it feels right." 

Her gaze holds yours, acknowledging the years, the distance, the sheer unlikeliness of this moment. "We’ve missed your quiet presence."

Jeongyeon follows right after. She approaches with a more grounded energy and a wry smile on her face. "Took you long enough," she says, her gruff but affectionate. She claps you firmly on the shoulder—a solid, mooring touch. "Glad you made it. Heard you’ve been busy building an empire of—sheep? Her chuckle is dry. "Respect. Now, let’s get up this monstrosity before Sana vibrates out of her skin." She subtly herds the group towards the elevator entrance.

Fame is a tangible entity. A hum in the space around them, drawing glances, hushed whispers, phone cameras discreetly raised. Yet, within their circle, it feels—surprisingly normal. Or as normal as reuniting with nine celebrities under the Eiffel Tower can be. They talk over each other, tease, laugh—a dynamic, living tapestry of personalities you remember in fragments, now vividly real.

Then, the final two detach themselves from the group hug forming around Jihyo.

First, Sana. She practically launches herself at you. Without hesitation. 

Her arms wrap tightly around your neck, her face buried momentarily against the expensive cashmere. "You’re here!" she breathes, thick with unbridled excitement, muffled against your shoulder. That trademark smile and those animated eyes gleam radiance, but softer, more personal. She holds your face in her hands, her touch warm and insistent. "Look at you! So handsome! And tall! Did you get taller?" Fussing with your collar, her fingers brush your neck, permeating unfiltered joy and affection. "We got your message! You liked the sheep? Dahyun thought it was silly, but I knew!"

And finally, Dahyun. She hangs back a beat, letting Sana have her moment. Her smile is quieter, more contained than Sana’s infectious charm, but no less warm. Sharp and observant as ever, she scans your face, taking in the changes, the lingering traces of the farm in your eyes despite the foreign clothes. 

When Sana finally releases you, Dahyun steps forward. Her hug is different: firm, grounding, one arm around your waist, the other hand a steady pressure between your shoulder blades. It’s a hug that says I see you. I remember. "Welcome to Paris," she says, low and modest, a counterpoint to Sana’s effervescence. She pulls back slightly, keeping a hand on your arm. "Glad the jet didn’t scare you off. You look—good. Really good." 

There’s a depth in her gaze, an unspoken understanding that bypasses the years.

Sana immediately loops her arm through Dahyun’s free one, pulling her close, resting her head briefly on Dahyun’s shoulder—that easy, tactile intimacy between them as natural as breathing. Dahyun leans into it, a small, private smile touching her lips as she looks at Sana, then back at you. 

"She hasn’t stopped talking about this since she heard the guys were going to Zürich," confides Dahyun, her thumb rubbing a small circle on your forearm where her hand still rests. "Practically packed a month early."

The elevator ride to the summit is a blur of sparkling city lights unfolding beneath the glass walls, mingled with the warm cacophony of catching up. Higher and higher, the panoramic view is staggering: Paris laid out like a jewelled map, the Seine a dark ribbon catching the last fiery glints of sunset. But the view inside the elevator is equally captivating.

Jihyo asks about the farm, her eyes wide with genuine curiosity. "Sheep? Really? Is it—peaceful?"

Nayeon interjects, "Peaceful? It sounds muddy! But tell us about your brother! Is he really strong now? Stray Kids said he’s a fan!" Her grin is infectious.

Jeongyeon adds dryly, "Yeah, apparently we owe him autographs. Pressure’s on."

You find yourself talking. About the rhythm of farm life, the satisfaction of hard work, the breathtaking relief of seeing your brother healthy and strong. You mention Stray Kids' concert gift, the shock of seeing them again, the casualness of the reunion, the overwhelming generosity. "They’re—incredible," you admit, your words feeling inadequate. "Like no time passed at all."

Momo bounces. "They’re monsters now! World domination! We see them sometimes, award shows, backstage—they’re still loud."

Chaeyoung smirks and raises an eyebrow. "Loud? Understatement of the century. But good loud. They work hard."

Jihyo nods in agreement, pride evident. "We all started in those same practice rooms. Seeing them soar—it feels like a shared victory." She gestures around the elevator, encompassing her group. "We’ve been lucky too. Tours, albums, been going nonstop—Lollapalooza feels like another dream." She mentions their own world tour plans, with a casual throwaway about Zürich next year. "You’ll have to come," she adds, looking directly at you. "Bring the brother. Front row this time."

Tzuyu smiles serenely. "The mountains there are beautiful. Different from your hills, but—peaceful too, maybe."

Mina simply nods in agreement, her quiet presence a calming counterpoint to Nayeon’s playful and random interrogation about whether Bessie the cow has a favorite song.

Throughout the ascent, Sana remains glued to your side, her arm hooked through yours now, her warmth a constant. Dahyun stands closely parallel, her shoulder occasionally brushing yours, her presence a steady, watchful pillar amidst the swirling conversation. Their casual touches—Sana squeezing your arm when you mention your brother’s health, Dahyun’s hand briefly resting on your back when the elevator gives a slight lurch—speak volumes of their connection to you, a silent reassurance cutting through the grandeur.

Near the top observation deck, Sana tugs gently on your arm. "Come! Dahyunnie and I want to steal you for a minute! The view is best over here!" 

She shoots a look at Jihyo, who nods with a knowing smile. Dahyun gives a small, confirming nod, her fingers briefly brushing yours as she guides you subtly away from the main group clustering near the eastern railing.

You follow them to a slightly less crowded spot facing west. The city lights are fully awake now, a breathtaking sea of diamonds stretching to the horizon. The Eiffel Tower’s own lights begin their hourly sparkle, bathing you all in a fleeting, magical shimmer. The noise of the crowd and the other members fades slightly, leaving a bubble of intimacy high above the world.

Sana leans her elbows on the cold railing, gazing out, but her body angles towards you. Dahyun mirrors her posture on your other side, closer than necessary, her arm pressed lightly against yours. The city’s hum is a distant thrum beneath you.

"It’s really good," Dahyun starts, words almost lost in the breeze, but her eyes are fixed on your profile, "seeing you like this. Healthy. Properly settled." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "We—we heard things. Back then. When you left."

Sana turns fully towards you now, her usual effervescence replaced by a profound seriousness. Her eyes search yours, glistening under the tower’s intermittent sparkle. "It was awful," she whispers, the word sharp against the world’s panoramic beauty. "We heard about your brother—the hospital—the bills." She swallows hard. "Everyone at the company was worried, but you—you just vanished. Stopped answering."

You nod, the old knot of helplessness and fear tightening in your chest despite the years. "It was—a nightmare. Everything happened so fast. The debt—it was crushing. We were drowning." Looking down at your hands, the city lights reflect dully in the polished leather of your borrowed shoes. "Leaving Korea—was difficult. Switzerland—it was the only way. A clean start. A chance for him."

Dahyun’s hand finds yours on the railing. Her touch is cool and firm. "We know," she says simply.

You look up, confused. "Know?"

Sana takes a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Dahyun, who gives a nearly imperceptible nod. "We—helped," she answers, trembling slightly. "Not—not officially. Not through the company. It would have been—complicated."

Dahyun picks up the thread effortlessly, grounding Sana’s emotion. "We had—resources starting to come in. Not like now, but enough." She looks out at the city, averting your glare, as if confessing to the lights. "We found out which hospital. We—anonymously settled the outstanding balance. The biggest one."

The world tilts. The glittering city below blurs. The sound of the wind rushes in your ears, louder than the tower’s hum. 

"You—what?" The words are a choked whisper.

Sana nods, tears spilling over now, tracing paths down her cheeks. "And the debt collectors—the ones your parents were terrified of—Dahyun knew someone who knew someone—" She sniffles, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "They made them—go away. Quietly."

Dahyun squeezes your hand. "It wasn’t charity," she adds firmly, finally meeting your stunned gaze. Her dark eyes hold yours, intense and sincere. "It was—investment. In your family’s survival. In your peace. We saw you fight, in those practice rooms. We saw the weight you carried, even before—before everything collapsed. We saw the kindness." She glances at Sana, whose tear-streaked face is now lit by a watery smile. "Sana wouldn’t stop crying about it. We had to do something. Something real."

The revelation crashes over you. The inexplicable easing of the financial pressure back then, the way the most aggressive sharks suddenly backed off—it hadn’t been luck. It hadn’t been a bureaucratic miracle. It had been them. Sana’s ardent compassion and Dahyun’s quiet, strategic intervention. Their secret generosity had been the unseen current that carried your family to the shores of Switzerland, to the hillside, to this very moment high above Paris. The weight of it all: the magnitude of their unasked-for, unacknowledged gift—it steals your breath.

"I—" You struggle, the words tangling in your throat, dense with unshed tears. "I never knew. We could never—we can never repay you. That money—"

"Stop." Sana’s interruption is sharp, cutting through your stammering. She places both hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look into her tear-filled, determined eyes. "Look at me. Look at Dahyun." 

Turning your head slightly, Dahyun’s gaze is equally unwavering. "Seeing you here," Sana continues, trembling but strong, "seeing your brother healthy, hearing about your farm—your life—that’s the payment. That’s all we ever wanted. Happiness. Peace. For you and your family." 

She strokes your cheek with her thumb, an irrevocably tender gesture. "You paid it back a thousand times just by surviving. By building that life."

Dahyun nods, hand still clasping yours. "Sana’s right. We didn’t do it for gratitude. We did it because it was right. Because you were one of us, once. Because we cared." She gives your hand another squeeze. "Knowing you’re okay—knowing your family is safe—that’s worth more than any amount of money we could ever have."

The Tower chooses this exact moment to erupt in its full sparkling glory. Thousands of lights dance like captured stars. It illuminates Sana’s tear-streaked, radiant face, Dahyun’s steady, compassionate gaze, and the overwhelming surge of gratitude, disbelief, and profound love that floods you. This is more than borrowed luxury or what-ifs. This is about the enduring, invisible threads of human kindness that had held your world together when it was falling apart. Threads spun by these two women standing beside you underneath the Parisian stars.

You pull them both into a hug. Sana melts against you instantly, while Dahyun stiffens for only a fraction of a second before relaxing into the embrace, with her arm wrapping firmly around your waist. Holding them tight, the glittering Eiffel Tower is a silent, magnificent witness. Words feel inadequate. The embrace says everything: shock, gratitude, and the profound, humbling realization of a debt you can never repay, but that they refuse to acknowledge. It’s a silent communion high above the city, a moment suspended in light and shared history.

Eventually, Jihyo gently calls out, "Hey lovebirds! Group photo time before security kicks us out for monopolizing the view!"

Reluctantly, you separate. Sana wipes her eyes again, beaming, her usual brightness returning tenfold. Dahyun smooths her jacket. A faint blush forms on her cheeks, but her eyes hold yours with a deep, satisfied warmth. "Told you we’d find you," she murmurs, echoing her note.

The descent is filled with laughter and the bright chatter of nine women planning out their next few days. At the base, amidst the throngs of tourists, the goodbyes are warm but tinged with the understanding that tomorrow is the calm before their Lollapalooza storm.

"Front row Saturday," Jihyo reminds you firmly, pulling you into another quick hug. "Don’t be late!"

"Bring earplugs!" Nayeon yells over Jeongyeon’s shoulder.

“Wreck your hotel room!” Jeongyeon smirks beneath that matter-of-fact cadence.

"Enjoy Paris!" Tzuyu simply smiles.

"Find some good cheese!" Momo adds.

"Think of Bessie for me!" Chaeyoung laughs after.

Mina simply waves, her serene smile saying it all.

Finally, Sana and Dahyun step forward together. Sana throws her arms around you one last time. "Explore!" she commands, pulling back but keeping hold of your hands. "Be fancy! Eat everything! See everything! Our treat!"

Dahyun hands you yet another sleek envelope. This one feels heavier, containing what you suspect is a second access card and likely another alarmingly generous gesture. "Don’t argue," she instructs, anticipating your protest, her eyes holding that familiar, grounding intensity. "Consider it operational funding for—reconnaissance. French sheep markets, maybe?" 

A tiny smile touches her lips. "We’ll see you at Lolla. Front and center."

They then melt back into the group. Sana immediately links arms with Jihyo, chattering excitedly, Dahyun falling into step beside Jeongyeon, already checking her phone. They disappear into the night, a whirlwind of talent and light heading towards their next arena.

You stand alone on the Champ de Mars as the Eiffel Tower sparkles majestically above you. Paris’ nighttime air feels clean in your lungs. The weight of the past, the secret burden of your family's salvation, has been lifted, replaced by a profound, humbling lightness. The envelope in your hand feels less like a key to forbidden luxury now, and more like a key to possibility—a chance to explore this dazzling city, not as an imposter, but as a man finally seeing the full, unexpected map of his journey. You touch the little sheep in your pocket, then the silver candy pin on your lapel. 

High above, the Tower’s lights shimmer like a promise. In two days, the music. Tonight, Paris. Tomorrow, the world is yours.

And beneath it all, the unshakeable foundation of a quiet pasture, a healthy brother, and the enduring, secret kindness of stars. You take a deep breath and step forward into the glittering Parisian night.

—————

The plush sheep digs into your thigh as you shift on the hotel bed. Dawn bleeds gray light through rain-streaked windows. Paris sighs under a quilt of clouds, its grandiosity softened by light drizzle that paints the boulevards in liquid silver. A reminder of home, you trace the sheep’s frayed ear, before tucking it beside the silver candy pin on the nightstand. 

Dahyun’s advice echoes in your head: "A day for you. Just you."  

So you wander. Not far. Just enough to feel the city’s pulse beneath its muted veneer. 

The Seine glistens like tarnished pewter, barges cutting through mist. In a cramped boutique near Pont Neuf, you find gifts: for your brother, a miniature Eiffel Tower paperweight ("So he remembers not to be too provincial," you mutter); for your mother, lavender sachets that smell of Provence; for your father, a leather-bound notebook. Practical. Grounded. Unlike the tremor in your hands when you spot them.  

First, Mina and Chaeyoung materialize outside a patisserie, huddled beneath a single umbrella. Chaeyoung’s laugh—a wind chime in fog—carries across the street. Mina nods solemnly at a macaron, as if judging its soul. You slip away before they get an opportunity to notice.  

Then, as fate would have it, Sana and Dahyun meet you before lunch.  

They find you at a tiny tea shop, steam fogging the windows. Sana bursts through the door like a sunbeam piercing clouds, rain jewels caught in her hair. Dahyun follows, a shadow in a charcoal trench coat, calm as still water.  

"Farm boy!" Sana sing-songs, sliding into your booth. Her knee bumps yours. Electric. "Playing hooky?"  

Dahyun’s eyes scan your modest pile of gifts. "Lavender? Smart. Hides the smell of sheep dung." 

Blunt. She’s always been blunt to a fault.  

You laugh, but your chest tightens. Sana’s proximity is a live wire: her cherry-blossom perfume, the way her sweater sleeve brushes your wrist. Dahyun watches you, that unnerving stillness in her gaze. They see too much. 

"You should try the madeleines," suggests Dahyun, pushing a plate toward you. "They’re like edible sunlight."  

Sana steals one, nibbling the edge. "He needs adventure, Dubu. Not more carbs." She leans in, conspiratorial. "There’s a vintage kimono shop in Le Marais—"  

"Which you’ll get lost finding," Dahyun interrupts dryly. "Stick to the plan. His day. His choice."  

They buy you a box of pistachio macarons ("For your family! Tell them Twice approves!"). As they leave, Sana squeezes your hand, lingering. Dahyun’s fingers brush your shoulder—a fleeting anchor. "Dinner at our hotel tonight," the younger woman reminds you, handing you a small card with their address written on it. "You’re invited. Don’t be late."  

Later that evening, the hotel ballroom is a lavish collision of worlds. Crystal chandeliers scatter light like fractured diamonds. Velvet drapes pool on marble floors. The normally packed restaurant had been closed off for dinner tonight, despite the presence of countless affluent guests. And then you see why—them.  

Twice descends the grand staircase like jewels spilling from a high-security vault. Jihyo in emerald silk, a queen commanding storms. Nayeon’s crimson gown slashes the air like a blade. Momo, a shimmering obsidian statue come to life. But your breath snags on two.  

Sana floats toward you in champagne satin, the dress whispering secrets with every step. It bares one shoulder, the line of her collarbone a masterstroke. Her hair spills in molten waves, lips stained pomegranate-red. She’s luminosity incarnate: a supernova in human form.  

"Like it?" She spins, the skirt flaring. "Dahyun said it’s ‘excessive.’" She pouts. "I say it’s you-worthy."  

Then, you settle on Dahyun.  

She wears midnight blue—sleek, severe, a blade sheathed in velvet. The dress cuts straight lines, revealing only the sharp wings of her shoulders. No jewelry. Just her eyes, dark and fathomable, pinning you beneath chandelier glow. Her hair is pulled back, exposing the elegant tension in her neck.  

"Stop staring," she says, but it lacks bite. A faint smirk plays on her mouth. "Sana insisted we ‘dazzle’ you."  

You’re not dazzled. It’s more than that. You’re ruined.  

The realization hits like Bessie’s hoof to the ribs: this isn’t gratitude. Not admiration. It’s love: terrifying, improbable love. Not for one, but both. Sana’s effervescent warmth, Dahyun’s grounding steel. They flank you at dinner. Sana’s laugh bubbles over as she steals a bite of your foie gras. Dahyun dissects the wine’s notes with clinical precision, then quietly swaps your glass for water when she sees your daze.  

"They planned this," Jihyo smiles from across the table, gesturing at the excess of opulence. "Said you needed proof that farm boys clean up nice."  

Sana beams, squeezing your arm. Dahyun sips her wine, eyes never leaving yours. "Paris deserves to see you shine," she mumbles. "Even if it’s just one night."  

You choke on flattering compliments. "You look—transcendent, Sana. And Dahyun, you’re stunning. Like midnight given form."  

Sana preens. Dahyun’s cheekbones flush faintly. The other members quietly giggle and laugh at the remarks. 

Only Jeongyeon has something to say, and it’s quite the tell: “Guy hasn’t seen a pretty woman in eight years. Good excuse to stare, honestly.”

But beneath the glitter and gold, the call of the hills tugs hard. Sheep due next month. Fences unmended. Your brother’s expectant grin. This isn’t your world. These women—goddesses in couture—aren’t your future. 

You lock the unspoken confession away, burying it under layers of restraint and expensive meat.

—————

Saturday arrives ruthless and bright. Paris sheds the gray skin it’s worn for days, now basking in honeyed sunlight. A town car whisks you to Lollapalooza. The festival erupts in neon and noise: a fever dream of tie-dye, lightsticks, and deafening screams.  

Then Twice takes the main stage.   

The first synth notes of Feel Special crackle like static electricity. Jihyo’s voice is a clarion call tearing through the crowd. Fifty thousand strong roar back the chorus. Nayeon commands the center, her wink setting off seismic screams. Dahyun weaves through formations, her rap a lightning strike—sharp, brilliant, gone too soon.  

Fancy ignites the field. Sana becomes pure incandescence—hips swaying, smile lethal. She blows a kiss toward your VIP perch. Your heart stutters. Mina dances like water given will, fluid and ethereal, a counterpoint to Momo’s precision detonations.  

The Feels is a sugar-fueled pop rush. Dahyun’s rap slices through the bubblegum beat, crisp and deadpan. Her eyes find yours mid-verse: a quick, knowing flicker. Jeongyeon’s thunderous vocals anchor the chorus, while Tzuyu’s sheer presence—regal, untouchable—silences entire sections of the crowd.  

Talk That Talk is a shared heartbeat. The crowd chants the chorus like a prayer. Jihyo soars. Sana and Dahyun lock hands during a shared run, their harmony seamless—sun and moon colliding.  

Strategy closes their over hour-long set. A masterclass in controlled frenzy. Formation shifts are knife-sharp. Dahyun’s smirk as she nails a complex footwork sequence. Sana’s ad-libs, playful grenades tossed into the roar. The final pose: nine warriors, breathless, drenched in sweat and triumph. The crowd’s screams could shatter sky.  

Backstage is humid victory. Confetti clings to extensions and hair. Security funnels you through a scrum of crew and cameras. Twice surrounds you—hugs, laughter, the smell of stage smoke and ambition.  

"You saw?" Sana pants, grabbing your hands. Her stage makeup is smudged, eyes blazing. "We killed it for you!"  

Dahyun wipes sweat from her temple with a towel. "Mostly for the crowd. Partly for you." Her bluntness cracks your tension.  

Jihyo throws an arm around your shoulders. "Afterparty at our hotel! Bigger. Louder." 

Nayeon shoots a playful wink. "Better champagne than last night!"  

You agree. Of course you agree. Who are you to turn down angels like them. But as you turn toward the exit, a cold wire snags your gut. Something’s off. 

The plush sheep in your pocket feels suddenly heavy. Dahyun’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Sana’s hug lingers a second too long—less joy, more—farewell. You brush it aside as festival adrenaline and emotional whiplash. Nothing more.  

Yet the unease coils, tight and silent, as the limousine pulls away.

————— The limousine swallows you whole. Plush leather, chilled air, the fading roar of Lollapalooza replaced by the hushed purr of the hybrid engine. Sana vibrates beside you, a live wire still buzzing from their set, a thigh pressed firmly against yours. Dahyun sits across, a silhouette against passing Parisian lights, her unreadable gaze fixed out the window. The champagne flute in your hand feels alien, a prop in someone else’s life. The plush sheep is a hard lump in your pocket, a grounding point against this dizzying unreality.

Strange tension lingers. That cold wire in your gut tightens with every city block passed, amplified by the silence stretching between Sana’s excited chatter about the crowd’s energy and Dahyun’s quiet contemplation. The invitation feels weighted with finality. It’s not just an afterparty, but a destination with a definitive conclusion.

Their hotel is a fortress of glass and light. Security melts away as you step into the private elevator, Sana humming Talk That Talk’s melody under her breath, and Dahyun hitting the button efficiently to a shared penthouse suite. The ascent is swift, silent, charged. Doors slide open directly into a living space of staggering affluence: floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the glittering Eiffel Tower, low-slung white sofas, abstract art that probably costs more than your farm yields in a year. It smells faintly of Sana’s cherry blossom perfume and Dahyun’s clean, ozone-like scent.

"Home sweet home!" Sana chirps, kicking off her designer heels with a sigh. She pads barefoot across the deep pile rug towards a minibar gleaming under recessed lights. "Champagne? Whiskey? Water? We raided the good stuff." Her smile is bright, but her eyes flicker towards Dahyun, seeking confirmation, seeking—something.

Dahyun doesn’t move from the window, her back to you, a dark, still figure against the city’s glow. "Sit," she orders, refusing to turn. Less a request, more a command.

You perch on the edge of a sofa, feeling impossibly out of place in your slightly rumpled clothes amidst this sterile showcase of luxury. Sana brings over two flutes of champagne, her fingers brushing yours as she hands you one. Her touch lingers, startling and putting you on edge. She sits close, tucking a leg beneath her, her satin stage shirt shimmering.

Dahyun finally turns. Her face is indecipherable in the dim light, her sharp features sculpted by the city’s glow behind her. She walks towards you, silence thickening with each step. Stopping before you, she glances down. Her gaze travels over your face, lingering on the fading marks on your neck from Seoul—from a lifetime ago, from a different continent. 

There’s no judgment behind her eyes, just assessment.

"You look tense, farm boy," she remarks, matter-of-fact, blunt as ever.

Sana shifts beside you. "Dubu—" she murmurs, a gentle warning.

"No," Dahyun cuts her off, her eyes still firmly locked on yours. "We’ve danced around this long enough. Since Zürich. Since the Tower. Since the fucking farm. Why are you here?"

Dahyun’s question hangs, sharp and heavy. You take a shaky sip of champagne. The bubbles feel sharp on your tongue. "You invited me," you manage, rough with nervous tension.

Wrong answer.

"Don’t play stupid," she snaps, a flicker of impatience breaking her calm. "We sent the tickets. We hunted you down. We paid your brother’s hospital bills, for fuck’s sake. We brought you to Paris. We dazzled you with dinners and stages. Why?" She takes another step closer, invading your space. Her perfume is subtle but potent now, a clean, expensive scent that makes your head swim. "Out of the goodness of our hearts? Nostalgia for the quiet trainee who fixed our choreography?"

Sana places a calming hand on Dahyun’s arm. "Dubu, please. Be gentle."

Dahyun ignores her, her dark eyes boring into yours. Into the depths of your soul. "There’s something underneath all that, isn’t there? Something you feel. Something we feel. And it scares you. Because of the sheep. Because of the fences. Because you think this," she gestures around the room, encompassing everything including herself and Sana, "isn’t your world."

Her words strip away any form of pretense. The farm responsibilities, the deep-seated love for your family, the sheer impossibility of it all—it crashes over you. 

"It isn't," you rasp, setting the champagne flute down with a clatter. "You’re stars. You live in luxury cars and penthouses. I fix tractors and shovel manure. You gave me an incredible gift, Dahyun. You too, Sana. More than I could ever repay. But this—" You gesture between the three of you. "This fantasy? It ends tonight. I have to go back. I need to go back."

Sana’s hand tightens on your knee, her eyes wide and shimmering. Dahyun doesn’t flinch. She studies you, that unnerving glare never wavering.

Then, a slow, deliberate smile touches her lips. It’s not warm. It’s fierce. Possessive. 

"You think this is about dragging you into our world? Making you an idol?" She shakes her head, a dark lock falling across her forehead. "We don’t want you in our world, farm boy. We want you. The man you became because of the sheep, the fences, the fucking manure." Dahyun then drops to a husky whisper. "We saw it in Zürich. The strength. The quiet loyalty. The man who chose his family and built a life with his hands. We’re proud of you."

Sana surges forward, her hand cupping your cheek, turning your face to hers. "So proud," she breathes, thick with unshed tears. "And we missed you. Not the trainee. The man." Her thumb brushes your lower lip. "We love you. Both of us. Have done, for longer than we admitted, even to ourselves."

The shared confession hangs in the air, fragile and monumental. The carefully constructed walls around your heart, reinforced by years of distance and duty, crumble. The love you’ve repressed since those trainee days, buried under responsibility and the sheer audacity of the thought, surges forward, now undeniable. More than admiration. More than gratitude. A deep, consuming love for Sana’s radiant warmth and Dahyun’s grounding steel. For them.

"I—" The words cling to your tongue, stifled by emotion. You look at Sana, her eyes luminous pools of affection and hope. Then at Dahyun, her pride softened into something vulnerable, expectant. "I love you too," you finally whisper, the truth tearing itself free. "Both of you. Since back then. Seeing you again—it didn’t just reawaken that, it just made it impossible to ignore any longer."

Sana lets out a soft, gasping sob of relief and joy. Dahyun’s sharp intake of breath is the only sign of her own emotion. 

“Finally.” 

The word is simple, weighed with years of unconfessed desire.

Dahyun’s hand fists in your hair, pulling your head back. The other grips your jaw. Her lips crash down on yours—hard, demanding, a collision of pent-up longing and fierce possession. It’s fire and steel: a kiss that sears away doubt, that brands you as hers. Groaning into her mouth, your hands instinctively fly to her waist, pulling her flush against you. Her sweet taste—champagne and something uniquely Dubu, sharp and clean—floods your senses.

Before you can fully process Dahyun’s assault, Sana is right there. She doesn’t wait for an invitation. She captures Dahyun’s lips in a deep, hungry kiss, her fingers tangling in Dahyun’s hair. It’s a sight that steals your breath: two idols, lost in each other for a heartbeat, sharing breath and fire, united in their desire for you. 

Then Sana breaks away, her eyes wild, and descends on you. Her kiss is different: passionate, seeking, full of sweet desperation. Cherry blossom and champagne, warmth and yielding softness. You kiss her back with equal ferocity, one hand still anchored on Dahyun’s hip, the other burying itself in Sana’s impossibly soft hair.

Dahyun breaks the kiss first. Her eyes, dark and dilated, hold a predatory glint. "Bed," she commands, rough but flared with authority. "Now."

She doesn’t wait for compliance. She pushes you backwards. You stumble, falling onto the impossibly soft expanse of a king-sized bed covered in dove-gray silk. Before you can right yourself, they’re all over you.

Sana moves like liquid sunlight, straddling your chest, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your head. Her stage shirt is already halfway down her waist, revealing the swell of her tits encased in delicate lace. She grinds down, the heat of her core palpable even through the layers of fabric separating you. 

"Missed this," she purrs, leaning down and nipping at your earlobe. "Missed you." Her fingers work the remaining buttons of her shirt, shrugging it off to reveal a matching lace bra.

Dahyun, meanwhile, kneels between your legs. Her movements are efficient, deliberate. She unbuckles your belt, the rasp of leather loud in the sudden quiet. Her fingers pop the button of your jeans, drags down the zipper. Cold air hits your skin, followed immediately by the warmth of her hand palming the hard outline of your cock straining against your boxers. A low groan escapes you.

"Eager," remarks Dahyun, her cadence a low thrum that vibrates through your bones. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and jeans, peeling them down your thighs in one smooth motion. Your cock springs free, already achingly hard, glistening precociously at the tip. The younger woman’s eyes track its movement, a flicker of pure hunger in their depths before her usual composure slams back down. "Sana," she says, her gaze never departing your shaft. "Get him ready for me."

Sana doesn’t need a second telling. With a mischievous grin, she shuffles backwards, settling her hips directly over your face. The scent of her is overwhelming: musky, sweet, distinctly Sana. Already drenched panties, a scrap of lavender silk, press against your lips. 

"Make me feel good, farm boy," she breathes, full of lewd want. Grinding her ass down on your face, her damp underwear feels sharp against your mouth.

There’s not a moment of hesitation. You tilt your head up, nuzzling against the heated fabric, inhaling her deeply. Your hands grip her thighs, holding her steady as you mouth her through the slit, feeling her jerk and whimper above you. Hooking your fingers into the sides of her panties, dragging them down her legs. They catch on her ankles, kicked away impatiently.

She’s bare. Gloriously bare. Her pussy is a perfect, glistening pink, already swollen and wet, the delicate folds parted slightly, the pull outright irresistible. The sight, the scent, the proximity—all intoxicating. You dive in. Your tongue is a flat stroke up her center, gathering her slick, salty-sweet and addictive. 

Sana cries out, her hands flying to your hair, fingers gripping tight. "Yes! Oh God, yes!" 

You focus, swirling your tongue around her clit, finding the hard little nub beneath its hood. Sucking gently, then harder, flicking with the tip. Sana bucks against your mouth, her moans escalating, high and breathless. Then you slide a finger down, finding her entrance slick and welcoming. One finger slips inside easily, then a second, curling upwards, searching for that sweet spot.

"Fuck! There!" whines Sana, pressing down hard on your fingers and mouth. "Don’t stop! Please—please don’t stop!"

While you devour Sana, Dahyun undresses efficiently. The sleek dress pools at her feet, revealing a simple sky blue bra and panties that do little to hide her divinely-crafted figure. Climbing onto the bed, she straddles your hips, facing Sana. Her ass is a perfect curve just above your aching cock. Reaching back, her hand wraps around your shaft, giving it a firm, purposeful stroke that makes your hips jerk all over the bed. Her thumb swipes over the leaking tip, spreading the precum around her fingers.

"Watch him, Sana," Dahyun commands, coiled with steel, fueled by bubbling arousal. "Watch him make you cum." 

Dahyun lifts herself up, positioning the head of your cock at her own entrance. Bare too now, her panties forgotten somewhere on the floor. You catch a glimpse of her pussy, neat and glistening, before she sinks down.

It’s tight. Unbelievably, suffocatingly hot. 

Slowly, Dahyun takes you inch by dangerous inch, eliciting a low groan rumbling in her chest. Slick, but the stretch is intense. You feel every ridge, every clenching muscle as she sheathes you completely, her ass finally resting comfortably against your hips. She’s deep, impossibly deep. You cry out against Sana’s heat, the vibration making her shriek.

She begins to move. Not frantic, not yet. 

A slow, deliberate roll of her hips, grinding down on you, taking you deep with every rotation. Her walls clench rhythmically around your shaft, milking you. She leans forward slightly, bracing her hands on Sana’s thighs, bringing their flushed, pleasure-laden faces close.

"Look at him," Dahyun rasps to Sana, her own breath hitching. "Look how hard he makes you cum." She captures Sana’s lips in a searing kiss as she continues to ride your cock, her pace gradually increasing, catching you off-rhythm.

It leaves you lost in overwhelming sensation. The wet, hot suction of Sana’s pussy on your mouth and fingers, the rhythmic clenching of Dahyun’s tight channel around your cock, the sight of them kissing above you, sharing your body. All overpowering and decadent. You redouble your efforts on Sana, curling your fingers hard inside her, sucking her clit desperately.

Sana detaches from Dahyun’s mouth with a charged gasp. "I’m gonna—Oh God, I’m cumming!" 

Her body locks up, her luscious thighs clamping harshly around your head. A guttural cry tears from her throat as her pussy pulses violently around your fingers and face, drenching your chin. Wave after wave rocks her, her moans dissolving into whimpers as she collapses forward onto Dahyun’s shoulder, trembling.

Dahyun watches Sana’s climax, her own movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. Her hips piston faster, slamming down onto your cock, taking you to the hilt with each stroke. The slap of skin on skin fills the room, a symphony of passionate cries and stupendous sensations. 

"So good," she grunts, her composure fracturing, her breathing reduced to ragged gasps. "Fuck, you feel so good inside me." She reaches back, her hand finding yours where it grips her hip, intertwining your fingers. Her clutch is iron, inescapable and unforgiving.

The pressure in your balls is a molten coil, tightening beyond your control. Watching Dahyun ride you, feeling her tight heat, seeing Sana spent and trembling beside her—it’s all too much. 

"Dahyun—I’m close," you warn, strangled, losing your intonation.

"Not yet," she gasps, increasing her pace, bouncing against you hard. "Fill me. Cum inside me. Now!" 

Her command is sharp, undeniable.

The coil snaps. With a cry muffled by Sana’s thigh, you explode. Thick, hot pulses of cum erupt deep into Dahyun’s inviting cunt. She cries out, her body convulsing around you, her inner walls fluttering wildly as her own orgasm rips through her, triggered by your own release. She grinds down hard, milking every last drop of cum from you, her head thrown back, a look of relentless ecstasy dawning on her face.

You both crash back onto the bed in a sudden collapse, gasping, slick with sweat and utter release. Sana stirs beside Dahyun with a lazy, satisfied smile on her face. She traces a finger down the younger woman’s sweat-slicked spine. "My turn," she murmurs, husky and already spent.

Still recovering, Dahyun manages a weak smirk. She slides off you, your softening cock slipping from her with a wet sound. She gestures towards Sana. "Flip her."

The command kindles renewed energy. Still reeling from your own orgasm, you move, gently guiding the pliant Sana onto her hands and knees on the bed. Her perfect ass is presented to you, still glistening, dripping down her legs. You kneel behind her, running your hands over the smooth curves of her back, down to her hips. She arches her back, pushing herself flush against you. A needy whimper escapes her lips as your cock faintly ghosts her inviting hole.

Dahyun arranges herself on the bed in front of Sana. She lies back against a mountain of pillows, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy is flushed, glistening, her folds still swollen from her recent climax. She looks utterly debauched and in command. 

"Come here, Sana," she orders, regaining her low thrum.

Sana eagerly crawls forward, settling between Dahyun’s thighs. Dahyun reaches down, tangling her fingers in Sana’s hair. "Make me cum," she demands, guiding Sana’s face towards her exposed core. "Use that pretty tongue of yours."

Sana needs no further encouragement. She dives in with a hungry moan, her tongue lapping eagerly at Dahyun’s slick folds. The sight is incendiary, lighting a fire within you: Sana’s head buried between Dahyun’s thighs, Dahyun’s head thrown back, her eyes slammed shut, a low moan starting deep in her chest.

Positioning yourself behind Sana, your cock hardens again, fueled by the erotic tableau unraveling before your very eyes. You guide the tip through Sana’s slick folds from behind. She’s incredibly wet, freshly sensitive, her inner muscles fluttering as you push inside her warmth. Sana gasps against Dahyun’s pussy, her moan sending shockwaves against Dahyun’s clit.

"Fuck her," Dahyun commands, her eyes suddenly opening, dark and intense, briefly locking onto yours. "Fuck her while she eats me. Make her scream."

You and Dahyun’s goals align. It’s a demand that sets you off. 

Gripping Sana’s shapely hips you thrust deep, burying yourself to the hilt and in her welcoming heat. She cries out, the sound muffled sharply against Dahyun’s cunt. Setting a punishing rhythm, dragging your shaft almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force drives Sana’s face harder and closer against Dahyun’s core. Sana moans continuously, a desperate, pleading sound, her tongue working furiously on Dahyun even as you pound relentlessly into her.

Dahyun’s composure shatters. Her hips buck off the bed, meeting Sana’s mouth. Her moans escalate, sharp and gasping. "Yes! Oh fuck, yes! Just like that, Sana! Harder!" 

Her fingers tighten painfully in Sana’s hair, holding her in place. "And you," she pants, flashing a glance in your direction, her eyes wild with ecstasy, "fuck her harder! Make her feel it!"

Redoubling your efforts, your thrusts become brutal and focused. The bed creaks in protest. The sounds are obscene: the sloppy clap of your hips against Sana’s ass, her muffled cries and desperate licks, complemented by Dahyun’s escalating gasps and sharp commands. You watch Sana’s back arch to your rhythm, hear the pitch of her cries change, becoming higher, more frantic. She’s close again.

"Now, Sana!" Dahyun sighs, her body tensing like a bowstring. "Make me cum! Now!"

Sana responds with a muffled cry, her tongue lashing Dahyun’s clit with haphazard intensity. At the same time, you slam into her deep and hold, grinding your cock against her ass, thrusting the depths of her cunt with relentless pressure.

The older woman screams, her body convulsing around your cock, her orgasm ripping through her with violent force. Her inner walls clamp down on you like a vise, draining you even as she shakes.

Above her, Dahyun lets out a guttural cry, her back arching clear off the bed. "Fuck! Sana!” 

Her thighs clamp around Sana’s head as her own climax crashes over her, intense and shuddering. Torrential slick pulses visibly, wetness coating Sana’s chin and cheeks.

Holding deep inside Sana as she rides out the last of her tremors, your own orgasm held back only by sheer will. As Sana collapses, spent and trembling, you continue to fuck into her cunt. Dahyun is panting, her eyes closed, a dense sheen of sweat covering her body. Still, she manages to cry out orders. “She’s earned it. Cum in her.”

There’s no denying it; not even your body can hold on any longer. 

Stretching her pussy, groaning from the depth of your lungs, hands wrapped on her silky waist. The orgasm wrecks through your very soul. Shot after shot of thick load, you unload in Sana’s creamy, warm cunt. The sensation burns through your muscles, your body enduring far more punishment than any amount of labor, leaving you utterly breathless. She cries faint, airy whimpers, taking all your worth, earning every well-deserved drop.

As the embers die out, you’re clung to her hip, your only anchor as you struggle to steady yourself through the aftermath of your climax.

Dahyun opens her eyes, her gaze finding yours, still dark but softened and sated by overwhelming pleasure. She gestures weakly towards Sana, then pats the space beside her on the bed. "Bring her."

Gently gathering the boneless Sana, you lift her from her hands and knees. Reduced to incoherent murmurs, she nuzzles against your chest. You carry her to the side of the bed opposite Dahyun and lay her down. She curls onto her side immediately, already half-asleep.

You move to the other side, collapsing onto your back between them. The mattress dips. Dahyun shifts closer, her body radiating heat. She turns onto her side, facing you, one arm draping possessively over your chest. Her fingers trace the fading sheep bite mark on your neck. On your other side, Sana mirrors her, snuggling close, her head pillowed on your shoulder, one leg thrown over yours. Her hair fans out like a silken blanket.

The collective silence is profound, broken only by their slowing breaths and the distant hum of Paris far below. Exhaustion, deep and bone-melting, settles over you. The scent of shared sex, sweat, Sana’s cherry blossom, and Dahyun’s ozone-clean skin mingle in the air. Home feels a million miles away, yet its pull remains—not a demand in this moment, but a deep, resonant hum beneath the sated stillness.

Sana sighs in contentment, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your stomach before they stop on your chest. "Love you, farm boy," she murmurs, already drifting off.

Dahyun’s fingers cling to your neck. She doesn’t speak, but she presses a soft, lingering kiss just below your ear. It’s an answer; a promise. A temporary surrender to a fantasy that feels, in this exhausted, sex-slicked aftermath, heartbreakingly real.

You close your eyes. A faint command from Dahyun’s lips emanates in your ear: Stay. 

The combined weight of them: Sana’s warmth, Dahyun’s solid presence—they anchor you in the luxurious present, even as the image of green hills and bleating sheep flickers, persistent, on the edge of your consciousness. Spent and utterly conquered, you let the darkness claim you, sandwiched between impossible stars.

—————

Early the next day, cerulean dawn filters through gauzy curtains, painting Sana’s sleeping face in ethereal silver. Her arm rests possessively across your chest, fingers curled loosely into the fabric of your bare chest. Dahyun’s back presses warm and solid against yours, her slow, even breaths a metronome in the stillness. 

Peace. Deep, syrupy, and utterly alien. The city murmurs outside, a distant hum beneath the cocoon of shared warmth and soft linen. You exist in a suspended bubble, the plush sheep a forgotten lump beneath your pillow, the pair of candy pins gleaming dully on the nightstand like discarded constellations. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed. A calm that feels like heaven.

Then, the shriek.

It claws through the tranquility: your phone, vibrating with frantic urgency on the polished oak surface, shatters the silence like dropped crystal. Sana jerks awake, a soft gasp escaping her lips, eyes wide open and disoriented. Dahyun shifts instantly, her body tensing, a calm anchor replaced by wary alertness.

"Whose—?" Sana mumbles, dense with bedroom haze, reaching blindly towards the offending device before you can react. Her thumb swipes the screen. "Hello?" Her tone is polite, confused.

The change is instantaneous. Her sleep-soft features harden. The color drains from her cheeks, replaced by a waxy pallor. Her free hand flies to her mouth, eyes locking onto yours, wide with a dawning horror that chills you to the marrow.

"—Slow down, please. Slow down." Sana trembles. "Who is this? Looking for—? Him?" 

Her gaze bores into you, filled with a panic that mirrors the frantic crackle suddenly audible from the receiver. She thrusts the phone towards you as if it were scalding. "It’s—it’s your parents. They sound—terrified."

In an instant, the peaceful haze evaporates. Ice floods your veins. You grab the phone, your own fingers numb and clumsy. "Mom? Dad? What’s—"

The voices on the other end are a distorted wail of pure panic. Words tumbling over each other, choked with pained sobs. "Where are you?! We need you! Your brother—he’s—"

Your world tilts. The plush Parisian room, Sana’s terrified face, Dahyun’s steadying hand suddenly on your arm—it all feels vain and hollow. All you hear is the despair in your mother’s voice, the phantom echo of sirens screaming down a rural lane eight years ago. The polished wood floor beneath your bare feet might as well be the cold linoleum of a hospital corridor you know all too well. The scent of Sana’s cherry blossom perfume twists into the sharp, nauseating tang of needles and antiseptic.

"Where?" You gravel, scraping your throat. "Which hospital? Tell me!"

—————

Eight years of peace dissolve. You’re eighteen again, lost and drowning in a familiar, traumatizing smell.

The fluorescent lights of University Hospital Zürich buzz like angry wasps, casting a sickly green pallor over everything. The scent hits you first—that same brutal cocktail of disinfectant, fear, and stale coffee that plagued your nightmares for years. It’s a direct punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs the moment you push through the heavy ER doors. 

Your parents are huddled on rigid plastic chairs, looking impossibly small and helpless. Mother’s face is ravaged, tear tracks cutting through the exhaustion. Dad stares blankly at the scuffed floor, his shoulders slumped under an invisible, crushing weight. They look up as you sprint towards them, your suitcases forgotten somewhere near the entrance.

"Mom. Dad." You hush, falling to your knees before them, gripping your mother’s cold hands. "Where is he? What happened?"

"He was helping me," your father rasps, sounding like stones grinded together. He won’t meet your eyes. "Fixing the fence by the stream—Bessie spooked—he slipped—fell backwards—hit his head on a rock." He swallows convulsively. "So much blood—Oh God, the blood—"

Your mother clutches your hands, her grip desperate. "He just—crumpled. Didn’t get up. Didn’t make a sound—" A fresh sob wracks her frame.

The description ignites a flashback, vivid and cruel: not of Bessie, but of a feverish younger brother gasping for breath in a sterile bed in Seoul, beeping monitors a frantic counterpoint to your own heartbeat. The helplessness. The crushing weight of responsibility you couldn’t shoulder alone. The smell—it was always the smell.

You push past them, drawn like iron to a magnet towards the curtained bay the nurse wordlessly indicates. Your footsteps echo too loudly in the hushed corridor before yanking the curtain aside.

He lies unnervingly still on the narrow gurney, dwarfed by wires and blinking machines. A thick bandage wraps his head, stark white against his too-pale skin. His face, usually animated with clumsy teenage energy, is slack. Peaceful, almost. Worryingly so. An oxygen cannula snakes under his nose. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor is the only sound, its every pulse a direct blow against your ribs.

The awful sight completely upends you. 

You stagger, bracing a hand against the cold metal rail of the bed. The room spins. The sterile white walls bleed into the memory of another hospital room, another still form, another desperate vigil. Eight years. A lifetime of vigilance, of sacrifice, poured into keeping him safe, healthy, alive. And the one time—the one fucking time you choose something for yourself, choose the glittering lights, choose them—

A tsunami of self-loathing, guilt, and remorse crashes over you. It’s corrosive, burning through any relief at arriving in time, disregarding any gratitude for the doctors. It floods your mouth with the taste of bile.

Your fault.

The words scream inside your skull, drowning out the monitor’s steady beat.

You left.

You abandoned your post. You shirked the one responsibility that truly mattered. You played the tourist in Paris while he bled on your family’s land.

Parker luck. 

The bitter phrase tastes foul. Power? No. Responsibility. And the universe exacts a brutal toll for forgetting it. Every. Single. Time.

If you’d been there—

The what-if is agonizingly clear: you, strong and steady, grabbing his jacket collar just in time, hauling him back from the slippery edge, Bessie’s hoof thudding harmlessly into mud. You would have seen the loose rock. You would have anticipated the spook. You would have been there.

Instead, you were sipping champagne under chandeliers, drowning in the impossible warmth of Sana’s smile, the quiet intensity of Dahyun’s gaze. Loving them. Choosing them, however briefly, over him.

A choked sound escapes you—part sob, part snarl, but complete frustration. Slamming your fist against the metal rail, the sharp clang echoes in the confined space. Your parents flinch behind you.

"Idiot!" The word hisses out, venomous, directed squarely at yourself. "Selfish, stupid idiot! Goddamn it!"

Outside the curtain, the nurse in charge stirs, muffled but concerned. "Sir? Is everything—?"

You can’t stay. Can’t breathe this antiseptic-scented air dense with your own failure. Can’t look at his still face and be reminded that you failed him. Again. 

Turning blindly, you shove past the curtain, past your parents’ startled, tear-stricken faces. Your father reaches out, his mouth opening, probably to say the doctor had been by, that the scans were clear, that he was stable, that he’d wake soon. 

But you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. The good news doesn’t matter. It doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. The reality of the situation is this: it came about because you weren’t there.

You stalk down the corridor, away from the beeping monitors, away from the damning proof of your catastrophic lapse in judgment. Effulgent lights above buzz their relentless verdict. The ghost of that sick, traumatized eighteen-year-old boy walks beside you. A constant, accusing shadow. 

Responsibility isn't a choice. It’s an obligation. And you’d just proven, brutally, what happens when you try to break free. 

—————

Inside the hospital room, the atmosphere is cautiously lifting. The harsh overhead lights seem less accusing now. Your parents sit beside the bed where your brother rests, still pale but breathing steadily without the oxygen tubes. A doctor had just left, confirming the scans were clear, the concussion moderate, and complete recovery expected. 

Relief hangs palpable in the air, fragile but real.

The door clicks open. Your mother looks up, expecting you, but her eyes widen in surprise. Standing hesitantly in the doorway are Sana and Dahyun. Sana clutches a ridiculously oversized, bright bouquet of sunflowers and daisies, while Dahyun holds a tasteful basket of fruit and what appears to be premium ginseng packets.

"Um! Hi!" chirps Sana, a little too loud for the hushed ward, her usual effervescence tempered by visible nervousness. She bobs a quick, awkward bow. "We're—friends. Of your son. We heard about—" She gestures vaguely towards the bed with the bouquet.

Dahyun steps smoothly beside her, offering a deeper, more composed bow. "We apologize for the intrusion. We just—wanted to offer our support and well wishes." 

Her gaze flicks to your brother, then back to your parents, calm but watchful.

The air inside crackles with awkwardness. Your parents, weathered by farm life and recent events, stare at these two impossibly glamorous young women who look like they stepped out of a magazine spread. 

Your father clears his throat. "Thank you. That's—kind. He's—the doctors say he'll be alright. Woke up groggy but knew his name. Just needs plenty of rest." The relief as he delivers the good news is profound, softening the lines of stress on his tired face.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Sana exhales, her shoulders slumping visibly. Tension in the room eases a fraction. She beams, the genuine warmth in her smile momentarily banishing the sterile gloom. "We were so worried!"

Dahyun nods, placing the fruit basket carefully on a side table. "That’s excellent news. We're very glad to hear it." She hesitates, then meets your father’s eyes directly. Her usual calm is present, but there’s an atypical gravity bubbling underneath. "Actually, while we’re here, there’s something we’ve been wanting to say for a very long time."

Sana fidgets with the sunflower stems, suddenly pensive and straight. "Yes. Eight years, actually."

Your parents exchange a confused glance. "Eight years?" your mother echoes.

Dahyun takes a small breath. "When your son left Seoul—when your family faced—the medical bills. And the debt collectors." She pauses, ensuring she has their full, bewildered attention. "It was us. Sana and I. We arranged for the debts to be settled. We paid the main hospital bill. And—the more troublesome collectors were persuaded to leave you alone."

Your mother’s hand flies to her mouth. Your father stares at Dahyun, then Sana, his jaw slack with disbelief. 

Sana rushes to fill in the gaps; her words come tumbling out. "We didn't do it for thanks! Or anything! We just—we knew him from his trainee days. We saw how hard he fought, how much he loved you all. And we heard—how bad it was. We had just started earning—it wasn't a lot, but it was enough to help. We wanted you to have peace. To focus on getting your son well." Again she gestures towards your sleeping brother. "We wanted him," she nods towards the door, indicating you, "to be able to breathe."

Tears well in your mother’s eyes, emotion spilling over. "You—you did that? All those years ago?"

Dahyun nods once. Simple, definitive. "Yes. Anonymously, because the company—it was complicated. And we didn't want to intrude. Or create obligation."

"Obligation?" your father rasps. He shifts his gaze from Dahyun’s calm demeanor to Sana’s earnest one, his own eyes suspiciously bright. "Young ladies—you gave us our lives back. You gave him," he too nods towards the door, now filled with gratitude, "a chance to save his brother without drowning." He shakes his head, overwhelmed. "We could never—thank you enough."

Sana waves her hands dismissively, blushing. "No, no! Please! Seeing him now—seeing the man he became? Strong, kind, responsible—loving." She softens. "You raised an incredible son. We're—we're just so proud to know him. Proud of him." 

As she looks at your brother one more time, a soft smile touches her lips. "And we're so glad this one is going to be okay too."

————— The antiseptic glare of the hospital corridor feels like an accusation to your decision. You slump on a cold, molded plastic bench just outside the sliding entrance doors, the weak morning sun doing nothing to calm the jitter in your bones. Paris feels like a fever dream, a gilded cage you foolishly stepped into. The scent of Sana’s cherry blossom shampoo still clings faintly to your borrowed sweater, a bitter foil to the pervasive smell of bleach and despair. Every breath rasps in your chest, full of self-loathing.

Your brother’s pale, bandaged face, so terrifyingly still, merges with the ghostly memory of him gasping in a hospital bed eight years ago. The crushing weight of responsibility you’d carried since then—the early mornings, the calloused hands, the buried dreams—feels like it’s physically pressing you into the cheap plastic. And for what. To have it all unravel the moment you dared to want something for yourself. To feel something beyond the relentless rhythm of the farm.

Your fault. The words are an incessant drumbeat banging through your skull, synchronized with the phantom beep of the monitor inside. 

You left him. You chose champagne and chandeliers over fences and feed bins. You chose—them. You chose—poorly.

"Stupid," you mutter, the self-reproach scraping your throat. You rake trembling hands through your hair, pulling hard enough to sting. "Selfish. Fucking. Idiot." 

Parker luck. A gift disguised as a curse. Responsibility always collects its due, with interest. The universe doesn’t forgive moments of weakness. Especially yours. You picture the slick mud by the stream, the loose rock, Bessie’s startled movement. If you’d been there, your reflexes honed by years of anticipating disaster, you would have grabbed his collar, hauled him back. Simple. Instinctive. Your job. Instead, you were—

The memory ambushes you: Sana’s luminous smile across a candlelit table, Dahyun’s quiet intensity as her hand brushed yours. The dizzying warmth of their hotel room, the taste of Dahyun’s lips, the sound Sana made when— Guilt, sharp and acidic, floods your mouth. You weren’t just shirking responsibility; you were betraying it. Indulging in deep-rooted fantasies while your brother bled to death. "I touched them," you whisper hoarsely to the uncaring concrete. "I wanted them. While he—" 

The sentence chokes off. It’s replaced by a rather harsh yet familiar call.

"Rough night, farm boy?"

Your head snaps up. Blinking against the harsh light, you see them. Not ghosts, but anomalies. Nayeon, Jihyo, Momo, Mina, Chaeyoung, Tzuyu, Jeongyeon—filtering through the hospital entrance like a needed burst of unexpected color in the dull gloom. They’re dressed down—jeans, sweaters, faces free of makeup—but their presence is still jarring. Surreal.

Nayeon arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her arms crossed. "You look like you wrestled Bessie and lost." Her tone is light, but her eyes are sharp and assessing.

Jihyo steps forward, her usual commanding presence softened by concern. "We heard," she states simply. "How is he?"

"How—how are you here?" you stammer, awed and confused at their uncanny presence here, of all places. "You had flights—schedules—"

Jeongyeon shrugs, her hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets. "Sana and Dahyun happened. Once they got the full picture after you bolted from Paris like your pants were on fire—" She shoots a glance at Jihyo. "Let’s just say they can be very persuasive when motivated. Especially together. And honestly? After Lolla, our schedule had some breathing room. They insisted we come. We wanted to."

Momo nods, her expression unusually serious. "They were frantic. Worried about you. About him." She gestures vaguely towards the hospital.

Tzuyu offers a small, solemn nod of agreement. Mina’s large eyes hold only quiet empathy.

"But why?" The question bursts out, edged with anger simmering beneath the despair. "You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have been there. None of this—" You gesture wildly, encompassing the hospital, your brother’s health, your own shattered state, "This is all on me! I left. I took my eyes off the ball for one second, one selfish trip, and look!" 

Your voice cracks. "He could have died! Because I was off playing tourist, drowning in—in—" 

You can’t bring yourself to say it outright. Not in front of them. In Sana’s laugh. In Dahyun’s touch. In the terrible, beautiful feeling of falling for them both.

Chaeyoung crouches down in front of your bench, her sharp glare fixed on yours. "Playing tourist? Is that what you call facing down a past you buried for eight years? What you call finally letting yourself breathe something other than animal shit and regret?"

"You don't understand!" The words tumble out, bitter and scathing. "Responsibility isn't a choice! It's a chain! And I dropped it! I let myself get—distracted. By lights. By music. By them. I wanted something—something just for me. And the universe punished me for it. Hard. Because that's how it works! You step out of line, you face the consequences. My brother paid the price for my—my fucking overindulgence." 

The implication of your time with Sana and Dahyun hangs heavy in the air, unspoken but perfectly understood.

Jihyo sits beside you on the bench, the plastic groaning. Her presence is solid, anchoring. "Listen to me," she answers, low but resonant. "Love isn't indulgence. Wanting happiness isn't betrayal. What happened to your brother was a freak accident. A slip on wet grass. A spooked cow. That’s bad luck, not divine punishment for daring to visit Paris."

Mina speaks softly, her timbre like clear water. "You carry so much weight. For so long. You built a life, a safe place, for your family. That is not nothing. Taking a few days, letting people care for you—that isn't dropping the chain. It's giving your hands rest, if for a moment."

Jeongyeon leans against a pillar, her expression pragmatic. "Accidents happen, kid. On farms, in cities, on stage. You think one of us hasn't slipped during practice? Gotten hurt? Does that mean the others weren't doing their jobs? That they were 'indulging' by taking a breath? Life is messy. It doesn't follow a script where the hero’s vigilance prevents every fall."

Nayeon crouches next to Chaeyoung. "Stop martyring yourself," she says, surprisingly gentle despite the bluntness of her remark. Something your mother told you not that long ago. "It's exhausting to watch. And honestly? Unfair. To you, and to them." 

Tzuyu jerks her head towards the hospital doors. "You think your brother would want you bound to that farm forever out of guilt? That your parents would?"

Their words of wisdom get lost in translation. In your mind, it feels like they’re speaking a different language. 

You shake your head, tears finally welling, teeming with anger and shame. "You really don't get it. I should have been there. I knew Bessie. I knew that slope. If I hadn't gone—if I hadn't let myself—" The image of tangled limbs and whispered promises in a Parisian hotel room flashes, sharp and painful. "Wanted them—"

"You think wanting love makes you weak?" Jihyo questions softly. "Or human?"

A choked sob escapes, then another, tearing from your chest with ragged force. The carefully constructed walls of control, the stoicism worn like armor for eight years, disintegrate into dust. You fold forward, elbows on your knees, face buried in your hands, shoulders shaking with the burdensome pressure of grief, guilt, and sheer, overwhelming exhaustion. The tears are a flood, silent at first, then wrenching gasps that cut through your very soul.

You don't see them move, but suddenly, they’re there. Arms encircle you. Not just one or two, but many. Jihyo’s firm grip on your shoulder. Momo’s arm around your back. Mina’s hand resting lightly on your arm. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu pressing close. Nayeon’s hand rubbing slow circles on your shoulder blades. Jeongyeon’s mature presence by your side. It’s a cocoon of warmth, comfort and unconditional, wordless support. A silent fortress against an unforgiving world.

Suddenly, two more sets of arms slide themselves into the embrace. You feel them before you see it. Sana, pressing her cheek against the top of your head, her frame trembling slightly. Dahyun, her hand finding yours where it grips your knee, her fingers interlacing with yours in a grounding squeeze. No words, just their presence, anchoring you in the storm. Solid. Real. 

The collective strength of nine women who crossed an ocean for you finally cracks through the impenetrable core of your isolation and self-pity. You weep freely; the sobs wrack your body. Years of buried fear, relentless responsibility, and newfound love pour out onto the shoulders of an unlikely sanctuary.

—————

The sliding doors hiss open. You step back into the hospital corridor, feeling vulnerable but strangely lighter. Lingering tear tracks stiff on your face. The group hug had dispersed, with the members giving you space but following close by like a protective constellation. Jihyo meets your eyes, a silent question. You manage a shaky nod. He’s okay. She smiles, small and reassuring.

You need to see him. To say the words burning holes through your guilt-ridden heart. 

He’s awake. Propped up slightly, looking groggy but blessedly alert. His eyes, the same warm brown as yours, focus blearily on you as you approach the bed. Your parents offer small, encouraging smiles. Sana and Dahyun stand quietly near the window, Sana giving you a tentative, hopeful thumbs-up.

The sight of him awake and alive unleashes a fresh wave of sadness laced with shame. You reach the bedside, your hand hovering over his before gently grasping it. 

"Hey—kiddo."

He blinks slowly. "Hey, big bro." 

He sounds raspy and frail. You feel the pang of guilt coming back stronger the longer your gaze lingers on his fragile state.

Tears threaten once more. You fight them, swallowing hard. "I—I am so sorry. So, so sorry. I wasn't there. I should have been there. I promised—I promised I’d always be there to watch your back. And I wasn't." The words spill out, drenched in regret. "I let you down. I got—distracted. I was selfish. And you got hurt because of it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." 

Your head bows, weighed from countless failures pressing down.

A beat of silence. Then, a weak chuckle. You look up, startled.

"Bessie," he murmurs, a trace of his usual grin stirring his lips. "Being—Bessie. Dumb cow." He takes a shallow breath. "My fault—wasn't watching—my own feet. Slippery mud—after the rain. Dad yelled—but I was too slow." 

He squeezes your hand weakly. "Sorry I—scared you." His eyes drift closed for a second, then reopen, focusing with greater clarity. "Shoulda—called you—for backup. You’re better—with her."

His simple, matter-of-fact absolution, blaming only the cow and his own clumsiness, is a balm you didn’t know you needed. It doesn’t erase the guilt—far from it—but it cracks its suffocating hold. 

A watery laugh escapes you. You squeeze his hand back. "Yeah. Bessie’s a menace. That damned cow." 

He manages a slightly wider grin. "Signatures?" he whispers, the childish gleam momentarily overriding the grogginess. "You got 'em? Sana? Dahyun?"

You look over at Sana and Dahyun by the window. Sana beams. Dahyun offers a small, knowing nod. Behind them, the others’ eyes are peeking through. 

Then you turn back to your brother, smiling. "Better than signatures, kid."

Stepping back towards the door, it opens wide, and you beckon.

They file in. Not just Sana and Dahyun, but all nine. A sudden, vibrant explosion of gentle energy fills the small hospital room. They crowd near the foot of the bed, offering shy waves, warm smiles, and soft hellos.

Your brother’s eyes widen—and widen. They’re dying to pop out.

His jaw drops. He stares, utterly starstruck, his gaze darting from one face to another. His mouth opens, closes, opens again. No sound comes out. His face flushes bright red. Then, his eyes roll back slightly in his head, and he slumps dramatically back against the pillows, feigning a dead faint, a ridiculous, over-the-top grin still plastered on his face before he ‘passes out.’

A beat of stunned silence. Suddenly, laughter erupts. Bright, genuine, relieving joy. 

Sana claps her hands, giggling. Dahyun shakes her head, a smile finally breaking through her calm facade. Nayeon snorts. Momo laughs out loud. Chaeyoung cheekily grins. Tzuyu looks adorably confused. Mina covers her mouth, suppressing her own chortle. Jeongyeon casually chuckles. Jihyo shakes her head, smiling warmly at the performance.

Your parents stand together, your mother wiping happy tears from her eyes, your father’s arm around her shoulders. They watch you through the window—their son, surrounded by these bright stars who crossed an ocean for him, looking at your brother with exasperated affection—and their faces radiate with pride. Not just for surviving, but for building a life strong enough to hold both responsibility and unexpected love. For becoming a man worthy of such loyalty, such kindness, and yes, such chaos.

The farm is still there. There are fences that need mending. Bessie is probably plotting her next move. But in this sun-dappled hospital room, the future feels less like a burden and more like a wide, open field, waiting.

————— (A/N: Please fucking help me I can't— In all seriousness, this was a story I never thought I could crack. I've actually put it off for like more than a year cause there wasn't anything I could come up with that clicked. But upon one more revisit of the prompt, I figured the best way to tackle it was to tell a fish out-of-water story from his perspective. Combining his personal duty to family with a pang of nostalgia helped ease in the gaps. Beyond that, Sana and Dahyun are a very special pair, so hopefully I did them both a service! Full album on the way, member solos, Tzuyu's homecoming, and a massive world tour? Something tells me this might be their last big activity for a good while. Thank you for reading!)

[jupiterpilgrim]

Storm

Dahyun x Male Reader

word count: 5K

The storm’s been pounding the world outside since morning, slashing against the windows like nature itself lost its temper. Inside, though, it’s warm. Smells of butter and chocolate fill the small kitchen as you finish arranging the last handful of popcorn in the bowl. You grab the soda cans, balancing everything like a waiter on a tightrope. In the living room, Dahyun’s voice carries over the rumble of rain.

“Babe! Hurry up!” she whines, her pitch soaring as you hear the soft thuds of her bouncing on the couch cushions. She sounds like a sugar-rushed kid waiting for cake. You can already picture her, legs tucked under her, short pink Hello Kitty shorts riding up her pale thighs, loose shirt hanging off one shoulder. You shake your head with a grin, grabbing a pack of M&Ms to complete the spread.

Three months of living together, and the novelty hasn’t worn off. It’s the little things—how she’ll randomly burst into song while brushing her teeth or how she’s somehow made every corner of the house scream Dahyun. She’s your chaotic little sunbeam, glowing even on days like this, when the world outside feels drenched in gray.

You make your way into the living room. Dahyun’s perched on her knees now, practically vibrating with excitement. “Finally! I thought you were planning a three-course meal back there,” she teases, flashing that toothy grin of hers.

“Snacks are serious business,” you shoot back, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

She claps her hands like a kid at Christmas and immediately snatches the remote. “Okay, okay, let’s do this!” She’s already flicking through the Disney+ menu, landing on the classic she’s been hyping all week. Something bright and nostalgic—perfect for a stormy night.

Just as she’s about to press play, the sky outside splits open. Thunder roars so loud it rattles the windows, and then—bam—everything goes dark.

“AAAAHHHH!” Dahyun shrieks, her voice cutting through the sudden silence. She’s off the couch in a flash, nearly tripping over herself as she stumbles toward you. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” Her hands clutch at your arm, fingers digging in like a cat trying to climb a tree.

“It’s just a blackout,” you say, but she’s already shaking her head.

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” she chants, squeezing her eyes shut. Her grip tightens as another crack of thunder rolls through, closer this time. She lets out a tiny yelp, burying her face in your chest.

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Dahyunnie, it’s fine. It’s just weather. It’s not gonna eat you.”

“It feels like it’s gonna eat me,” she mutters into your shirt, voice muffled and pitiful. “What if it doesn’t come back? What if we’re stuck in the dark forever?”

You bite back a laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Forever’s a stretch, don’t you think?”

“Don’t make fun of me!” she pouts, though the corners of her lips twitch. Her hands stay glued to you as she shuffles in place, practically curling into your side like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to sanity.

You guide her back to the couch, sitting down with her practically in your lap. The rain hammers harder against the windows, and every so often the room lights up with a jagged flash of lightning. Each time, Dahyun flinches, burying herself further into you until she’s half-straddling you, her thin little body trembling slightly under the loose shirt.

“You’re really not a fan of storms, huh?” you ask softly, running your fingers through her silky black hair.

“Nope. Never. Hate them,” she mutters, clutching the front of your shirt. “They’re loud, and it’s dark, and it’s like... ugh, I can’t explain it.” She looks up at you, and even though you can't see it properly, you know she's scrunching her nose in that way that always makes your heart flip. “You think I’m dumb.

“I think you’re adorable,” you say, leaning in to nuzzle her. She giggles despite herself, smacking your chest lightly.

“Don’t try to charm me. I’m serious. I feel like a little kid, freaking out like this.”

“You’re my little kid,” you tease, earning another playful slap. “Alright, alright, I get it. But you know what? You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m here.”

Her fingers relax a little, her body softening against you. She sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. “You always make me feel safe,” she murmurs.

“I mean, I am pretty great,” you joke, earning a snort.

Her laughter is short-lived as another rumble of thunder sends a shiver through her. Her legs twitch slightly where they’re pressed against yours, bare and smooth. You trail your hand down to her thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Hey,” you whisper, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at you. “I know a way to make you forget about the storm.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping low. “Distraction therapy.”

Her lips part, her breath hitching slightly as she catches the mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re ridiculous,” she mumbles, though there’s a flicker of interest in her voice.

“Maybe,” you admit, letting your hand wander just a little higher, brushing the hem of her shorts. “But you love me for it.”

Her cheeks flush pink, the storm momentarily forgotten as she shifts in your lap, the weight of her settling just right.

You move your hand to Dahyun's head, your fingers comb through her hair, the silky strands slipping easily between your fingers. She feels so small in your lap, legs folded up, her cheek pressed against your chest. The rain’s still battering the windows, and the occasional flicker of lightning casts jagged shadows across the room, but you focus on her—on her warmth, her little huffs of nervous breath.

“You okay?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.

She nods weakly, though her grip on your shirt hasn’t loosened. “Yeah... I just—tonight was supposed to be fun, you know?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You were excited about the movie.”

She pulls back just enough to look up at you, her pout exaggerated. “Of course I was! It’s a classic! I’ve been talking about it all week, haven’t I?” Her voice lilts with playful indignation, though her eyes are still wide, the thunder’s threat lurking in the back of her mind.

“You’ve been hyping it like it’s the second coming of Christ,” you tease, earning a small giggle.

“Well, yeah,” she says with a dramatic toss of her head. “Now it’s ruined. Stupid storm.” Her gaze drifts toward the window, her mood dipping again. You hate seeing that little flicker of disappointment in her.

“We’ll watch it as soon as the power comes back,” you promise, pulling her closer. “But hey, this just means we’ll have to do this whole thing again. More snacks, more cuddles. Bigger deal.”

She narrows her eyes like she’s considering your pitch, then smirks. “Fine, but only if you let me pick another movie, too.”

“Deal,” you say, grinning, just as another crack of thunder splits the air.

Dahyun screams, loud and high-pitched, the sound stabbing directly into your eardrum. You wince, half-deaf, as she scrambles up against you like she’s trying to climb inside your skin. Her arms lock around your neck, her whole body trembling like a cornered kitten.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I hate this! It feels like the sky is gonna fall!” she wails, voice muffled against your chest.

“It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, stroking her back in slow circles. “It’s just noise. It can’t hurt you.”

“But it feels like it can,” she whimpers, squeezing tighter.

“Hey, listen to me,” you say, tilting her chin up so her glassy eyes meet yours. “You don’t need to be scared, okay? I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m here.”

She sniffs, her lips wobbling into the faintest smile. “You always say the right thing, huh?”

“It’s a gift,” you say, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “But for real. If you ever feel scared, you just let me know, okay?”

She nods, her voice small. “Okay.”

A pause stretches between you, the storm roaring outside, while inside, it’s just her heartbeat against yours. Finally, you murmur, “You want me to calm you down now? Make you feel good?”

She blinks up at you, her breath catching slightly. “...Yeah,” she whispers, almost shyly.

You lean in, the space between you shrinking. In the dark, neither of you can see clearly, and when your lips meet, there’s a sharp clink—teeth crashing together painfully.

“Shit!” you yelp, pulling back, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she gasps, then bursts out laughing when she sees you clutching your face. “You’re such a dork!”

“Me?! You’re the one who can’t aim!” you shoot back, grinning despite the ache.

She’s still laughing as you cup her face again, this time more careful, your thumb brushing against her cheekbone. “Alright, let’s try this again,” you whisper, and then your lips meet hers properly. It’s soft at first, a tentative press, but the way she melts into you makes you press harder, deeper. Her hands find their way to your shoulders, fingers curling into your shirt as she sighs into your mouth.

The world outside seems to shrink. The storm, the dark, the cold—all of it fades as your bodies draw closer, her warmth against yours. Her lips are so soft, and there’s something addictive about the way she responds, the little noises she makes as your hands trail down her sides, brushing the bare skin of her thighs where her shorts ride up.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together, you whisper, “C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

She hesitates for half a second, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip, before nodding. “Okay,” she breathes.

The two of you fumble your way through the pitch-black apartment, bumping into furniture and each other. She stifles a giggle when she nearly trips over the coffee table, clutching your hand like it’s her lifeline. By the time you reach the bedroom, both of you are out of breath from laughing, the tension from earlier replaced with something warm, intimate. You push the door open, pulling her inside as lightning flashes outside, casting fleeting silver across her silhouette.

In the dark, her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close again. “Thanks for being my storm shield,” she whispers, her voice soft and teasing.

“Anytime,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, this time slower, savoring every second.

Your lips are locked with hers, warm and soft, and it’s like nothing else in the world matters. As you kiss her, you guide her backward, your hands on her waist, steadying her as you move. Her leg bumps against the edge of the bed, and before either of you can react, she stumbles, falling onto the mattress with a surprised laugh.

You’re right there with her, landing softly on top of her. She’s still giggling, her cheeks flushed, and you can’t help but smile down at her. “You okay?” you ask, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice light, her eyes sparkling in the faint sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Her hands slide up to your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Now kiss me.”

Then your mouth finds hers again, but this time it’s slower, deeper. Your hands roam, sliding down her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist under the thin fabric of her shirt. She sighs into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath you as you press her into the mattress.

Breaking away from her lips, you start a trail of kisses down her jaw, your lips brushing over the delicate curve until you reach her neck. Her skin is warm and smells faintly of her vanilla body lotion, sweet and intoxicating. You breathe her in, unable to get enough, and press your mouth against her neck, kissing and nipping gently. Her head tilts back, giving you more access, and she lets out this tiny, breathy moan that goes straight to your core.

“God, you smell so good,” you murmur against her skin, your lips moving to her collarbone. She shivers under you, her hands gripping the back of your shirt.

“You always say that,” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with teasing.

“Because it’s true,” you reply, grinning as you kiss the hollow of her throat. She smells like comfort, like home, like something you could drown in and never get tired of. Every kiss draws another little sound from her—a sigh, a gasp, a quiet moan—and each one just spurs you on.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin, the words tumbling out between kisses.

“I love you too,” she breathes, her voice trembling just slightly, like she’s overwhelmed.

Your hands slide up her sides, gathering the hem of her loose shirt. You pause for a second, giving her a look, then you pull it up, revealing her pale skin inch by inch. The cold air hits her, making her shiver, and you notice the goosebumps rising on her arms. “Cold?” you ask softly.

“A little,” she admits, but there’s a teasing glint in her eye. “You can warm me up, right?”

You smirk. “Oh, I’ve got that covered.”

Her shirt ends up somewhere on the floor, forgotten, as your eyes roam over her. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her breaths shallow, and her almost-flat breasts peek out from under her bra. You lean down, trailing kisses over her skin, starting at her stomach and working your way up, taking your time. Her breathing changes with every kiss, her chest heaving as you kiss the curve of her ribs, the dip between her breasts.

“You know I love these, right?” you murmur, your lips brushing over the top of her bra.

She rolls her eyes playfully, her cheeks flushing pink. “You’ve told me, like, a million times.”

“Yeah, but I never get tired of saying it,” you reply, slipping your fingers under the fabric and pulling the bra down enough to expose her. The cold air makes her nipples stiffen instantly, but your mouth is there a second later, warm and soft, replacing the chill with heat.

She gasps sharply, her back arching slightly as your lips close around her nipple. Your tongue flicks over the sensitive peak, and her hands fly to your hair, tangling in it as she pulls you closer. “God, that feels good,” she whispers, her voice shaky.

You hum against her skin, sucking gently, savoring the way her body reacts to every movement of your mouth. Your free hand slides up to her other breast, your fingers tracing lazy circles around the nipple before giving it a gentle pinch. She moans, her hips shifting under you, and you can feel the warmth of her thighs brushing against yours.

“You’re so perfect,” you say between kisses, moving to her other breast. “I could stay here forever.”

“Don’t say that,” she murmurs, her voice soft but full of emotion. “You’ll make me cry.”

You pause, looking up at her, your lips brushing against her skin. “Good tears or bad tears?”

She smiles down at you, her eyes shining. “Good ones.”

“Then I’ll keep going,” you whisper, lowering your mouth to her again.

Your mouth stays busy on her chest, sucking gently on her nipple while your tongue flicks over the hardened peak, earning another soft moan from her lips. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging slightly whenever you suck harder. It’s like she’s melting under you, her body arching and squirming, her little sounds only encouraging you to keep going.

As your lips trail from one breast to the other, your hand starts to wander. It slides down the flat plane of her stomach, her skin warm and smooth beneath your touch. You pause for a moment, just long enough to feel the slight hitch in her breathing as your fingers reach the waistband of her shorts. You know she's watching you now, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted like she’s waiting for what’s coming next.

You slip your hand under the fabric of her shorts and panties, your palm brushing against her hip, and immediately feel the heat radiating from her. When your fingers dip lower, the first thing you feel is how wet she already is. A low groan escapes your throat as your fingers slide over her slick folds, and you pull back just enough to murmur against her skin, “You’re soaked, baby.”

“Shut up,” she whispers, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no hiding the way her body reacts. Her hips shift instinctively, pressing herself against your hand, her breath coming out in quick, shaky bursts.

Your fingers glide over her, spreading her wetness as you find her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. Her body jerks slightly, a sharp gasp leaving her lips. “Oh my god,” she breathes, her head falling back against the pillow.

“Feel good?” you ask, though the way her thighs tremble and try to close around your hand is answer enough.

“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice soft and high-pitched, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you say with a grin, dipping your head back down to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple again, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make her squirm. At the same time, your fingers slide lower, slipping into her tight, dripping hole.

“Fuck,” you groan against her skin as you feel how warm and snug she is around your fingers. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

She lets out a choked moan, her hands flying to your shoulders, clutching you as your fingers start to move. Slow at first, pumping in and out of her while your thumb circles her clit. Her body reacts instantly, her hips rocking to meet your hand, her moans growing louder with every thrust.

“God, you’re amazing,” you murmur, kissing her chest, her neck, her jaw. “So fucking perfect.”

She’s trembling now, her breathing ragged as you pick up the pace. Your fingers curl inside her, finding that spot that makes her gasp and cling to you like her life depends on it. “Right there,” she cries out, her nails digging into your skin. “Fuck, don’t stop, right there.”

“Anything for you,” you whisper, your voice low and thick with desire. Your thumb presses harder against her clit, and you feel her walls tighten around your fingers, her body tensing. Her moans are louder now, more desperate, her head tossing back as her legs start to shake.

It’s all too much for her—your mouth on her breasts, your fingers buried deep in her slick pussy, pumping and curling just right. Every time you move, every time you kiss her skin, her little moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand like she can’t get enough. Her nails dig into your shoulders as she gasps for air, her voice breaking into shaky little whimpers.

But even with all that, it’s not enough for her. She can feel the weight of your cock pressing against her thigh, thick and heavy, the heat of it radiating through your pants. It’s driving her insane. Her hips jerk erratically, chasing a friction that isn’t there, and her head tilts back as she lets out a desperate, needy moan.

“Babe,” she whines, her voice trembling, almost pathetic with how desperate she sounds. “I need you. Please. I need it.”

Her words make your cock throb, the sheer hunger in her tone lighting a fire in your chest. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you look down at her. “You need what?” you ask, teasing, though your voice is rough, your own need barely held in check.

She groans in frustration, her cheeks flushed, her thighs trembling. “You know what I need!” she cries, her hands sliding down your chest, trying to tug at the waistband of your pants. “Please, I need your cock. I can’t wait anymore.”

The way she’s begging, her voice cracking with need, only makes you harder. Your fingers slow their pace inside her, and she whimpers at the loss of momentum, squirming beneath you. “You really want it that bad?” you murmur, pulling your hand out of her and holding it up before putting two fingers in your mouth to taste it. “You’re dripping for me, baby.”

“Yes!” she gasps, her hands fumbling with the button of your pants now, her impatience clear in every movement. “Please, just—just fuck me already. I need you.”

Her begging snaps what little control you were holding onto. “Alright,” you growl, sitting back on your knees and shoving your pants down. You don’t bother with underwear—you’re not wearing any—and your cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with precum. Dahyun's small hand immediately wraps around your cock, stroking it lightly, her breath catching.

“You’re so big,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Then come and get it,” you reply, leaning back against the headboard, your cock resting against your stomach, throbbing with anticipation.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her hands go to her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her shorts follow along with her panties, and now she’s naked, her pale skin glowing in the darkness. She’s perfect, every curve, every line of her body making your mouth water.

You grab her hips as she climbs onto your lap, straddling you, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your thighs. “You sure you can handle it?” you tease, your hands sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

“Shut up,” she mutters. “I need it.”

Her hands grip your shoulders as she tries to position herself, her body brushing against yours in the process. You can feel the heat of her pussy against your cock, and it makes you groan, your hands tightening on her hips.

“It’s hard to see,” she murmurs, frustration creeping into her tone as she shifts, trying to line herself up in the dark.

“Take your time, baby,” you say, though your voice is strained. Every time her slick folds brush against your cock, it sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Finally, she finds the angle she needs, and you both moan as the tip of your cock presses against her entrance. Slowly, she starts to sink down, her tight pussy stretching around you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling forward, her nails digging into your shoulders as she lowers herself. “You’re so... fucking... big.”

“You’re so tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you try not to buck up into her. The heat and wetness of her pussy, the way it clenches around you, makes it almost impossible to stay still. “God, you feel so good.”

She’s breathing hard, her thighs trembling as she takes more of you, her pussy stretching to accommodate your girth. It’s slow, almost torturous, but finally, she’s seated all the way down, her ass resting against your thighs. She lets out a shaky moan of relief, her head falling back as her body adjusts to the fullness.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “You’re so deep... I can feel you everywhere.”

You tilt your head back, groaning as her walls flutter around you. “You’re perfect,” you murmur, your hands sliding up her sides, holding her steady as she starts to move. “Ride me, baby. Show me how much you need it.”

The moment Dahyun starts moving, you know you’re in trouble. She wastes no time, her hips rolling and bouncing, her tight, wet pussy gripping you like a fucking vice. It’s almost overwhelming—how snug she is, how her heat wraps around you, dragging you deeper with every thrust. Even in the dark, with the only light coming from the occasional flicker of lightning outside, you don’t need to see her to know she looks incredible. Her small, pale body moving on top of you, her thighs trembling as she rides you like her life depends on it—you can feel it all, and it’s driving you insane.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements as she starts to pick up speed. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

Her moans grow louder, higher-pitched, the sound raw and needy as she rocks her hips against you. Her hands are braced on your chest, her nails digging in for leverage as she moves. “God,” she whimpers, her voice shaky but insistent. “You’re so big. So fucking thick. I can feel you stretching me out.”

Your cock throbs at her words, a low growl rumbling in your chest. She always says shit like that, like she knows exactly how to get under your skin, how to push you closer to the edge. And fuck, it works every time. “You love it, don’t you?” you mutter, your voice rough. “You love how my cock fills you up.”

“Yes,” she cries out, her pace quickening, the wet sound of her pussy taking you echoing through the room. “I love it so much. I’m fucking addicted to it. To you.”

Her confession makes your grip on her hips tighten, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you help guide her movements. You can feel her tight little ass rubbing against your pelvis with every bounce, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. “You feel so fucking good, Dahyun,” you groan, your head tilting back as she keeps going. “I can never get enough of you.”

The rain outside seems to be coming down harder, the sound of it pounding against the windows mixing with the slap of her skin against yours. Thunder rolls through the sky, loud and sharp, but neither of you pays it any attention. She’s too focused on the way your cock fills her, and you’re too caught up in the way her pussy clenches around you, milking you like she never wants to let go.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, her voice breaking slightly as she leans forward, her breath hot against your neck. “I can feel you... fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

Her words make your cock twitch, and you glance down, even in the dim light, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. She’s so small, her frame so petite, that every time you’re buried inside her, you can see the faint outline of your cock bulging in her lower belly. It’s fucking intoxicating, knowing how much you fill her, how her tiny body takes you so perfectly.

“Look at that,” you murmur, your hand sliding between you to press gently against her stomach. She lets out a choked gasp, her hips stuttering for a moment as she feels the added pressure. “You feel that? That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you.”

“Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice high and shaky. “I feel it... I love it. I love how big you are. How you stretch me out.”

“Keep going,” you tell her, your hands moving back to her hips, urging her to keep moving. “Ride me, baby. Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t need any more encouragement. Her pace quickens again, her hips slamming down onto you with a desperate rhythm. Her moans grow louder, more frantic, the sound mixing with the rain and thunder as she completely loses herself in the feeling of you. Her thighs are trembling against your sides, her body working overtime to take all of you, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down.

“God, you’re amazing,” you groan, your hands roaming up and down her body, over her ribs, her waist, her thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect, Dahyun. I could watch you do this all night.”

“Then don’t stop watching,” she gasps, her voice breathless but teasing. “I’ll ride you as long as you want.”

And fuck, she means it. Even though you haven’t cum yet, and neither has she, the way she’s moving, the way her pussy grips you like she never wants to let you go—it’s enough to make you feel like you could lose it at any second. But you hold on, watching as she keeps going, her moans and gasps filling the room as she rides you like there’s no tomorrow.

Dahyun’s movements are growing more frantic now, her slim body bouncing on your cock with wild abandon. Her moans are louder, breathless and unrestrained, filling the room as her hips slap against yours. The wet, messy sounds of her tight pussy taking you echo beneath the storm outside, the rain beating against the windows a steady, distant drum. Her small hands cling to your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she rides you like she can’t get enough.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist to steady her. “You’re so fucking good. Keep going, just like that.”

Her moans hitch, turning higher-pitched as she leans back slightly, her head tilting toward the ceiling. “It’s so good,” she whimpers, her voice shaky. “You’re so big—I feel so full.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your fingers pressing harder into her hips. “You like how my cock stretches you, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she cries out, her pace quickening as her thighs tremble around you. “I love it. I love you. It’s too much, I’m—” Her words break off into a sharp gasp, her body shuddering as she continues to bounce, every movement sending jolts of pleasure through both of you.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice rough and low as you watch her fall apart on top of you.

She nods frantically, her hands sliding up to your chest as she leans forward, her petite frame trembling with every movement. “So close,” she breathes, her voice almost a sob. “I can’t—oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Come here,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle as you pull her closer. She leans down, her breasts brushing against your chest, her flushed face inches from yours. You catch her lips in a messy, desperate kiss, your hands sliding up her back to hold her against you. She moans into your mouth, her hips still rocking against yours as you take over.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” you whisper against her lips, your breath hot and heavy. “Hold on tight, baby.”

With that, you adjust your legs on the bed, planting your feet for better leverage. Your hands move to her hips, holding her steady as you start to thrust up into her, hard and fast. The first deep, powerful stroke makes her cry out, her body jolting against yours.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, her voice high-pitched and trembling as you pound into her tight, soaking pussy.

“You like that?” you growl, your thrusts relentless as you drive into her over and over, each one hitting deeper, harder, making her walls squeeze around you like a vice.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes!” she screams, her head dropping onto your shoulder as her nails rake down your back. “I love it! Don’t stop—please don’t stop!”

Her moans are louder now, right in your ear, and fuck, it’s exactly what you need. The sound of her losing herself, the way her voice breaks with every thrust, sends a thrill through you. “That’s it,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “Keep moaning for me, baby. Let me hear how good it feels.”

She doesn’t hold back, her cries spilling out freely as you keep slamming into her, your cock hitting her deep, her pussy clenching tighter with every thrust. “It’s so good,” she babbles, her words slurring together. “You’re so good, so big, I can’t—I’m gonna—oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Come on, Dahyun,” you urge her, your voice low and rough. “Let go. Cum for me. I want to feel you.”

Her body stiffens suddenly, her back arching as she lets out a sharp, broken cry. “Oh fuck!” she screams, her walls clamping down around you as she finally falls over the edge. Her whole body shakes, her hips jerking erratically as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

You keep thrusting into her, your cock buried to the hilt as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy clenches around you in rhythmic pulses, so tight it’s almost painful, but you don’t stop. You grind deeper, chasing that sweet friction even as she squirms, her breath hitching in overstimulated gasps.

“Too much—too much,” she whines, her voice cracking, but her hips jerk forward anyway, betraying her. You can’t see her face in the dark, but you know she’s rolling her eyes—that mix of annoyed and amused she always gets when you push her past her limits.

“You love it,” you growl, slowing just enough to let her catch her breath, your hands pinning her trembling thighs wide. Her skin is slick with sweat, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and her vanilla lotion.

She collapses against your chest, panting, her heartbeat wild against yours. “You’re… insane,” she mutters, but there’s a laugh tangled in her words. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your shoulder, shaky but still teasing.

You smirk, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Not even close to done with you.”

Before she can protest, you flip her onto her back, the mattress groaning as you loom over her. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, heels digging into your ass like she’s already begging for more. The faint glow of lightning spills through the curtains, illuminating her flushed face, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes dark and hungry.

“Gonna fuck you until I fill you up,” you say, voice rough. Your cock twitches, still rock-hard, leaking precum inside her pussy. “You want that? Want me to cum deep inside you?”

Her breath hitches. She bites her lip, her hips tilt upward, inviting. “Yes,” she whispers, then louder, desperate: “Fuck, yes—please, I need it. Need you to—ah—!”

You don’t let her finish. You slam into her, one brutal thrust that steals her voice, her back arching off the bed. She’s so fucking wet, her pussy swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, but she takes you greedily, her nails raking down your spine.

“Harder,” she demands, her legs tightening around you. “Don’t fucking hold back—give it to me.”

You oblige. Your hips piston into her, the slap of skin echoing beneath the storm’s dying growls. Every snap of your pelvis drags a broken moan from her throat, her walls fluttering around you like she’s trying to milk you dry. She’s a mess—hair tangled, chest heaving, tears clinging to her lashes from the intensity—but she’s yours, unraveling again under your hands.

“You feel that?” you grunt, driving deeper, your balls slapping against her ass. “Gonna pump you so full, you’ll drip for days.”

She whimpers, her head thrashing against the pillow. “Do it—fuck, cum in me—I want it, want you—”

You feel it first in your balls—that coiled, electric tension snapping tight as Dahyun’s pussy milks you, her walls fluttering like a fucking vice around your cock. “Gonna cum,” you warn, voice shredded, hips stuttering as you drive into her one last time. She claws at your back, her moans pitching higher. “Do it—fill me up, please—!”

Your release hits like a detonation—thick, pulsing ropes of cum surging deep into her. You groan, low and guttural, as you pump her full, your cock twitching with every hot jet that floods her tight pink cunt. She gasps, her legs shaking where they’re hooked around your waist, her nails digging crescent moons into your skin. “Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice breaking, “it’s so hot—I can feel it—”

You grind your hips harder, burying yourself to the root as your cum spills into her, the wet slap of your skin against hers echoing in the dark. Her pussy clenches greedily, sucking every drop from you, her breath coming in ragged hitches as you fill her. “That’s it,” you rasp, your forehead pressed to hers, “take it all, baby. Take all my fucking cum.”

She keens, her back arching off the mattress as your cum leaks around your cock, dripping down her thighs. The smell of sex—musky and sweet—hangs thick in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rain still clinging to the windows. You collapse onto her, both of you slick with sweat, your chests heaving as you ride out the aftershocks.

Minutes later, the room is quieter the storm outside reduced to a soft, distant hum. Dahyun’s curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin. Your cum is still leaking out of her, pooling between her thighs and staining the sheets, but neither of you care. The mess is part of it—part of this, the raw, unfiltered intimacy that comes after.

You run your fingers through her hair, the strands silky and damp with sweat. She hums softly, her body melting into yours, her legs tangled with yours under the covers. “You good?” you ask, your voice low and rough, but tender.

She tilts her head up to look at you, her big brown eyes glazed but content. “Mm. Better than good,” she murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You?”

“Never better,” you say, brushing a thumb over her cheek. She leans into the touch, her skin warm and flushed.

Her hand trails down your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over your abs. “You know,” she starts, her voice teasing, “you’re kinda insufferable when you’re all… post-sex smug.”

You snort, pulling her closer. “Says the girl who just begged me to fill her up.”

She smacks your chest lightly, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Shut up,” she mutters, though her cheeks flush pink. “I was vulnerable.”

“Uh-huh.” You press a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering against her skin. “And now you’re not scared of the storm anymore, huh?”

She glances toward the window, where the rain taps gently against the glass. “What storm?” she says, her tone light and playful. “I don’t even remember what I was scared of.”

You chuckle, your hand sliding down to rest on her hip. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight.”

She shifts slightly, her body pressing even closer to yours, her warmth seeping into your skin. “Like I’d want to,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your chest.

You smile, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. The room smells like sex and rain, the air thick with the kind of quiet that only comes after something real. Her heartbeat syncs with yours, steady and slow, and for a moment, the world feels perfect.

“You’re my favorite,” she says suddenly, her voice soft but sure.

You glance down at her, raising an eyebrow. “Favorite what?”

“Everything,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Back at you, Dahyunnie,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to her hair.

She sighs, content, her body relaxing completely against yours. Outside, the storm fades into nothing, but inside, it’s just her warmth, your arms, and the quiet promise of more nights like this.

[naburi]

WILL YOU AVAIL ME AGAIN?

DAHYUN X READER

TAGS: DILDO PLAY, LUBE, BODY OIL, TONGUE PLAY, MISSIONARY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DOGGY, ANAL

3.4K WORDS

Midnight and still awake, browsing to find a video that will satisfy you for tonight. It seems like you're looking at identical girls, fake big boobs, slim limbs, small waists. They all look the same which you find boring, not until you found her video. Her smooth thick legs are spread to front her tight pink slit, pleasuring herself in front of the camera, only wearing a face mask to hide her identity. “She looks like my coworker”, you said. Milky white skin, thick legs, broad slim shoulders. You didn’t give too much thought to the similarities not until you saw your coworker later that day.

You’re a young corporate man who can’t find romance to have a meaningful connection. You thought finally finishing college will improve your sex life, but what you found is the opposite. Everyone is busy in the fast paced workplace. Nobody has the time to build relationships, you are all too tired to go out to satisfy your sexual life. That’s why you start to lean on watching adult content. It’s easy, quick, and convenient as you can all have different platforms to have access to numerous adult content creators.

“MS. KIM,” you caught yourself calling Ms. Kim's attention. The thought of the woman you watched last night flashes on your mind. Dahyun looks back, “Hi, Mr. y/n, can I help you?,” she asked politely while still baffled you shouted her name. “I… I… No, I don’t have anything to say,” you say nervously. You don’t even know why you called her name. Feeling embarrassed, you apologize to Dahyun and quickly go back to your cubicle. The woman was left standing processing what just happened.

“It’s her right?” You said to yourself, rushing back home, not even bothered to change clothes. You pull out your phone to go back to the website you found the video. You found her page and surfed through her contents. Her first upload was 6 months ago. She goes from posting just the bottom half of her body, cropped from shoulder up, to revealing her head which still keeps her identity with a white face mask. She consistently uploads every week, most of her videos are just herself playing with her slit with different dildos, she also posts a quick video teaser having an intercourse but you need to subscribe to her page to have access to her adult contents.

Dahyun has a great image in your company. She's the youngest but already has few promotions due to her work ethic and dedication. There are rumors that her quick ascension to the corporate ladder is not because of her hard work but due to what she can do for you after work hours. The rumors didn’t hit the ground enough because of how well she befriended everyone in the company. Her young angelic face helps but what caught everyone’s heart is her bubbly personality that shines bright in the dull and depressing workplace.

It’s been a week now, you took every instance to get an interaction with the company’s princess. From personally passing some documents, to having conversations with someone in her department. Dahyun is not in the same department as you thus making your investigation more complicated. You thought about stalking her social media accounts but all are in private. You started befriending her close coworkers but good things about her are the only thing they talk about. Finding proof that they are the same person seems like an impossible task thus you finally gave up. Nothing would change if you prove that they are the same person, it’s not like you will snitch on the company’s princess after all.

Heavy rain pours just as you’re about to clock out. You and your coworkers are standing outside of the entrance waiting for the rain to die down. A white SUV pulls up in front of you, the driver’s window rolled down, its Ms. Kim, “come inside, I'll drop you off at the subway station.” Some of your coworkers who also take a subway with you ride the SUV. Everyone is too shy to take the passenger seat including you. “You can’t all fit in the back, one should sit beside.” She said, nobody what’s to go in front but they manage to convince you. Sitting tightly on the passenger seat, your colleagues at the back keep asking questions to Ms. Kim, as they also what’s to get close to her, while you’re sitting quietly due to shyness.

Dahyun’s phone that’s on the dashboard lit up revealing a notification. You notice a familiar application icon and the text that says she has a new subscriber. This is the proof that you're looking for, Ms. Kim is an adult content creator. Your colleagues in the back didn’t notice the notification and Dahyun just casually turned down her phone, thinking you don’t know what the notification is all about. Everyone is thanking Ms. Kim for the ride, She noticed how happy you are but not giving more thoughts about it.

Arriving at home, you now have more reason to watch all her contents, you're watching the company’s princess pleasure herself. Everyone's beloved coworker is in an adult site spreading her legs for views and money. It's been a few nights now and her masturbation videos became repetitive. Your high needs satisfaction thus you now subscribe to her paid contents to watch her get fucked by different men, from local Koreans to foreigners, she let herself get fucked to make an content. Her most viewed content is where she pours body oil all over her body which highlights her white skin. Her glowing white oiled up skin, made the sex more erotic. Her buttocks made a heavenly sound as the guy is hitting her from behind, her small oiled boobs get massaged sensually before she takes the cock inside her again. Dahyun wails and moans under her face mask as she gets fuck harder. The few bucks you spend for her content is worth it.

You smile and interact with Ms. Kim during the day while touching yourself watching her contents at night, this has become your routine until she has not been in the office for a few consecutive days now. Nobody knows why she’s absent for a few days now and her manager doesn’t want to disclose her reason. Watching her videos doesn’t hit the mark anymore. You’re about to go sleep but a notification pops up on your screen. Dahyun just dropped a new subscription based content. You can subscribe to her live stream where you can select what kind of dildos she will use and what position she will do a live masturbation. How this works is you're gonna give her gifts during the stream for her to follow your instructions.

She announced that the live stream will start tomorrow at midnight. You’re one of the first subscribers that’s in her live, her legs spread open just like the first time you saw her content. Her one hand is caressing her slit while her other hand is fondling her breast, Different sizes of dildos and lubes lined up to her right side. One viewer starts giving gifts with his comments on the stream. She asked Dahyun to use a thick dildo. She lubes the dildo and slowly inserts it in her slit. The thickness of it gives her a hard time as her slit didn’t even get to warm up. Few attempts pass by and she finally gets to put it all inside her, she starts to moan as she’s pumping the thick dildo inside her.

“Use the tentacle dildo and sit on it,” one commented. Dahyun reads this as she gets notified for the gift. She poured lube to the dildo and started stroking it to spread the lube. She sticks it in front of the screen as she slowly impales herself in the tentacle shaped dildo. The unusual shape gives Dahyun a different sensation making her more horny, she grabs both of her boobs as she’s sitting up and down to the dildo. She started to play with her boobs without even an instruction. She’s massaging her under boobs upward then focusing her fingers on her nipples. One of the viewers commented that she should use oil as she’s caressing her boobs. Dahyun follows, quickly pouring oil on her chest, smothering it all over her boobs, her boobs massages get more erotic due to how smooth she caresses her two mounds.

“Use the black dildo, in your anal, sit on it” a viewer commented. The black dildo is noticeably inspired by a big black cock, it's shaped like one and in great detail. Dahyun uses two hands just to pour lube all over the dildo. She turned her back to the camera as she’s slowly sitting on it. Her big butt is now in full view, the sight of her ass taking the big black dildo is too erotic, Dahyun groans as her ass is getting stretched. The viewers are praising her on how erotic she is, they commented that her moans are heavenly. They keep giving gifts even without instructions as they are pleased with what she’s doing.

To your surprised, Ms. Kim is finally back in the office. Everyone greets her and wants to know the reason for her absences. You're happy to see your colleague but you’re too embarrassed to greet her as you know the real reasons why she’s having a hard time walking around the office. You heard that she’s saying to your coworkers that she has a sprained ankle is the reason she can’t walk straight. Nobody bats an eye as the company is just glad to finally see their bubbly princess.

You thought everything goes back to normal but it’s been a week now and Ms. Kim has nowhere to be found, her manager said that she filed for a long leave due to personal reasons. You took the subway with heavy feet as you’re saddened by the news, it seems like you developed an affectionate attitude towards your colleague and just wants to see her do well again. After taking a bath as an attempt to lift your mood. You saw a notification from Dahyun’s page. She’s offering a VIP subscription where you can meet her face to face. This subscription comes with a hefty price and you need to abide by 5 sets of conditions: you can’t remove her face mask during the session, you can’t asked for an oral sex, you can’t ask for her personal information, you can’t record anything during the session, you should wear protection during intercourse.

You didn’t waste any time and avail her VIP subscription even though it’s worth half of your monthly salary. After sending your payment. You received a message where she sends you a time and date where you can meet her. It’s on Saturday afternoon, in one of the hotels in the city. The sudden realization that Dahyun will know that you’re one of her subscribers sent you into a frenzy. You don’t want to cancel your meet up as this golden opportunity may not knock again.

It’s Friday night, you do a quick shopping for self care materials as you want to look good and smell good when you finally do it with Dahyun. You are embarrassed to buy packs of condoms as it’s been ages since you last bought one. It’s the day of the meet up. She sends you a message that she will wait for you in the room. You're now in front of the hotel, standing nervously while wearing… a face mask. You plan to also somehow conceal your identity to Ms. Kim because you don’t want to destroy your working relationship with her. This plan fails miserably as Dahyun can’t hide her shock expression the moment she opens the room door.

There’s an awkward air in the hotel room. It seems like the two of you might not do it out of embarrassment. The silence in the room was broken by a pop up message on her phone. You notice how her expression changed as she read the message. Whatever is in the message is enough for Dahyun to ignore that her coworker will share the same bed as her. She laid her conditions in a serious tone as she removed her clothing, sitting naked on the center of the bed waiting for you to make a move on her.

You strip down your clothes in nervousness while only leaving the face mask. You awkwardly sit in front of the naked woman. You look in her eyes to see her expressions, but she doesn’t have any, it looks like she’s ready for whatever you want to do with her. You first touch her boobs, your two hands awkwardly reach to her mounds, carefully playing it. Dahyun knows that both of you will get satisfied with you still being cautious. “Mr. Y/n, I know it’s you, you can remove your face mask and do me as you please,” she said finally addressing the elephant in the room.

Dahyun’s message wakes you out of your nervousness. You’re here fuck the company’s princess and that’s what you do, you remove your face move and instructed her to lay down. The woman that you have been watching every night is not laying down in front of you. You position yourself on top of her reaching her two boobs again but this time, caressing them like how they deserve. Dahyun's boobs perfectly fit her body, and shaped her body to great proportions. The woman groans on how aggressive you mauled her boobs but you can’t help yourself due to how soft they are. Her pink nipples that you saw her playing on her content are now in the tip of your own fingers.

Dahyun yelps as you play her nipples. This encourages you to use your tongue to pleasure one of them. Flicking her nipple in a circular motion she grabs your hair to press your head even closer to her boobs. You notice that Dahyun also brings her toys with her. You reached out for her bag on the side table, from watching her oiled body to being the one pouring it to her. You pour directly on her nipples which caught her off guard by the wet sensation. From her nipples to her boobs, you massaged her body, smearing the oil in the process. Her white milky skin glistening, her smooth skin gets slippery making it easy to caress the rest of her body.

You pour oil down to her legs as well, massaging her thick legs, your fingertips move dangerously close to her slit which elicits a gasp from Dahyun as she’s anticipating it. You notice how she got wet after you massage her legs. You lick her slit up to taste your colleague. Dahyun keeps moaning as your tongue explores her slit. From her slit up to her clit, you lick every part of it, making your goal to eat Dahyun well. Your tongue focuses on flicking her clit, the woman jolts her hips in pleasure. You hold down her waist to keep her in place while continuing your barrage on her clit. You notice wetness in your chin due to Dahyun getting more wet. You hardened your tongue now and inserts in and out of her slit. The woman pushes your head down even more, while her other hand is stimulating her clit. You suck and lick your colleagues till she shakes her hips due to orgasm.

Dahyun is laying down letting her orgasm flow till she feels your tongue is now exploring her ass. Her ass is as pink as her slit, you spit on it as lube before you slowly lick her ass. Her legs started to move uncontrollably as she’s not used to her ass getting licked. From soft circular motions to fast in and out of her ass, every touch of your tongue elicits a loud moan from Dahyun. You notice she used one of her dildos to rub her slit while you're eating her down there. This signals to you that she’s ready.

You stand up to wear a condom while Dahyun can’t wait as she’s already shoving a dildo in her slit while she’s waiting for you. You smirk as your naughty colleague can’t wait any longer. Spreading her legs up. You position your cock in front of her slit that still has a dildo inside it. You pull the dildo out of her and it reveals how her slit forms into a hole that accommodates the size of the dildo. Dahyun is looking at your cock seamlessly entering her slit. The feeling of a warm cock can’t beat any size or shape of a dildo she thought. You hold her small waist as you gradually quicken up the pace. Hands on her face masks to cover her mouth, she’s embarrassed how her coworker can make her moan this load. Her muffled moan only adds to your fuel to fuck the company’s princess like she’s your slut.

You hear Dahyun calling your name through her covered mouth, her walls tightening, the woman is near her orgasm. You now hold her wide hips to get a better grip of her as you rammed your cock deep inside her as face as you could. Dahyun let go of her mouth to let a loud moan echo all throughout the room. You let her orgasm again while your cock is still inside her. Pulling out, you want to keep her slit stimulated. You put the dildo back inside her as you asked Dahyun to masturbate using her dildo while you fuck her from behind. You position her in a doggy position, her ass still wet from your tongue assault earlier on. She felt your tip bump in the entrance of her ass. Dahyun’s face is in the bedsheet, one hand plowing the dildo in her slit, she felt your warm cock slowly entering her ass. The woman groans lowly as she’s taking it all deep in her. Dahyun tight ass is no Joke, even though this ass takes the biggest of dildos, it’s still tight like it’s begging to get worn down. Dahyun has a big white ass which is impaled with your cock. Every slap to her meaty ass leaves a red mark of your hand. You both groaned as you started to move your cock in and out of her. You remember the endless nights you watched this big ass of her get fucked by dildos or other men, but for this moment, it’s yours to destroy. You plow your cock slowly and deep in her ass making sure your tip reaches as deep as your can. Dahyun is now biting her face mask, muffling her cries of pleasure. You began to move your cock at a quicker pace which made Dahyun speak inaudibly. She can’t move her dildo anymore as she’s getting too stimulated on how you fuck her ass. You’re now maintaining a quick pace plowing her ass, Dahyun cries your name as all she knows now is how your cock pleasuring all parts of her tight ass. She tried to reach for your arm that is holding her hips to signal you that she can’t take it anymore. Dahyun is about to turn into a mess. Her body drops on the bed but you still keep fucking her ass. Dahyun doesn't know how long it has been but she noticed when you asked her if you can cum on her back. She can only muffled a “Yes,” before you remove your cock in her ass and spray paint her back with all your cum.

The woman fell asleep for a few minutes before sitting up like she’s in a hurry. She asked if she could leave now, still catching your breath. You agreed to leave together. “I need money, my brother is sick, he will undergo operations next week,” Dahyun said as she’s driving you to the subway station. Without asking a question, she answered what you’re terrified to ask. You listen to her story while she’s driving you to the subway station. Her parents are too old to work, her family is only dependent on her. She asked if you can keep this between the two of you. She said she will go back to work after her brother’s operation.

“Will you avail me again?” Dahyun jokingly asked.

[myth1cs]

School Meal Club (Kim Dahyun, Son Chaeyoung, Chou Tzuyu x M!Reader)

Smut;

The joke option I put on the poll winning was not my intention and yet here we are. I gotta take a union mandate 1 month break after writing this. (Also anon, I added your ask but left out some of it.)

Word Count: 3,417

You would have been content not being in any school clubs, but your parents wanted you to be involved in at least one school club so you could put it in a resume or when applying to colleges. You wanted to argue but you knew you couldn't change their minds.

Today clubs set up stations in the gym and you - along with the rest of your third period - got to go to the gym to possibly apply to join one of them. A few of them were after school clubs, and since you didn't want to stay in school longer than you had to you stayed away from them.

Many club booths had a good chunk of people around them but you saw that a certain booth had nobody standing around it. Three girls were behind the booth looking a little demotivated. Since no other club peaked your interest you decided to head to their booth.

The smaller girl's eyes seemed to light up as she noticed that you were making your way to their booth.

"Hey you there, wanna join the school meal club?!"

"Don't yell at him Chaeyoung you're going to scare him off!" The slightly taller member said.

You walked closer to their booth and introduced yourself.

"Hey my name's Y/N. What's this club about?"

The second tallest woman cleared her throat "Let me introduce myself my name is Dahyun and I'm the president of the school meal club, she's Chaeyoung, and she's Tzuyu. It's our job to help prepare the school meals as the name suggests. If you join it'll replace your third period and you'll get your own uniform. So what do you say Y/N?"

"How many people are in your club?"

Dahyun started sweating a bit.

"Well it's just us three but-"

Only three members? That's the bare minimum requirement to have in a club. You didn't want to be in a club barely anyone was in but then again the other clubs were after school related.

"I'll join your club."

The three girls eyes lit up and they went over to you and hugged you. "Thank you Y/N! The principal told us he'd shut down our club if we couldn't get another member to join!" Dahyun exclaimed.

"You just saved our club we couldn't be more thankful!" Tzuyu said.

The sudden hug surprised you a bit. You looked around to see if anybody was seeing what was happening but nobody was paying attention.

All three of them pulled away and Dahyun held her hand in front of you. "Y/N as president of the school meal club let me welcome you."

"급!" (School)

"식!" (Meal)

"단!" (Club)

"급식단!" (School Meal Club!)

"얘들아 우리.. 다시 하자.." (We're not in sync! ... Again.) (Dahyun)

"너무 오랜만에 했어!" (It's been a while!) (Chaeyoung)

Seeing the members argue about saying the chant correctly made you giggle a little. Maybe joining the club wouldn't be so bad after all.

-

The next day marked your first day at the school meal club.

"Y/N I'm so glad you made it here."

"Yeah you are, you were telling us how worried you were that Y/N might not actually show up."

Dahyun's face turned red.

"Shut it Tzuyu! You were the one-"

Tzuyu covered Dahyun's mouth and cleared her throat.

"Anyways Y/N your uniform will be here in about a month so until then you're free to wear whatever. But when it does come in you will be expected to wear it while you're at the club, got it?"

"I understand."

"Ew why did you start licking my hand?!"

"It was the only way to get it off my mouth."

"You're so gross Dahyun."

Even though you have only seen them interact with each other for a short while you could tell they were really good friends with each other.

"Where's Chaeyoung?"

"We're waiting for her. She has to come in from the band room so it usually takes her a while before she gets in here." Dahyun replied.

Not too long after Dahyun said that Chaeyoung came running into the room. She was clearly out of breath as she spoke "I got here as fast as I could."

"That's odd you usually take a few more minutes to get here."

"I didn't want to be as late on the first day our new member works."

Chaeyoung reached her hand out to you and you shook her hand.

"I know we did this yesterday but I want to introduce myself again to you. Hello Y/N I'm Son Chaeyoung and welcome to the school meal club. We're all happy to have you here."

"I'm glad to be working with you all."

"Chaeyoung and Tzuyu you guys know what to do. I'll show Y/N what his role is."

"Understood president" Chaeyoung and Tzuyu said before they left you alone with Dahyun.

"So Y/N let me take you to where you'll be working."

While you two were walking you decided to try to mingle a little with the leader of the group.

"So what do you and the others do here?"

"Well I do all the planning for what the students will have on what day. Chaeyoung unloads all the ingredients and sets them in their respective place, Tzuyu makes all the meals. Of course we don't do it all on our own we have the cafeteria workers helping us to. We just lend a helping hand."

You two finally arrived at the destination which seemed to be the kitchen. "What's my role?"

"You'll be washing the trays which before I did alone but now you'll be helping me!"

"Wait don't we have like 400 students in the building?"

"Yup so we better get to cleaning huh?"

Half an hour passed by and you two had a good chunk of trays washed. You were getting tired and felt your hands skin getting dry. "Can we take a break Dahyun?"

"Hm well I guess it wouldn't hurt especially since we're almost done anyways."

Dahyun turned off the sink and you both went to sit down in the empty cafeteria.

"You know Y/N we're going to be graduating in the same year and yet I can't help but notice that we've never talked before."

"Well I don't think we have any classes together."

"You're right. Wanna maybe hangout at my place after school? You seem like a good person. I wanna get to know you more Y/N."

The sudden offer stunned you for a bit. Usually you were friends with someone for a few months before they invited you to their house and yet here was Dahyun inviting you over to her house on the second day of knowing her.

"I'd love to." You replied. It was rather quick and sounded eager, you hoped Dahyun didn't notice.

"Here give me your phone. I'll text you my address!"

-

You didn't like the lunch break that much. It seemed like the school administration was out to get you since all your friends get put in the same lunch period yet you were the only one to have a different lunch period. As you were looking for an empty seat you heard someone call out to you.

"Y/N is that you?"

You looked behind you and saw that it was Tzuyu.

"Tzuyu, I didn't know we had the same lunch shift."

"I didn't either until I saw you here. Wanna have lunch together?"

"I'd love to, are we going to sit with the rest of the school meal club?"

"Oh no we won't have lunch here. Let's have lunch in the basement."

"We're not supposed to leave the cafeteria."

"I'm sorry I didn't know you were such a stickler for the rules Y/N. Are you coming with me or not?"

"Alright fine I'm coming."

Tzuyu led you to the school basement that went mainly unused. You weren't too fond of it as it didn't really smell the best. Why did Tzuyu eat lunch here anyways?

"Why are we having lunch here?"

"Nobody comes down here except the janitor after school ends. Plus there aren't any cameras down here."

Tzuyu led you to an empty classroom. It smelled less than pleasing and was rather dusty. It seemed Tzuyu didn't mind and sat down at an empty desk and motioned you to sit next to her. After sitting next to her you looked at her as if expecting her to say something.

"Something wrong Y/N are you not hungry?"

"Uhm why are we eating here, isn't it rather gross?"

"Clean freak are you?"

"I'm not, but this is a bit gross don't you think?"

"I guess."

A short silence fell between the both of you until Tzuyu spoke up.

"Are you hungry for dessert Y/N?"

"Not really?"

"Come on Y/N don't be like that just say yes"

You weren't sure where this was going but you decided to go along with it. "Yes."

With your affirmation Tzuyu started to take off her pants.

"Don't worry Y/N I'll give you the best dessert you've ever had."

It suddenly clicked in your head on why took you to a secluded area

Tzuyu moved your lunch tray and sat on top of your desk. Her pussy was right in front of you.

"Desserts here Y/N!"

Her pink wet pussy was showing in front of you and it made your cock hard. You grabbed her legs and shoved yourself into her pussy. Shoving your tongue in as deep as it could. You were able to taste her sweet fluids. You slurped them up so greedily.

"So needy aren't you Y/N? There's a lot more where this came from."

Tzuyu's pussy clenched around your tongue as she started to rub her clit and she purposely moaned as loud as possible. Not that she was worried about being heard all the way from the basement.

You slipped your hands under Tzuyu's shirt and moved them towards her breasts. But Tzuyu grabbed your hands before you could touch them.

"Naughty hands you have there Y/N. How about we save these for next time we fuck?"

As much as you wanted to grab Tzuyu's breast it was probably for the better that you didn't get to touch everything. It gave you something to look forward to.

A muffled "Yes" left your mouth. You continued licking the sweet liquids coming out of Tzuyu until she came on your mouth.

Her cum tasted better than her juice.

"Ah fuck your tongue is so good Y/N!"

"Your cum tastes amazing."

You got up and kissed Tzuyu on her lips. She tasted her own cum which wasn't her favorite activity but she let it slide. You started to slide your tongue into her mouth.

To your surprise Tzuyu's tongue play was really good. Not that you had experience but you could definitely tell she had done this before.

"Have you done this before?" You asked as you pulled back.

Tzuyu nodded "I've done this a few times with Chaeyoung. Please don't tell Dahyun about this though."

"I'll keep quiet."

"We should really get out of the basement though. Lunch is about to end."

Those words left you a little disappointed. You wanted to do more with her but you always had tomorrow.

-

You were working in the pottery room alone. The other students in art class were in the main art room working on another project.

The door to the pottery room opened and you were surprised to see Chaeyoung walk in. "Chaeyoung, why are you here?"

"I left my sketchbook here during 5th period. Have you seen it?"

"No I haven't."

Chaeyoung started to look around the room. As she was looking you noticed her petite small figure, more specifically how much it turned you on. You tried to push the lewd thoughts away and focus on your pottery project.

"Ah here it is!" Chaeyoung picked up her sketchbook and turned to look at you.

"Hey Y/N can I ask a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Well I've been trying to work on a sketch but I need a reference. Can you pose for me?"

Couldn't take too long right?

"Sure, what pose do you need me to do?"

"Get on the table." Chaeyoung said as she pointed at an empty table. You quickly washed your hands and sat on the table.

"I need you to put on a blindfold."

"Why?"

"I'm trying to draw someone who's blindfolded and naked."

You thought she was joking with you but you could see that she was being serious. "We're in school."

"You're right." Chaeyoung went to close and lock the door before she went back to you. "We should be good now."

"That's not what I meant."

"So you won't help me with my art?"

Chaeyoung sounded disappointed. You didn't want her to be upset at you so you agreed "I'll help you."

"You will?"

"I will."

She handed you the blindfold and started to take off your pants. You put the blindfold on then started to take off your shirt. You couldn't see it but Chaeyoung was smiling when she saw your naked body blindfolded.

"Let me fix your position Y/N."

She put her hands on your body and started to 'adjust' it. Your cock was growing and you knew Chaeyoung could see it.

"Your cock here is very hard. I'm not trying to draw someone with an erected cock, mind if I relieve you real quick?"

"Do what you have to." Your voice was a bit shaky as you responded.

Chaeyoung put her small hand on your growing cock and started to give it a few pumps. She licked your balls which made you shiver. She enjoyed seeing you react this way and give your balls a few more licks.

Your cock was as hard as it could be and Chaeyoung was rather shocked at how big it was. She spat on your cock before she put it in her small tight mouth. Her tongue glided down your cock. You did your best to hold your moans knowing that people might hear you. But you'd be lying if you said that didn't add to the excitement.

Chaeyoung sucked on your sensitive tip. All of this was making her wet. "Y/N your cock is so much better than my boyfriends cock!"

"You- you have a boyfriend?"

"Mhm but his cock isn't as big as yours."

The sudden confession that she's cheating on her boyfriend was the final straw that made you cum in her mouth. So much cum spilled out that some of it overflowed out of Chaeyoung's small mouth.

She swallowed everything she could and used her fingers to get the cum that overflowed back in her mouth. She got up and removed your blindfold. You struggled to adjust to the light for a bit. Once you did Chaeyoung showed you her empty mouth.

"I swallowed it all."

"Chaeyoung that was amazing."

She kissed your forehead.

"Looks like class is almost over so I should get going."

"What about your art?"

"Oh yeah, I lied about that."

-

Once school ended you texted your mom that you would be visiting a friends house and she texted you that she was fine with it.

You arrived at Dahyun's house and knocked on the door. After a few seconds she opened the door and answered. "Y/N I'm glad you came, come in!"

"Not like I had anything else to do." you thought as you went inside.

Once you walked in you noticed that Chaeyoung and Tzuyu were also there. "You invited the rest of the school meal club?"

"Yeah, I thought this could be a bonding moment."

It felt awkward being seeing Tzuyu and Chaeyoung again. You've had sex with both of them without telling that you've had sex with the other. "Hey"

"Come sit next to me Y/N!"

"I think Y/N wants to sit next to me Chaeyoung."

"Well I think I know him better than you!"

"I'm sure I know him way better than you ever could!"

"Guys guys calm down. Let Y/N sit where he wants."

Dahyun sat down on the sofa and they all looked at you to see who you would sit next to.

You sat next to Dahyun.

Both Chaeyoung and Tzuyu looked disappointed. Dahyun tried to lighten to mood.

"Let's play Mario Kart! But with a twist." Dahyun said.

"What's that?" Tzuyu asked.

"The winner gets to pick a punishment for the losers!"

"That sounds fun, any obligations?"

Neither you or Chaeyoung had issues with it.

"Not like I'll lose."

"Tzuyu I could beat you even if I had my controller upside down!"

The game was intense but in the end Chaeyoung won because a blue shell hit Tzuyu letting her get first place on the fourth race.

"I won!"

"You got lucky!"

While Tzuyu got 2nd and Chaeyoung got 1st in the final rankings you and Dahyun got a respective 5th and 6th.

"As the winner I'll choose the punishments. Tzuyu follow me to the kitchen."

You and Dahyun went with Tzuyu to see what Chaeyoung would make her do.

"Eat a spoonful of mayonnaise."

"Gross, I'm not doing that!"

"You agreed to the terms Tzuyu."

Tzuyu groaned as she put mayonnaise on a spoon and swallowed it all quickly. She quickly grabbed a cup of water and drank it all.

"That's so gross!"

Chaeyoung got a good laugh out of Tzuyu's pain.

"Alright now for Dahyun. Hmm.. you're claustrophobic right?"

"Yeah?"

"You and Y/N have to be in a closet for... let's say three minutes."

"Chaeyoung isn't that a bit much?"

"I'll be fine Y/N.My claustrophobia isn't that bad."

Dahyun seemed okay but you were a bit worried for her. Still, you both got in a closet and Chaeyoung yelled "I'll open the door in three minutes."

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments.

"So uhm... I bet you didn't think your afternoon would be spent like this Y/N."

"Can't say I did."

Your bodies were so close to each other the two of you could feel the others breath. This closeness made you realize Dahyun's features her hourglass body, her thighs, her smooth skin. It made your cock throb a bit, but who could blame you? After all you were so close to such a beautiful person.

"Y/N are you poking me?"

You weren't sure what she was talking about until you realized your erected cock was touching Dahyun.

"Ah~ I'm sorry Dahyun!"

Dahyun looked down and realized what was poking her. "It's so big. Can I touch it?"

The request shocked you, Dahyun didn't seem like the type of girl to engage in lewd acts but you weren't about to deny her.

"Go ahead."

She slid your pants and underwear off and took hold of your hard cock. She rubbed her hands on it making your cock as big and hard as it could. "I want this inside me, can you put it in me Y/N?"

You shook your head.

In the confined space Dahyun turned around and slid her pants and panties off. Your erected cock slid in her ass and you made slow pumps in and out.

"Ah~ so good Y/N."

One of your hands reached for her small breasts while the other groped her perfect ass. It squeezed your cock so hard you had difficulties pulling it out.

You kissed her neck making Dahyun let out soft moans. Softly squeezing her breasts you heard her breath hitch as you molded them as you wanted, but you were careful not to hurt her.

The closet door flung open and before Chaeyoung could say that the three minutes were up her jaw dropped when she saw you fucking the school meal club leader. "Dahyun, Y/N, what the fuck!"

Tzuyu entered the room shortly after "Why are you- Y/N?!"

"It's not-"

"I didn't let you eat my pussy just for you to go and fuck Dahyun behind me back!"

"Wait he fucked you to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N fucked me in the pottery room."

Both Chaeyoung and Tzuyu looked at you upset. You and Dahyun stayed silent as both looked at the pair argue.

"I think there's only one way to make it right. You thinking what I'm thinking Chaeyoung?"

"I am... come on Y/N we're having a foursome!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I thought my days of writing multiple people were behind me. Yet they pull me back in.

Starring: You Dahyun, Chaeyoung, Tzuyu (Twice)

[coldfanbou]

Waking Up To Something

A little Dubu for you all. She's very sweet here. Also you have no idea how hard it was to go against the slutty student Dubu thoughts that kept creeping in.

Length 2.6K

Dahyun X Mreader

“Wake up! What are you doing? Hurry!” Groggily opening your eyes, you look to the side, and Dahyun shakes you. “We have school! Wake up!”  You try to wave Dahyun off, but she refuses to let you return to your peaceful slumber. Dahyun huffs, seeing that you won’t get up. She straddles you and grabs your shoulders as she shakes you back and forth. “We don’t have time for this!” She whines.

“Mmm, fine.” You grumble, finally sitting up. You shut your eyes for a moment, still sleepy. You feel Dahyun’s weight move off you, and when you open your eyes again, she grabs your clothes from your closet. You look her up and down, seeing her in her school uniform. That’s when you remember that today was the first day of school. With a burst of energy, you get up and shoo Dahyun out of the room, pushing her out while grabbing your pants from her hands.

“Hey!”

“No time; we have school,” you tell her as you rush to put on your uniform. 

Dahyun pounds on the door, “That’s what I tried to tell you!” The door stops shaking, and you hear Dahyun walk away. You finish getting dressed and grab your things before rushing to the front. Dahyun is anxiously tapping her feet, staring at the clock hanging on the far wall. Noticing that you finally came down, she jumps to her feet and grabs your hand, rushing you both out the door and to school. “We’re going to be so late because of you!” She shouts, running as fast as she can. “It’s our first day back, and we’re going to be late!” She says, looking over her shoulder at you, her frustration evident in her voice.

“You could have gone without me!” You shout back, picking up speed and running past her. You grab Dahyun’s hand; it’s her turn to be dragged around. 

“You wouldn’t even know today was the first day if I hadn’t come!” Dahyun tries to keep pace with you, her backpack swinging from side to side. 

“You’re going to slow!” You slow down, waiting for Dahyun to pass you. You pick her up as soon as she does, carrying her bridal style as you continue your mad dash to school. Dahyun smacks you before covering her eyes, embarrassed to be carried around like this. You make it to school and run to your classroom with Dahyun, the bell ringing just before you enter. Both you and Dahyun hang your heads in defeat as the teacher calls you out for being late, but there's also a sense of relief that you made it. Taking your seat next to Dahyun, she quietly scolds you for not waking up earlier. 

During lunch, Dahyun continues, “You do this every year. You don’t realize it's the first day, and we end up coming in late.”

“I told you. You don’t have to wake me up.”

“I do; that’s what a friend does.” Dahyun retorts. “We’ve been friends for years, and you just don’t learn. What do I have to do live with you?” There’s frustration in her voice. You know what you have to do to calm her down. You pull a small piece of chocolate from your pocket and hand it to her. “That’s not enough. I need more,” Dahyun says, staring at you.

“Seriously?” By the look in her eye, she is more than serious. You grab another piece and hand it to her. Dahyun smirks as she unwraps one of the chocolate pieces, munching on it with a big smile. 

“You know what? I’ve decided. I’m going to live with you now. Our parents will be completely fine with it. We’ve known each other for years, after all.” 

“I really don’t want that.” 

“Too bad,” Dahyun says, eating the second chocolate. As the bell rings for the end of lunch, the two of you head back to class. 

At the end of the day, you return home together. You walk into your home, and Dahyun into hers. A few hours go by before you hear the sound of something rolling into the house. As you come downstairs, you see Dahyun with her parents and a couple of suitcases. “You can’t be serious,” you say to her.

“I told you,” she replies. You all sit down and have a conversation, and your parents agree to let Dahyun sleep in the spare room. Dahyun nudges your leg. “I’ll make lots of noise in the morning, so you have to wake up,” she whispers. You don’t feel happy about having Dahyun live with you, thinking of it as unnecessary. 

The first week of living with Dahyun went well enough. It felt odd, but you thought you would get used to it. One morning, you woke up early.  You head to the bathroom, still tired and barely aware of the world around you. Dahyun was on the other side of the bathroom door. You both stood there for a moment, not moving. Your eyes are glued to her body for those few seconds. They move up her body, her pale skin still dripping with the water from her shower. You pass over her pink cunt; with her pale skin, it stands out. As do her nipples that stood at attention, stiff from the room’s cold air. You were getting hard, and Dahyun noticed. The few seconds you had to look at her body ran out. Dahyun covered her body with a towel, and you shut the door, staying on the outside. You told Dahyun how sorry you were before heading to your room.

The rest of the day was awkward between you. When you returned home, Dahyun went straight to her room, not saying a word to you. That night, though, she came to your room, knocking quietly on the door. “Come in,” she said. 

Dahyun opened the door slowly, walking inside without a word and sitting on your bed. Silence reigns over you both. Neither of you wants to say the first word. Then you both speak at once, and you give Dahyun the chance to speak. “I want to talk about this morning.” You nod along, knowing it was a conversation you needed to have. You apologize to Dahyun again and let her continue. “I…noticed that…” Dahyun mulls over her thoughts, clasping her hands together as she figures out what to say. “This isn’t how I wanted to do it, but I feel like I have to.” Dahyun turns to face you. “I like you… romantically.” You’re stunned and confused because you thought Dahyun would never be interested in you like that. Dahyun taps her hands along her leg, taking a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, to be honest. It’s the reason I put up with you.” Dahyun says, a nervous smile growing on her. “ I-look, I forgive you for walking in on me this morning. I just want to get even, so you should show me your cock.” She said in a half-joking tone. You could tell Dahyun was trying to avoid the real conversation.

You stand up, stripping naked in front of Dahyun without a word before sitting back down. You notice Dahyun’s body tense up. It’s odd being nude in front of Dahyun, unnatural, but you chose to do it so you could continue without her holding anything against you. As ridiculous as that may sound, it made sense to you, considering you know Dahyun would try to keep the conversation going at that point. “You love me, Dahyun?”

She stumbles over her words; Dahyun is in complete shock that you are naked in front of her. She couldn’t help but look at your cock. Her eyes wander back to it no matter how many times she pries her eyes away. She gives you a nod, gulping as she tries to focus on something else. “I, um, please put your clothes back on. I can’t talk to you otherwise.” Dahyun blurts out, turning her head. You cloth yourself, telling Dahyun she can look. Seeing you fully clothed, Dahyun takes a deep breath. “Okay, now I can talk. I do love you, and I don’t know; after you saw me naked, I sort of felt like I had to confess. I noticed that you got hard, d-did you like my body?” You nod, feeling the heat rush to your face and getting too embarrassed to speak. “I thought so, but it’s not the only reason you like me, right?”

“Dahyun, this is the first time I’ve seen it.” You smack the top of her head lightly. “Of course not. I like you for you, you goofball. Honestly, I never thought you liked me like that. I don’t know where to go from here. What should we do?” 

Dahyun scoots closer, taking your hand in hers. She stares into your eyes, gathering her courage. Silently, she leans in and presses her lips against yours. It feels right, and you both fill it with passion. You push forward, knocking Dahyun onto her back as your kiss continues. She hesitantly wraps her hands around your neck, holding you close as your hands wander to her waist. When you run out of breath, you break the kiss. Your room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Dahyun gulps, bringing herself up for another kiss. “We can go all the way if you want. I trust you.” 

“Are you sure?”

Dahyun nods, a soft smile on her face, “I want you. I want to be with you.” Dahyun moves her hand to her shirt, unbuttoning her pajamas slowly as you remain over her. As the last button slips away, she pulls her shirt apart to reveal her upper body. Seeing your eyes stick to her chest, Dahyun smiles and feels more confident. You lean down, getting closer to her chest. You plant tiny kisses on her mounds; they make Dahyun shudder. She turns her head to the side, making her gasps known before shutting her eyes. Dahyun focuses on the sensations, ingraining in her memory the feel of your hands on her breasts, the way you’re circling her nipple with your thumb. She bites her lip, enjoying the pleasure. 

You stop in your tracks, staring at Dahyun until she opens her eyes. “Why did you stop.”

“I want to know if you really want this.”

Dahyun feels her heart about to beat out of her chest. She wishes you hadn’t asked that question; putting her on the spot scared her as if she was about to make a leap of faith. “I’m sure,” she says softly. Dahyun reaches down, lifting her hips off the bed as beginning to pull off her pajama pants. You help Dahyun, pulling them completely off her. 

The sight of a beautiful woman, much less Dahyun, in your bed, was something you wouldn’t have thought would happen at the beginning of the day, but here she was. She’s left solely in her panties, a pink pair that suited her well. There was a wet spot on them. Dahyun covers her face as you pull her panties down, her heart racing as she bares her body to you again. 

You strip down before climbing over Dahyun. The soft fragrance of her perfume hits you as you stare at her body. You take in every detail, leaving nothing amiss as you grab her thighs and move them further apart. Hesitantly, you rub your between her wet folds, coating it in her nectar. Dahyun grabs one of your pillows, moaning into it. You take the pillow from her, tossing it to the side before cupping her cheeks and kissing her again. Her eyes flutter, and she mutters, “I love you.” You prepare yourself taking a deep breath as you press your cock against her entrance. You look into her eyes as you push in. You take her hands, holding them as you slowly move in; her walls squeeze your cock. You grunt and groan as you bury yourself inside Dahyun. She gasps, feeling you inside her. Dahyun wraps her legs around your waist. “I don’t want you pulling out,” she moans. 

Dahyun wraps her arms around you, holding you against her as you begin moving. Dahyun feels you move; your cock hits deep, making her cry out. Your thrusts begin slow, allowing her to adjust before gaining speed. Soon, you were pistoning in and out of Dahyun, chasing your orgasm. Dahyun bites her lips, trying to stay quiet. “Kiss me, please,” she whines. 

You give her as much, pressing your lips against hers and letting her moan into it. Her walls squeezed you, and you felt her nipples grow hard as they rubbed against your chest. You squeeze her soft thighs, feeling the plump flesh rebound as you move your hands to her breasts. You’re both quickly approaching your climax; your constant thrusts make Dahyun whimper, and her nails dig into your back. You hold the kiss, keeping her cry muffled as your walls clamp down on your cock. The pleasure becomes unbearable, and you find yourself cumming inside Dahyun as she pushes you in deeper with her legs. 

Her walls milk you, coaxing your cum out and funneling it into her womb. When Dahyun’s voice grows quiet, you break the kiss. “You came inside me,” she says with a smile. Dahyun caresses your cheek, a tired look on her face. Too tired to continue, you lay your head on her chest, drifting off to sleep along while still inside her. 

You wake the following morning to the sounds of someone slurping. As you look down at your body, you see Dahyun between her legs, bobbing her head. You let out a moan, signaling to her that you were awake. She pulls back, stroking your shaft with her soft hand, “Good morning, sleepyhead. We have school soon, so you better hurry up.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, enjoying how her hand moves along your shaft.

Dahyun looks down, shy and embarrassed. “I thought you would want me to wake you up like this instead. It’s what a girlfriend would do, right?” Dahyun is looking for approval and a way to mask her desires. 

You play along, nodding. “Yeah, thanks, Dahyun. This is a lot better than shaking me awake.” Dahyun smiles at you and bends over, wrapping her lips around your cock, her tongue clumsily swirling around the tip. She bobs her head slightly, unable to take much in without gagging. Still, it feels good; her warm mouth and tongue bring you to your climax, and you cum. The first few shots hit her tongue and take Dahyun by surprise. She recoils, allowing the last few to spurt onto her face and chest. The sight of Dahyun soiled with your cum arouses you and gets you hard again. 

Dahyun looks down, noticing your cock is still hard. She sighs, but as her eyes meet yours, she smiles. “Be quick, okay?” She says, turning around and raising her ass to you.  When you don’t immediately take her, Dahyun looks over her shoulder.“I want to try this position, okay?” She says hurriedly before burying her face into the bed. You don’t question it, smacking her ass before taking her. When you finished, there was barely time to make it to school, and you ended up coming in late again. At lunch, Dahyun criticizes you much like the first day, but she comes around at the end. “You’re lucky I really enjoy it too, or I would threaten to not have sex with you anymore. Let’s just start earlier.” She says quietly, grabbing onto your hand and holding it tightly. 

“That’s fine by me, but you need to be quiet unless you want our parents to find out.” Dahyun smacks your chest.

“Don’t say that!” She shouts. After a minute, Dahyun grumbles, “We’ll have to tell them we’re dating soon anyway. Dating…” Dahyun contemplates the word for a second, a smile growing on her face as she turns to face you. She kisses your cheek softly, “Still, it’s really nice. The sound of it, I mean.”

[kooyabooya]

DISAVOW

kim dahyun x m reader

5k words

“Let me get this straight: you slept with Momo?” 

(Okay, that’s one way to get a conversation going if you were in Dahyun’s shoes.)

“I’m not gonna ask a second time. Answer the goddamn question.” 

–

It already feels wrong to commit the action, and even worse to say it. Most of the day has been pretty bad as it is. Dahyun had a rough day at work when a bunch of things didn’t go her way. Just one unfortunate instance onto the next. Woke up late, missing a few makeup supplies, late to work because of a stupid ticket, and didn’t even get to reshoot the one scene for her role because the director apparently ‘forgot’. She really was just sitting in her trailer till she felt like dying. 

As for your case. You had a long day too. So, you slept. Just- not in the way neither you or Momo had suspected. It’s not her fault she flaunted a body too tempting for the average man to resist, especially with that mouth of hers. You had to shut her up, and it’s somewhat safe to say that this was a tipping point of what was happening in the workplace leading up to the incident. 

You’re setting the record straight, even if the lines are beginning to be scribbled lazily. Dahyun’s gaze remains unfazed while you’re trying to down as much wine as possible and she just told you that you’ve slept with one of your coworkers plus her best friend and you’re not sure how much worse this ultimatum could get. 

Clearing your throat, sighing. Because the day can’t get any shitter. “You- didn’t even give me a chance to speak?” 

“Which is why I’m letting you speak now.”

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?!” 

“A big deal? Christ- do you hear yourself? With Momo?!” Dahyun raises her voice in agitation. You couldn’t have seen that coming. Scratch that: you definitely should’ve seen it coming. 

Did you even think of what was gonna happen? Fuck no. 

You and Momo are equally blamed for that. 

Recalling the memory of Sana’s party, you remember seeing Momo in that strapless red dress, hot off the sewing machines showcased from the Met Gala, and Chaeyoung herself was even appalled at the appearance. Dahyun also was in agreement, unfailing to look away because she would’ve asked how your reaction would’ve been if she was sheathed in red. And the way Momo strutted her way to you two felt right out of a movie where all the girls are working towards stealing something valuable later. 

(In a slight retrospect, yeah. You’ve seen the signs before.) 

“Well, aren’t you gonna explain to me why?” Dahyun demands, and you’re wishing the wine was a whiskey instead. This kind of conversation was not one to be done sober. 

“What do you want me to say!” You’re exclaiming, a mere move of the arm not tantamount to what you’ve done. “It’s not my fault that she’s equally all over me as you!” 

And Dahyun, of all people, knows this. You and her are both sides of the same coin when it comes to Momo being the sole catalyst. Not since you’ve walked in on them accidentally while visiting their dance practice and that was the fastest one-eighty you did ever in your life. Or when Momo pulled you off to the side in some bar and made you forget about the belt left in the bathroom when everything’s all said and done. Or- the time they made you feel like a hotshot when they both visited your office and that was the talking point in the break room for freaking months. 

You can sense the rage boiling in Dahyun, so much of it you can actually smell. Steaming off her pale skin in these rare occasions to where it turns into wanting to fuck someone into the sheets. You feel it. It’s hot when Dahyun gets like this, and you want it. The same could be said for Momo when she makes you wanna pop a blood vessel. Depending on the circumstance, and the girl, it varies from moment to moment. 

While you can sense the blistering warmth enveloping the room, your hands grip the obsidian countertop to cool your nerves. If you wanted to make the hard choice - and you really, really wished you didn’t - it’s Dahyun. You want the girl who’s been at your side since college but can’t say a word without getting a slap on your arm or pinch of the ear, who willingly gives you a few extra napkins while eating out because she could never finish her meal and doesn’t say much to be annoying in order to get a rise or even when her other friends tease you and she can’t do much to protect either you or herself. Some days her face lights up when she walks out of the office and sees you waiting on the second step leaning on the railing and you look at her at the other corner of the room and wonder how she’d handle your cock. There’s also the fact she would taste so much better than the wine, a fine course once indulging in the appetizers.

Momo, in some corner of the world is probably thinking of this moment and watching with her palms rubbed together, devilishly smiling. Dahyun still can’t believe that you went to Momo. You had a sliver of interest to her friend as much as she did (again, another topic to be saved for another day, but if Dahyun’s pulling your finger, Momo’s doing the exact same thing too) but she’s funny and chaotic and if you really look into it - where you’ve done time and time before - then Momo’s in it for the fun at ripping the seams and leaving no care for the damages she leaves behind. Nayeon or Sana, whoever can get to Momo first, this girl is a problem. 

“The fuck you say?”

You inhale deep, lighten your fingers off the edge. It didn’t occur to you what was said just now. “She wants me. Momo wants me, Dahyun. Simple as that. No strings attached.” 

Dahyun huffs, toying the ends of her hair. She stares at you sliding the glass further and further away, unbuttoning the ends of your sleeves and you’re beginning to think of the limitless ideas running through her head of how to get your hands tied to her imagination. “Knowing her, I get the fact she’s-” her fingers are in two’s, making quotations, “-a literal sex tornado.” 

That should be it. The end of the conversation right there. You and Momo fucked, end of story. Your mind isn’t helping in playing back the memory: eye fucking Momo a week prior, flash forward a few days after, winding up in Momo’s place and focusing on the heat, her finger, that fucking pussy; the messy bangs when you’re holding her head close to yours and her lips next to your ear. Dahyun wished that was her, cumming on your cock instead of Momo. Your wife, who’s within an arm's reach of the assortment of knives, looks at you as you think about Dahyun (or Momo) cumming. The idea of her killing you is a fast way to finish this ordeal. 

“I-” Your tongue freezes between the words. “Not arguing with that statement, actually.” 

Dahyun laughs, out of pure disbelief, walks her way towards you. Taking the bottle of wine and setting it next to the fridge. “If we’re going to be transparent with each other, no one else is going to get you fucked in the way that I do.” 

Clenching your teeth was way much worse than her not grabbing the knife and charging at you. “Momo knows it was a one time thing. It was always gonna be a one time thing.” 

“And it should always be me.” Dahyun says. Rolling her eyes with a disgusted crunch on her face 

You could see her hand ball up in a fist. Both of your feet remain unmoved and the air hitting your neck comes in tiny pricks. 

“Though,” her voice dejected, “seems like one of us has forgotten that.” 

You lick your teeth, bite your lip.

“Care to elaborate?” 

She looks up, tilts her head one side and to the opposite, shifts her gaze to the empty wine glass, seeing you in her peripheral. “I’m not gonna explain myself here.” 

“Why not?” 

Her shoulders tense and relax. “No matter who you talk to, whether it’s my friends crushing hard on you or after a long terrible day, I should be the one at the end of it.” Dahyun’s voice becomes increasingly agitated. 

“It’s always you. Always.” 

“Is that what you think? Have we not done everything to convince ourselves that?” Her hand lightly slaps the countertop, the wisps in her hair falling to the front of her face. “I’m not the one who’s forgotten our commitments.” 

Your head starts to spin, heart pounding at an immeasurable rate. “You’re right. I have.” 

Dahyun runs a hand down her face, then her neck. She would have these instances under stress, doing everything she can to micromanage herself and not have the other person take notice because: she’s not the kind of girl you’d want to piss off. 

Some people- coworkers or co-stars - if you will, were very attentive at how Dahyun operated on and off the clock, watching her do these roles and have a guy or girl you don't even know much about have their care when you know it isn’t the case when she’s behind closed doors with you. 

You start to feel uneasy, rubbing your palm across your leg, and when Dahyun crosses her arms as you’re slotting yourself behind. She looks over her shoulder, the slight tension of muscle and you haven’t even put your hands on the girl yet. You’re still gauging, waiting for her to talk. “Dahyun, please,” you mumble, fingers curling her elbows, slithering them in place around her waist. 

“You-” and she sighs. “I hate when you do shit like this behind my back, especially if it’s with somebody that I’m also very close with.” 

“Momo-” 

“Momo told you to go to her.” 

“The one time. I swear.” 

“And yet you still went while I was out busy.” Dahyun’s accusation doesn’t sit on your nerves right, and your grip softens. 

“I was gonna tell you before you left. And it was gonna come off the lines as ‘Hey! I know you’re probably busy, but I need a favor. Does Dahyun mind if I borrow you for a couple hours? Maybe have a few drinks with another person, probably Jihyo, and who knows?’ She could bring a few things over and we can talk about something more interesting besides work.’ That’s how I wished it would’ve gone.” 

Dahyun laughs softly. Since you know very well that if you told her some half-assed constructed lie on the spot, she would’ve been fine with it. You’re aware of how jealous she could get without explicitly saying it and show instead. She wouldn’t have stopped you from going that day, and she’s not stopping your hand lightly clutching her breast. “Maybe a heads up from you or Momo would’ve been nice,” she huffs, leaning her head up to where the breath canvases your neck. “Now it looks like I have another thing to deal with once all of this is over with our work.” 

“She’s shown you a thing or two, why not have her do it again?” You taunt. 

Dahyun rolls her eyes once more. “Starting to think you should’ve married her instead.” 

“We are not going there. Momo just went out of line because she’s missing that aspect in her life. I’m not regretting my choice here.” 

‘My choice has always been the same as before,’ you felt compelled to say, ‘You.’ Dahyun has every right to be furious. You want to prove everything to her again. “Fucks sake, Dahyun.” 

“Don’t twist this back on me.” Her voice snaps. “Enough. I’m tired. Let me get ready for bed. I can save this conversation for later. When we’re both in the right headspace.” 

You pull your hands off of Dahyun, but not stepping back. This kind of proximity is always nice to keep. “I'm still guilty as charged?” 

“For marrying me? Never.” For being a shortsighted bastard who’s lucky to not be out of the house by now. You wonder about her thoughts, or something like that. “Be glad I like you and Momo both.” 

So you settle your bearings and back away. Dahyun hands you the wine bottle for you to place in the fridge while she heads to the bedroom, but stops her tracks when she notices you reach for your phone on the kitchen counter. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm?” 

“Who- are you gonna call?” 

You don’t answer her question and press the phone to your ear; you mouth the word ‘Momo,’ and give her a shameless wink as another way to piss her off

(You might be an actual fucking idiot for doing this though you’re doing it anyway.) 

There is absolutely no way you’re pressing her buttons after she indirectly threatened to kill you. Calling Momo after what went down is only going to solidify your undoing. You don’t even put the wine back in the fridge and walk past Dahyun, barely getting far as she swipes the phone out your hand and pins you to a nearby cabinet - lips crashing against yours, hard. 

Her taste is infectious, parting your lips wider by the second. Mixed with the cold wine and the iced tea along with the fading hints of her lavender mint perfume Dahyun would spray on occasions - it’s not worth fighting against at all, she’s throwing her body onto you; the sweet rush burning from within, bending the will to her and the urge to do the same keeps growing and growing, holding the small of her back while the phone’s cast aside. 

The line’s still ringing. She could hear it too, and you’re starting to worry if the call goes to voicemail, slipping a finger or two underneath Dahyun’s jaw and tip it upwards so you can keep her occupied at her neck. Her chest rises, gut sucking in. “For the love of god, Momo, please don’t pick this up,” you murmur, keeping a close eye on the screen while you’re forcing Dahyun to the counter. 

Like Dahyun, it seems the universe is against you, because Momo’s lower voice comes over the line in that instant. “Hey, you don’t usually call at this hour. What’s up?” 

Dahyun snatches the phone and you’re left clasping the empty hand, wincing, puffing one side of your cheek. She examines the contact name before flashing a look, answering with a soft sing-song tone. “Momo! Hi!” 

“Don’t say anything to give it away,” you order. Both hands are on her hips, lifting her up funnily where her feet barely touch the floor, knees touching yours and filling the space in the middle. You could feel the rising heat from her shorts and she won’t deny needing this. 

Even in the faces too - close to the point where your cheeks are grazing when Momo says, “Uh, is everything good?” and you can hear the casual innocence with some of the sexual implication laced in the words. You’re saving the trouble with her for another day; for now, you’re just gonna slide your hands up Dahyun’s thighs and beneath her sweater. 

“No, no, yeah, I’m okay, I-” Dahyun’s breath stops when your mouth’s pressed open to her neck, and down her collarbone. “Didn’t manage to find my phone in time so I used-” 

“Your hubby’s phone instead?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” 

Welp, as if things couldn’t be less serious. Two of your flings are keeping it light with the exchanges. Dahyun looks back at you, a wicked smile emerging. “Girl, what is it with you this time?” Momo’s voice asks, “I swear if it’s about the incident with the dogs-” 

“Stop it, now,” you say, and Dahyun shakes her head no with a tempting pout of her lips. As if you’re not slipping off her (your) sweater, for god’s sake. You let your hand skate upward to the clasp of her bra, having it come undone and bring your fingers back around to her small breasts and not do anything about thumbing her nipples in a circular motion and her breathing gets to an irregular rate. Momo’s spilling off into a string of apologies and what Boo and Dooby did to poor Ari to the point where your mouth’s back to the mouthpiece and centimeters off Dahyn’s mouth, whispering: “Hang. The fuck. Up.” 

Dahyun glares at you with kneaded brows and it causes a snap in the nerves, bucking back into her. 

Really? At a time like this? You shouldn’t be one to test me. 

That alone is rewarded with a look of astonishment across her face. Momo on the opposite end of the line sighs to unknowingly make her presence and this girl’s timing is intentionally tragic. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get ahead of myself. Say, did you want me to drop by sometime tomorrow?” 

Right when Momo asks that, Dahyun fails to answer since she’s burning lasers directly into your eyes. You’ve got a handful of her breast and the other digging in the waistband of her shorts, aware of the fact that you’re both married to each other and she’s on the phone with one of her best friends who fucked around too much and it’s defiant to the vows; but that’s a one time thing, right? 

Dahyun simply just says: “You can. I don’t have anything in the afternoon. Feel free to swing by after lunch,” and she doesn’t falter her gaze at all. She’s winning. Saving the relationship. Not even the headlines or the blade to your heart could ever compare. 

You hope it never comes to that. 

“Alright. It’s settled then. I’ll see you at your place later,” says Momo on the phone. 

“See you soon.” Dahyun replies. 

The call goes dead soon after. 

Dahyun holds the phone between your faces, staring at you with the endless void past those eyes. You’ve got the green light - the go ahead, you really should, and enticingly could, in the next few seconds, make her feel like the only thing that mattered before she even has a chance to change her mind. A fucking insanity it is to have the thought of asking if she’s okay with this because someone’s gotta play the nice guy here. Silence fills the air with the quiet exhales and the returning beep of the smoke detector down the hall. 

“So now you want this?” You remark, hands right where they are - where they’re supposed to be. 

Dahyun’s throat bobs. Her eyes flick from your mouth to your eyes and to her body, seeing nothing else but your hair when she feels the lips touch her sweet skin. To be meticulous and not cut the wrong wire is extremely, extremely difficult. The pale shade she carries is warm and soft and you can feel the gentle bump of her heart on your hands and face. Your foot is slipping across the hardwood. All she does is breath carefully and you feel it hit your jaw. 

The worst thing she could do is say no. You’re more unsure of not being clear enough and she’ll probably forget it in the next few minutes. That undeclared authority, the unspoken ownership of each other, anything goes if one makes the move first. As much as you’d love to slip your hand beneath her shorts, (if you hadn’t done so already) she has to want it also. So you sigh and tip her forehead to yours. “Dahyun, I need to hear it. How much you want it.” 

Her face freezes, holding herself best she could, tilting her head back as she places the phone flat on the counter. It’s bleak, incoherent: “Oh, you have no idea.” 

(As if she couldn’t have made it more clearer.) 

You pick up right where it’s left off - without the overbearing tension - clutching her sides as she wraps her arms around your neck, flushing her hips with yours. She’s gripping the ends of your hair and keeps kissing while you’re marking up her neck; a power move in stripping her to nothing, and the both of you know it well, picking up the slack where the other leaves. Her hand goes astray, slipping to the phone. 

“Don’t even think about it,” you rasp against Dahyun’s mouth, pulling her lower lip. 

“Wanna find out what happens if Momo got a facetime call just now?” She mumbles back, grinning. 

You feel her hand hook your nape, pressing a thumb down the crease of her thigh with a little more force. “Momo can go fuck herself.” 

“Momo managed to get herself fucked by you, didn’t she?” 

She giggles while you inhale a sharp sound, fingers curling around the waistband of her shorts and revealing the white ends of her panties. “Save the bullshit for later.” 

“Later?” Dahyun’s taunting is one to go up against, when the jealousy is strong enough to be forced back around. Her version of karma. “Why don’t you tell me all the things you did-” 

Your fingers graze the fabric, lock eyes with hers. “Dahyun. You wouldn’t fucking call her again. I dare you.” 

“Or what-” 

Dahyun fixes her gaze when your hand slips out of her shorts, dragging her shorts and white laced panties to the floor. “I suggest you find something to hold. Quick.” 

“Hold as in what-” 

You spread her thighs open. Okay, maybe this is a little bit rushed. Maybe you should’ve done more of the kissing, the teasing, lay a few more red marks on the plush thighs before ghosting your breath over the exposed flesh in between and put her over your shoulder to the bedroom to show what she signed up for. Instead, your mouth’s been good in this predicament, and the patience can keep you at bay for so long; you lean in with your arm at her leg and just focus on the girl in your hands. 

Better than stainless steel. She tastes salty and sweet. You can imagine what it’ll be like when you get to the sticky part. 

Dahyun exhales next to you, glancing over to see that she’s kept her eyes up to the air and not doing much to close her mouth. She’s doing that awe expression when one of her costars does something stupid, and it’s not the ideal look you were expecting, shifting your weight a little more forcefully her lower half bucks at the touch. You pinch her hip and lightly tap her clit. “Oh fuck- okay,” gasps Dahyun. Her hand goes lazy and moves the phone off the obsidian and grasps where she can - the shoulders, the back, all the same. 

That’s enough to pause for a second and grin wickedly, pupils blown. “Look what happens when you don’t listen.” 

“Fuck off.” Dahyun manages, pulling you in at the nape. “Are you gonna keep talking or are you- ah-” 

While you’re traversing down a familiar path, in her sensitive areas and remembering the form of her lips on yours, you hold her steady, two fingers inching at the opening. She curses, nails carving up skin, and there’s a light slap of skin to hard surface, clutching to the counter. She’s melting in your arms and the sounds are turning your synapses to mush. You were expecting her to be more adamant, more desperate to make you stay; though, it doesn’t take much for you - no more than ten minutes and you’ve got it all sorted. Either that, or- you know her well enough to fix her up without asking. 

If anything it’s the solution she’s been searching for, the same desperation for you to tear her insides and instill the lost belief. Even if it meant for Momo to play a role in commensurating. For Momo to steer you away from the light for just a small moment. 

Maybe all of this was the point of it all. 

Dahyun stops you with both hands on your chest, catching her breath, staring down your palm flat to her waist. “Momo had no idea what she was getting herself into,” you say, “But she knew what she was doing.” 

She looks at you quizzical. “That woman has plans of her own.” 

You kneel down to kiss her leaking cunt, earning a heel to the shoulder blade. Soothing the sudden sensation with a lick of her crease at the thigh, keeping your eyes level. “God knows we’re playing her game instead.” 

“As if,” breathes Dahyun, and lightly slaps your face. But that doesn’t stop you from going at her neck. “Keep the ‘what if’s’ all you want. Don’t you dare leave me like this.” 

“Who said I’d hold back on you?” 

So you’re leaning back in, deeper. Meet her mouth and slot your tongue to her lips and get your fingers warm again. “You knew I had an eye on Momo ever since that time. And it seems like she had the same thought,” you proclaim. 

Her knee grazes your side and her foot wraps to your ass. “What if I were to go to Momo the next time around? What then?” 

“You wouldn’t, Dahyun,” you grumble, sliding your fingers out and swiping them on the inside of her thigh. “Why don’t we find out if the roles are reversed.” 

“Start with me first,” she demands.

“With pleasure,” you relent, and you’re yanking her from the small of her back, stabilizing herself with the foot to your posterior. The grip to your neck, into the defined muscle, and she’ll keep on holding on for dear life if the bruises are meant to stay for eternity. You want her to reciprocate the wanting, let her mark you for the keepsake. “You’re gonna owe me for this once it’s over - when I can make you cum like she can’t replicate-” 

“Healthy competition,” she seethes, and her whole body tenses when you let her flat on the counter to tend the wet lines on her legs. Nibbling gently; enough to indirectly say that you’ll fall on your knees but still have the power. 

“I could go to her tomorrow.” You propose to Dahyun with her foot on your collarbone before slipping past your back, the angle left open for your hand to resume the unfinished work. “Bring up last night, and ask what she did to me that you didn’t have, then tell her the predicament we’re in. I could even bring you along to confess the whole thing. Now that would be interesting.” 

This might be a little out of line for your standards. Possessiveness? Toxicity? All the boxes are being ticked off for the times you had to peel Dahyun off from the girls. Sana didn’t take much convincing. Tzuyu is attached to the poor girl’s hip. Nayeon wouldn’t shut up about liking Dahyun’s ass. At the end of the day, she’s yours. No one could ever get her like this and the whole world knows it. 

It shouldn’t piss you off this much but it is; you alone knows how dangerous it could be to drop the healthy mindset and let the anger flow into the fucking, but this is Dahyun at her most vulnerable - where she’s burning red and addicting in your mouth, and you’ve kept it calm and lighthearted half the times. And this is one of the many where you’re itching to ruin her. 

“What more do I have to do to make you see me, and only me,” she sneers, lost in rapture and her pools of black and her seeping cunt. “This pussy should be enough as it is, no?  

“Fuck yes,” you gasp, bitting another open area of skin left unclaimed. “Trust me, I’m getting you there, but if you wanna keep complaining-” 

Her back arches and she’s near your heart. “You motherfucker-” 

You angle your head for a better view and- aw, pitiful. Fixing her up with the opposite hand to her hip and close to the end of the counter, Dahyun setting herself straight so her face is right in front of yours. “What’s wrong? Gonna cum for me?” You hover over her mouth. Go off the deep end. Fast. Rough. Her teeth almost cut the end of your tongue off. The grip she has in her small hands is steel tight, but her legs aren’t following the same page. “It’s okay, baby,” you coax again, muffling the moan passing through her lips, “relax-” 

Almost there. She’s almost there. In the pace of her breaths and clenching of her stomach - the lavender and faint hints of mint fogging your vision and it’s fucking fantastic - there we go, cmon honey, do it, do it, you can’t take much more of this- 

Dahyun buries her face into the side of your throat and she does, the whine loud enough tells you how hard as a plus. 

The feeling is probably up there in the few times throughout your life: Kim Dahyun squirting and cumming on your fingers, sobbing and sweating and spilling whimpers down your chest as you’re easing her in the motions. You can get her like this again later, fuck the sense out of her brain and body where she can’t function, and your name the only psalm she can recite to convert her ideals. 

You’re patting her back and shushing her on the come down, breaths still hot on your collarbone. By the way, you’ve still got your fingers deep inside her, initiating her to pinch your shoulder, shift the hands around to where she’s most comfortable. 

Her breathing intertwined with yours joins the creaking of the floorboards beneath, securing her at her ass while her upper body is still at your chest. Still naked and weakly pulling your shirt off, shuffling to the couch to rest from the short trip. Cradling your head with her hair in a worse mess than before, earnestly staring at you so lovingly. The sparkle in your eyes gives a faint smile across her lips and you’re left speechless. It’s hard for you to ignore the tightness in your pants, tapping your fingertips across her skin, and you’re not thinking about Momo as much now. 

In the end, it was always going to be Dahyun. You love the idea of claiming her as yours. Making her cum like that before your clothes have even dropped to the floor. It’s an adoration in itself - pressing your lips to hers and to her temple - the many instances of adoring her, all fucked out and barren, resting on you with the trail of clothes back in the kitchen and making an indirect vow that she belongs with you. That alone should be enough to stay with you forever. 

So it does. When the tension is finally past the highest. She lifts her head off of you and blinks. 

“You made me squirt on my favorite sweater.” 

“Oops.” you chuckle. 

She could’ve said anything else. Not even the red blotches and bite marks can ever suffice the way she’s back to her straightforward and subtle self. You won’t forget she was on the precipice of killing someone tonight and you just gave her an orgasm as a way of forgiveness but aware enough for it to come bite you back in the ass someday. Whether you’re at each other’s throats or suffocating at the clench or thrust later - it’ll be found out eventually, but all you say is: “For the record, that was my sweater.” 

Dahyun fakes a laughing sound. “My bad for dropping your phone.” 

“You wanna go there?” 

Dahyun then laughs genuinely, her body extending all the loose ends so simply but very delicately. “No, dingus. We’re fine,” she reassures, swinging one leg off and the other and you can’t keep your eyes off of that ass of hers. 

You track her pathing through the house barefoot and naked and consciously; picking up the sweater, her shorts, and the panties too - your phone back on the counter and not to be checked for the rest of the night. She slips into the hallway and a few seconds pass, turning the other cheek when she’s in a used soccer jersey. 

She leans her shoulder onto the wall and puts her back to the drywall, and you feel suspended in time just staring at each other. Your thumb runs across the four fingertips and run your tongue on the edge of your teeth. Her blush is faded and eyes half-open. Legs defined by the muscle and her hips just meet the end of his shirt, not to mention the waist forming as the cotton’s pulled to the rear. That boner’s still there, too, and manspreading the only method to do right where she left you, she’s definitely seen it before and it’s amazing how she hasn’t mentioned it yet. 

Breaking the silence: “I don’t think I can stand up, babe.” 

Dahyun sighs, shaking her head and beaming a soft smile. “Were you thinking about me or Momo just now?” 

You laugh, because she has it figured out. “If I answered the latter, then my dick would be chopped off.” Besides, it won’t be that long for you to ignore the clothes if she’s keeping her distance with that choice of clothing - especially the fact she definitely has nothing underneath. 

It’s on purpose too. She still needs her fix, after all. 

There’s a reason she’s not helping you, nor suggesting for you to wash up because there’s a whole lot of mess left to be dealt with. And the thought of not doing anything was also a plausible choice - though that would piss her off even more - Dahyun observes when you finally stand and walk toward her. Watching as the height difference increases the more she tilts her gaze upwards. 

Sinning and penance are both routes to take from the shared cause. You either let your head fill with regret, or channel that devotion to someone who’s willing to take it all. That familiar swing of tension is in the air once again. “So, what will it be, sir?” 

You lean down and take her lips. Lift her off her feet and have them bracket around your waist. “Seems like I still owe you.” 

“Oh really,” she sighs, moaning again when the touches are more desperate, rough. Carrying her through the corridor and into the bedroom, but not until she stops at the walkway. “You think this will be enough for you to stay away from Momo?” 

You arch an eyebrow. “It takes more than my decision to make that happen.” It should, you also think, but Dahyun doesn’t expand on that answer. 

“Fuck me good till the morning and I’ll leave it up to you,” says Dahyun, and you nod. Her string of laughs and moans growing louder in the bedroom and that’s everything you ever needed. 

–

It’s not until much later when you’re staring into space, where the whirr of the espresso machine doubles down on the trance as you try to process the events unfolded in the past couple weeks. The tinge on your lips and the soreness at your cock. Your head spinning in the endless cycle of self-introspection until it’s ended by the vibration of your phone on the counter, left untouched from last night. 

A message notification on the screen: still left me out to dry, i see how it is :// <3 🍑

Whether to reply or leave it on read is a personal decision. 

[twice-inamillion]

You love how flexible Dahyun is, especially when you hit it from the back. She doesn’t want to miss the show and watches herself get fucked by your cock.

[smutallyouwant]

One-shot World Chp. 6

Free Use Best-Friend

Dahyun x M Reader

Word Count: 2.1k words

" Ughh fuck, you're so fucking good Dahyun "

" Ahhh~ yes, Jun keep fucking me "

You were smoking your vape on the floor resting while you watch your best friends fuck on the bed in doggy style. Your trio friend group just became sex indulged monsters and your apartment has become your sex den.

" I'm cumming babyy, I'll cum inside you "

" Yesss yess fill my pussy up "

" Ughhhhhh~~~ " they moan in unison.

Flashback

Yourself, Dahyun, and Jun is a trio of friend group that started in your 1st year college. Jun and you obviously have feelings for Dahyun but she has her boyfriend. The two of you became like brothers for her and you do things together.

You're now in your 3rd year in college and Dahyun just texted you that her boyfriend broke up with her. You told her to go to your apartment.

*knock knock knock

Dahyun raced to hug you after you opened your door. She is wearing a sporty crop-top and a jean short.

" What's wrong with him, he dumped me right before the Christmas break " Dahyun sobs while hugging you from your neck.

" Are you okay? Come let's wait first "

" No oppa, can we go to your bed? I want to rest "

You led her inside your bedroom and the two of you hugged each other on the bed while Dahyun still sobs from what happened.

" So, what happened? "

" He dumped me, he said that he fell out of love "

" How dare he " you answered.

" Am I not pretty oppa? How dare he, he fucked me as he likes and I suck his dick as he want but he dumped me just like that "

You're shocked by what she said but you want to do your best to calm her down.

" No, you're so beautiful Dahyun "

" You're also super sexy, he will have a hard time forgetting about you in bed " you added.

Dahyun looked at you seductively but you invaded her hot eyes. This is the first time that the two of you become super intimate with each other. She rubs your back while resting on your chest and you rub and sniffs her hair and her shoulders. Both of your breaths became heavy and just found yourself kissing her shoulders.

" ugh~ huhh~ hmm~ " Dahyun moaned gently with heavy breaths.

Based on her reactions you decided to take the opportunity to kiss and lick her shoulders. Her shoulders smell like fragrant tulips and her skin is as smooth and white as a soft tofu. You then moved up to her neck that caused her to bite her lips and moan with her breath. She moans under her breath and pulls off a horny smile before palming your face.

" ~mhhhhh fuck Y/N " she said before pulling your for a kiss.

The two of you kissed like you're both hungry for each other. Her sweet pink lips are so soft and her tongue is so tasty that you gently sucks them each and every kisses. You both sucked each other's tongue and exchanged saliva in between kisses. Your hands roam inside her top, she doesn't have a bra and her crop-top hides her stiff and pink nipples. Fondling her perky plump boobs is like heaven, you can hear her moans under the make out each and every squeeze. Dahyun inserted her hands inside your shorts and gently stroked your shaft.

" I've been wanting to do this to you " you blatantly said.

Dahyun looked at you for a second before taking off her top, you then removed your shorts. Her white milkers with pretty pinkish nipples made your dick throb. Dahyun then massaged your face as she leaned over to make you suck on her boobs.

"I know you want to do this a long time ago, you've been staring at these for quite a long time now " Dahyun said.

" Have you jerked off while thinking of my body? " she added.

You nod while still suckling on her boobs.

" That's cute, the other one " she said before putting her other boob into your mouth.

The two of you locked eyes while you suckled on her boobs, her other arm massages your shaft while the other was massaging your cheeks.

" Do you want to fuck me, Y/N? "

You nodded.

Dahyun suddenly sucked you off aggressively. Her head game is seriously perfect, no teeth and her fellatio tongue work is crazy.

" Fuck, you've been trained by your boyfriend to suck me like this huh "

" Come, fuck me " she answered.

You pushed her into the bed and quickly removed her bottom. You aligned your shaft into her wet pussy and pounded her aggressively on a missionary position.

" Your head game is crazy, did your boyfriend teach you that? "

" Yes, yess ugh~~ "

" Shit shit shit shit " she cursed in pleasure.

" Fuck Y/N I'm cumming "

" Already? Is my cock that good? "

" Yeshhh yes, you cock is the best, Ughh~~ keep pounding my pussy fuckk, I'll be your cum dump if you made me cum now "

She pleaded, crying for you to keep on fucking her already flopping pussy.

" Yeshhh I'm cumming~~ " she squealed.

She bit her lips and her hands squeezed both her boobs as she trembled in pleasure. She smiled seductively as she squirts on your bed.

" Ughhh fuck Y/N that's so good "

" My bed is wet now, guess I'll have you pay for that "

You laid her down revealing her plump ass.

" Well I guess I can use this "

You lined your shaft into her booty hole and pressed your head down slowly until it went in.

" ughhh fuckkkk! " Dahyun squealed as you slowly pushed it inside her cheeks.

You started slow, Dahyun fingers herself as you stick your dick into her anus.

Your dick is so wet with Dahyun's drool so it went in perfectly.

" Ohh, god this feels different " you muttered.

You then fucked her ass while she uses 2 of her fingers to flick her clit.

" You can go faster and harder " she whispered .

With her words you shall grant, you start to bang her harder and faster burying all of your dick every thrust. She muffled her mouth with the pillow while she fastened the pace of her fingering.

The room was filled with the sounds of two bodies banging each other and the noise of Dahyun's muffled moans.

" mhh, mhhh,mhhh ,mhhh ,mhhh~~~ "

Her moans followed the beat of your every thrust. You're nearing your climax as this is your first time fucking anal and it's with your friend Dahyun.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming "

Dahyun moaned repeatedly as her finger fastened its pace. You pummeled one last time filling up her ass with you cum, she squirted right after you removed your dick inside her ass and Dahyun trembles aggressively as you watch her squirt with her ass drooling with your cum.

" That was my first anal sex, I didn't think that it'd feel that good " you said.

Dahyun limped there for a minute before responding.

" You can feel that again, just call me hehe "

Dahyun that time quickly left because she said that she had some errands to attend.

2 days later...

Dahyun arrived at your apartment with your friend, Jun. They brought drinks and meat for you to enjoy. The three of you just chatted for 30 mins while drinking.

" Come one let's have some fun and not be boring " Dahyun exclaimed.

" Let's play a drinking game, the 2 truths and 1 lie " She added.

" Okay let's go! " Jun said.

" I'll go first, I failed one of my subjects this semester, I once cheated on an exam, I got a perfect score in one of my exams " June said.

" Of course it's the first one " you said.

You all laughed, you all drank and kept on playing the game but until Dahyun suggested turning the topic of it into the explicit once for excitement. It's Dahyun's turn.

" I already experienced anal sex, My favorite position is dog style, I had sex with someone in this room already "

The room went silent for a second and tension builds up with Dahyun removing her blue top revealing her silky white skin with her white tube.

" Is it the second one? " You said.

" yes you're correct" Dahyun seductively answered.

" Let's change the game, let us do truth or dare but the one that the bottle will point will be the one to ask the other two and will decide if they do truth or dare " Jun said.

*bottle pointed at Dahyun

" I'll pick the truth, have both of you ever thought of having sex with me? " Dahyun said.

" Yes " both of you answered.

You and Jun looked at each other and decided to take the opportunity to gang up on Dahyun and take advantage of her.

*bottle spins *points at Jun

" I dare Y/N to kiss any part of Dahyun's body that is not covered by clothes for 30 seconds "

" Hey oppa that's not fair hahaha " Dahyun protests with laughter.

You then kissed her silky shoulders, Dahyun's hand leaned into yours aswell. You then fondled her thighs that made her moan in her breaths.

" Time's up! " Jun shouted.

You spun the bottle and it pointed on you.

" I dare you Jun to do the same "

Jun quickly reached onto Dahyun's neck licking and kissing each of them with Dahyun holding his head.

" ~ughh ~mhhh ~mhhh " Dahyun moaned as she was being taken advantage by her friends.

" Times up, here's the bottle Dahyun, you spin it " you said.

*bottle spins * points at Dahyun

" I chose dare, I dare both of you to do the same exact thing to me at the same time "

You and Jun came closer to Dahyun and then kissed Dahyun's shoulders and neck. Dahyun held both of your shoulders while moaning.

" ~~ughh, mmhhh~ fuckkk "

One thing led to another, taking advantage of Dahyun and her letting it all happen, letting her friends do nasty things to her and enjoying the lewd environment.

" I dare Jun and Dahyun to french kiss for a minute "

" I dare Y/N to suck Dahyun's boobs while she's on top for 1 minute "

" I dare Jun to fondle Dahyun's boobs "

" I dare Y/N and Dahyun to french kiss for 2 minutes"

" I dare Y/N and Jun to suck bot of my boobs at the same time while I play with myself " Dahyun seductively dared.

This was the last straw for both Jun and you to finally ignore the game and fuck Dahyun as you see her finger her clit while both of you suckles into her tits.

You shove Dahyun's hand and replace it with yours, now you're the one fingering Dahyun. She bit her fingers while her other hand is strangling your hair due to pleasure.

Jun saw this opportunity to take Dahyun's mouth and deep tongue kiss her. Dahyun moaned in Jun's mouth as your long thick fingers latched inside her pussy tickling her insides.

" Fuck, are you always this horny Dahyun?" Jun asked.

" No, it's just I want to try having a hoe phase ughhh~~ but I don't want to fuck with strangers " Dahyun exclaimed.

" So now, you're our hoe " you said.

" Yess yess, fuck me please I'll be your free use slut " she said before pulling your for a deep kiss.

You then removed your pants and started fucking Dahyun as she ask.

" I'll be fucking you first, hoe " you said.

" Yesss, fuck me with your long thick cock Y/N "

" Let me in too, Dahyun suck my dick" Jun said before giving Dahyun his cock.

~mhhhhh mhhhh ~ughhhh!!

Moans fill the room as you bang Dahyun while she gives Jun a head.

" Hey Dahyun I'll cum inside "

" Yess yess, please cum inside me babyyy fuckk " she said before taking Jun's dick deep into her throat.

You plunged your dick as deep as you can making Dahyun choke into Jun's dick and bend her back.

" Hey it's my turn to fuck your pussy "

You watched as your best friends fuck each other on your bed, thinking of your relationship you never knew that this would happen but you're not complaining. You get to fuck Dahyun that obviously is getting hit on by many guys in your school.

" I'm cumming babyy "

" Yess babyy cum inside me too! Yes make me your slut! Fuck!! "

You cleaned up the mess on the floor, as the two laid down on your bed. After cleaning your floor, you laid too making Dahyun sandwiched between the two of you.

" Hey, I want to try being fuck with my both holes " Dahyun said.

" Do you want to try fucking me at the same time ? " She added.

No time wasted, you quickly pulled Dahyun's legs and you spit into her asshole, Jun then positioned himself and aligned his dick into her pussy. Both of you plunged your cocks at the same time and started banging her from both sides. Dahyun shouted from pain and immense pleasure as she is being stimulated from both of her g spots in her ass and in her pussy.

" OHHH GOODD PLEASE DON'T STOP! FUCKKK I'M GONNA LOSE IT "

Dahyun trembles as two thick cocks enter her holes, Jun suckles her boobs while you suck into her shoulders and neck.

Dahyun squirted all over your bed and limped on the bed like a vegetable but the two of you kept on fucking her until you cum.

Dahyun loses all her energy and can't even moan after reaching her climax. You just both filled her holes with semen as she was passed out with drool and a horny smile on her face.

After the long night you finally cleaned the room and changed the wet bed into a new one, Jun went home and you got to fuck Dahyun again in the morning.

Dahyun is now your free use hoe, Jun and you take turns into fucking her. Sometimes in the school toilet or club room where one will be on watch while the other fucks Dahyun. The three of you were best friends outside but fucks each other every chance you get. Dahyun gladly lets her body be used by the two of you and sometimes being bold enough to let another girl come in every now and then for a foursome.

[authorhjk1]

lewd thoughts on twice members handle their BFs who starting to get rough in the middle of sex

Nayeon

"Oh god, yes!"

Nayeon buries her face in the sheets as you fuck her faster. Your hands holding onto her waist, pulling her onto your cock, whenever you thrust forward. Surprised by your sudden roughness, Nayeon's back instinctively arches further, making her ass stick out even more. You lean over her a little further, fucking her right into the mattress.

Jeongyeon

"Not so fast. Someone will hear us."

Jeongyeon covers her mouth with one hand.

"You mean, someone will hear you."

But you do as she wishes and slow down. Your thrusts are as deep as ever though, making her head roll on the backrest. Jeongyeon's legs are raised in the air and you lean against them a little. You slowly fold her a little further, which makes her moan louder.

Momo

"Yes, harder!"

Momo moans louder as you start to thrust into her. So far, she has just been riding you, while you enjoyed playing with her bouncing tits. But now, you meet her hips with your own. Your hands on her waist, pulling her off your cock, before pulling her back down onto it. You force Momo to ride you faster. A second later, her glasses are gone. She throws her head back and her whole body shakes as she leans further away from you.

"I'm gonna cum!"

Her cry makes you fuck her harder, until Momo finally collapses on top of you.

Sana

"Oh gosh! Yes, baby! Do me faster!"

Sana's moans just seem to spill out of her mouth as you now nail her against the wall. Her white dress is bunched up around her waist. Anyone could come back in at any moment, ready to continue her photoshoot.

But you don't care, plowing this goddess of love into the wall. She moans louder and you capture her lips with yours. Silencing her is not an easy task, but Sana melts into the kiss. Her body becomes weaker, your hands that roam her body send sparks through her system.

Jihyo

"Not so fast, baby."

Jihyo gives you an amused grin, pushing your hands off her waist. You look up at her, as she keeps riding you slowly. You lean back against the backrest of your chair.

"Why don't you give me more attention and maybe I will go faster?"

Before you can react, Jihyo leans forward, burying your face in her cleavage. Her dress is long gone. But her tits look as big and beautiful as they looked when she was still wearing it. You happily kiss her skin and suck on her nipples, while Jihyo slightly picks up her pace. Her hands are locked at the back of your head, pulling you further into her.

Mina

You take a hold of Mina's waist, before driving yourself deeper into her. Her body gets rocked forward, her hips hitting the balustrade you've bent her over.

Feeling her tight ass squeezing your cock, makes you reach around her. You grope her tits over her top from behind, putting your weight on her small frame. Mina moans louder, but still tries to be quiet. The street isn't completely empty. Her breathing becomes heavier as you fuck her as harder. Then, Mina hisses in pain.

"Wait, wait, wait."

The pain in her voice makes you stop. The two of you back away a little. Mina looks down on herself. The balustrade has left a large red line on her skin, right above her pussy. Once you realize it wasn't your roughness that caused, you pull her back a step or two and bend her over again. This time, Mina is too far to actually bend over the stone, but her hands still hold onto it. Once again, you start to fuck her ass, quickly picking up the pace. Your hands firmly hold onto her hips as you become rougher. Her moans are probably echoing through the whole street.

Dahyun

"Oh my god! What did you do!?"

Dahyun looks angry as she turns her head. She is still on all fours on the bed. You standing behind her, your cock deep inside her snatch. You don't know what came over you either. You stand in place, frozen. Your hand still holding your belt, which she dropped on the bed earlier.

"Do it again."

A small smile plays on Dahyun's lips.

"But not this hard at first."

You nod, mumbling an apology, before you begin to fuck her again. When you bottom out inside of her Dahyun moans once more.

Another clap echoes through the room. Another bright red spot joins the first on her back, where you hit her with your leather belt. A sharp gasp escapes Dahyun's mouth as you hit her again.

"God, yes! Harder! I deserve it!"

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung starts whining and moaning as you fold her in half. Her ankles almost reach her ears as you put your weight on her. You enable yourself to fuck her deeper, making her mouth and eyes shoot wide open.

"Please...!"

You can see on her face, how her ability to form words slowly leaves her. The body she works so hard for,now shows signs of the little body fat she has as you force yourself even deeper.

"Breed me.... Please!"

Chaeyoung lets out another moan, knowing how close you just be by now. You kiss her one last time, making her whine into your mouth, before you pump her full of your seed.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu's head is hanging off the edge of the backrest. Her legs are still crossed, showing off her thick thighs as you fuck her pussy. She's usually a quiet girl, a moan only slipping past her lips from time to time.

Suddenly, you push her further onto the sofa, making Tzuyu land on her back. Now, you're able to thrust into her deeper. You feel her thighs rub against your hips with every thrust. You're tempted to just grab those. But you really want to make her scream. Reaching forward you grab a fistful of Tzuyu's blonde hair, right on top of her head. You see her wince in pain.

But as you start to increase your speed and force, Tzuyu becomes louder and louder. You keep pulling at her hair slightly, making her lean forward a little. You're free hand reaches forward as well, groping her tits through the light blue silk.

Like always, Tzuyu becomes a loud mess, whenever you involve yourself, pulling her hair. Tzuyu gets off to it, no matter the position. It's a sign of the power you have over her. The power that makes Tzuyu a wet, begging mess.

"Please harder, daddy."

Her cute moans increase in volume.

[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 26 Breakfast (Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung, Feat. Jihyo)

You are so hungry that you just randomly find a fast food shop to make yourself full. You look at your watch and it's around 10 pm, you don't know how Sana's doing, but you are not gonna find her for now.

You find the living room is empty when you arrive home, you guess maybe all of them are resting already, so you back to your room for changing.

Chaeyoung is laying on your bed and playing on her phone, 'Wow, your company seems so harsh, forcing you to work until 10 on weekends, I don't understand why Dahyun eooni would like to work at your company.'

“This was a special occasion, I had some struggles with an employee, and I stopped for food. What are you doing here Chaeyoung?”

'I help you to change the bed sheet, Oppa.' Chaeyoung gets up from your bed and walks to you. 'You know it was Dahyun eooni's first-time last night, she cut away the pieces with her blood and keep it.'

'Don't worry, I keep mine one at out our house in hometown.' Chaeyoung come to hugs you. 'Oh, I can smell the shampoo, you doing something naughty today huh?'

“Just a little after-work fun.” I fall into bed after hugging Chae. “I’m just going to sleep like this. I’m too tired to change.”

'Wow, so you finally find a girl that can drain you? It's fun.' Chaeyoung comes around to kiss your forehead and then goes to your bed, cuddle with you. 'I' m sleeping here tonight, good night oppa.'

“Why can’t you sleep in your bed?” I ask while moving away slightly.

'Yah, what do you mean?' Chaeyoung cuddles with you again, 'I just wanna sleep next to you tonight, ok? Or you still mad with me about yesterday? Sorry oppa.'

“Its’s fine, but I was just curious as to why.” I begin to fall asleep.

You fall asleep soon while you have Chaeyoung in your arms.

You are awake by the middle of the night, and you see someone riding you. 'No, Mina, tomorrow is Sunday, we don't need to work.' As you haven’t fully wakeup, you thought it is Mina giving you the alarm.

'Mina' stops for a second when she hears Mina's name, but soon she starts to ride you again. You close your eyes and try to sleep again.

I roll onto my side bringing them with me. Groggily saying “I said no.“ Following that I wrap my arms around them. "Just sleep.”

'Mina' did not resist, she just peacefully sleep in your arms, and you two just sleep until the sun rises.

As you are very tired from the sex with Sana, you woke up pretty late today and it's already noon. You open your eye and find that the one in your arms isn't Chaeyoung, it's Dahyun instead, she just watches you sleeping.

"Dahyun what are you doing here?” As I look down, I notice that I’m still inside her and immediately back off. “Why was I inside you?”

'I come here to wake Oppa up, but I hear Oppa say you want me in the dream, so...' Dahyun blushes and grabs your morning boner, guiding you back to her pussy. 'I can help oppa...'

“What about the others Dahyun? What if they come in?”

'Chaeyoung knows already, and Jihyo eooni won't talk about us, so... Uh... so big, oppa.' Dahyun starts to moan as you have entered her.

'Love me, oppa.' Dahyun leans to kiss you.

I return the kiss and push deeper into her. “Let’s be quiet Dahyun.”

'I will try... Ah!' Dahyun fails instantly after you start thrusting.

'Umm... Umm...' Dahyun keeps moaning as you move, you doubt that other in the house knows what happening in the room.

I kiss Dahyun in response, “I said keep quiet.”

Dahyun bites her lips real hard to hide her moan, she even uses her hands to cover her mouth.

'Ummm...' Dahyun crosses her legs on your leg demanding you thrust faster.

It's just her second time having sex, it's really tight and you're tempted to go rougher, and her milky thigh keep rubbing your back make you even turned on.

I squeeze Dahyun’s ass cheeks, as I start to thrust faster. Planting kissing down her body I reach her nipple and start suckling on it.

'Ah ha! No, oppa!' Dahyun fails to keep her moaning again when you start sucking her nipple, her body jerks from the sensation.

'I'm going to pee! Ah, Oppa!' Dahyun' s leg pushing you to go further as she is approaching her orgasm. Her walls becoming tighter and wrapping you well, allowing you to have more pleasure.

I continue sucking on her tits and start to thrust faster. “Cum for me Dahyun.”

'Ah! Oppa! I love you...' Dahyun arcs her back and hugs you tighter when she orgasms. Her nectars splashing on your tip, her walls pressing on your shaft.

'Pull out... Oppa... We will have child...' Dahyun moans weakly as you keep thrusting throughout her orgasm, but her legs still crossing on your back.

“You have to let me go Dahyun.” I say while trying to unhook her legs.

Although Dahyun tells you to pull out, her legs still lock you tightly. You are on the edge of orgasm already while you trying to remove her legs.

'Pull out... Oppa.' Dahyun can feels your cock throbbing and she finally frees you a bit but her legs are still hooking you.

I unhook Dahyun’s legs and pull out enough to cover Dahyun’s stomach in cum. I kiss her and say, “Dahyun you made that a lot harder than it had to be.”

Dahyun returns your kiss and hugs you tightly again, 'Sorry, Oppa. I know I can't let you cum inside, but it's just feel so good to have you in me.'

'I am sorry I can't keep quiet, oppa.' Dahyun blushes. 'Chaeyoung must be laughing at me.'

“She definitely is.” I respond while moving to sit. “We said we would spend the day together. Go take a shower, I’ll go after you. Then we can go out.”

Dahyun kisses you one more time before leaving for a bath, you can hear Chaeyoung's laughter when she opens the door. You wait for a few minutes later to take your bath.

When you step out, the girls in the living room are watching you, Chaeyoung is smirking, 'I guess you have finished your breakfast, Oppa?', Jihyo just smiles and shakes her head. Unexpectedly, Mina is also here, you can feel she is glazing at you and then turns her head around.

“Hello, Mina. How are you doing?” I ask without pausing.

Mina ignores you and just focuses on her food. Jihyo sees your embarrassment, so she says ‘Um yeah, I invite Mina to come to have some fun on cook with me as you guys are going out later, I hope you don't mind, Y/N.'

'Of course, Oppa would not mind.' Chaeyoung answers. 'Mina eooni, you are really beautiful. Do you have a boyfriend?'

Mina blushes as she hear Chaeyoung's compliments, 'No, I am not that pretty, but thanks Chaeyoung.'

“Well, it’s nice to see you making friends, Jihyo. I’m not mad. Just make sure to tell me or clean up beforehand. It’d be bad manners to have them come into a mess.”

'Yeah, no worry, Y/N. We will make sure to clean the kitchen afterwards.' Jihyo says.

You then head to the bathroom for a shower and get ready to go out with the sisters.

'Damn, Mina eooni is so hot, I wanna sleep with her, you won't mind, right?' Chaeyoung whispers to you when no one noticed. 'After I sleep with her, I can help you to get her too, deal? She's your secretary, so I gonna ask you first.'

You can imagine the scene of Mina and Chaeyoung having sex and even a threesome with you, it's hot.

“No Chaeyoung, me and Mina are going through a rough patch. I haven’t exactly been the best boss. I’ll consider it if you help me get her a gift so I can say sorry.”

'Wouldn't nice sex is the best present for her? From a woman, I can tell she is empty and lonely. Your cock is the most suitable present for her. Let me help you, ok?' Chaeyoung says. 'Look at her ass, wow. It's unbelievable, I just can't wait to sleep with her now.'

'What are you two talking about?' Dahyun comes and asks.

'No, we are just talking about you or me should go first tonight. You got the morning cum so I will go first.' Chaeyoung answers Dahyun playfully while Dahyun blushes when she hears what Chaeyoung says.

'I can do it... As long as Oppa is happy is fine, Oppa's fingers is good too.' Dahyun looks at you shyly.

“Chaeyoung, seriously, I’d rather get her something that shows I care about her.” I whisper.

'What? Care about me? Oppa already care about me a lot.' Dahyun seems confused about the conversation.

'Yeah yeah yeah, oppa of course care about you, he feeds you already this morning.' Chaeyoung smirks.

'Go talk with her now, we will wait for you at the car.' Chaeyoung brings Dahyun to leave then. You look at Jihyo and Mina chatting on the sofa, thinking what you should say.

“Could I talk to you for a second Mina?” I say interrupting their conversation.

Mina is still ignoring you, Jihyo knows what you want, so she excused herself, leaving you and Mina in the living room.

'So, asking Jihyo to find me come today? What do you want? I have nothing wanna say. ' Not addressing herself as 'Minari', you know she is still mad about the 'Dahyun' thing.

You sit beside her, and hold her in your arm, she resists for a while, but eventually give up when you kiss her, she rests in your hug after you break the kiss, waiting for what you gonna say.

“I’m sorry Mina. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but I did and I what to make it up to you. Is there anything I can do for you? To make up for wronging you.”

'You know what Minari wants, can you give it to Minari then?' Mina turns her head away, looking at the window.

'All the things we go through together are still in my memory, I still remember last time you drunk as shit and you called me, I still remember you cried like a baby in my arms, I still remember the interview you hired me. Everything, I remember everything. '

“I’ll try to Mina. I promise to do my best for you.” I hug Mina. “I know Mina, you’ve really had to deal with a lot because of me. I want to be there for you like you were with me.”

Mina put a finger on your lips to stop you,' No, I don't want promises, breaking an unachievable promise would just make my heart break.'

'Let nature takes it course.' Mina leaves your arms and helps you to fix the collar on the shirt, just like a wife helping her husband before he goes to work. You look at her pretty face when she is fixing it, you remember how she treat you all the time, you can't hold on and you hug her again.

'Your sisters are waiting, Boss.'

"I know, Mina. Let’s spend next Friday night together though.”

'Let's see. Some guys already asking me out on that day.' Mina leaves when you are shocked and stand still. You don't expect she is rejecting you.

'I'm ready, Jihyo! Let's make the cake!' Mina yells at Jihyo's room to let her know she is ready.

You looking at the back of Mina, thinking can you accept Mina going out with other men?

Jihyo comes out and see Mina is smiling while you are emotionless, wondering what have happened.

I just slap myself lightly and get down to my car.