#Inkigayo Hot Stage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyunghwannie · 9 days ago

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Impatience

Park Jihyo x M!Reader

➤ Word count: 10810 (Basically pure smut and me going feral for Hyo) ➤ Tags: Fondling/Groping, Messy kissing, Body Worship, Nipple sucking (lots of), BoobJob, Ass eating/sucking, Anal sex, Anal gaping and Creampie,Public Sex, Subtle Degradation, Dual Penetration (Vibrator usage)

➤ Teaser: Park Jihyo? The Leader of our dear TWICE? Oh, she is a total killer with her stage presence, charisma, leadership and surely her smoking visuals. During Inkigayo performing her solo debut title track "Killin' Me Good", She was totally rocking it. But of course, having a hot girlfriend like Jihyo can get you a little.. Impatient in the dressing room waiting for her while watching her performance. But, what's more fun that being caught by herself when you were gawking her recorded performance.

The dressing room is dimly lit, the muffled bassline from Jihyo’s performance still vibrating through the walls. I’m sprawled across the couch, one leg propped up, my fingers drumming impatiently against my thigh—waiting. The muted glow of the flatscreen casts shadows across the room, replaying her stage from moments ago.

And fuck, there she is.

Jihyo materializes on screen, strutting onto the stage like she owns the entire fucking venue. The camera pans up slowly, agonizingly slow—starting from those sinful black heels strapped tight around her ankles, up the toned, caramel-smooth expanse of her legs where the high slit of her skirt teasingly parts to reveal a glimpse of thigh. My teeth sink into my bottom lip. "Oh, shit"

The fabric of her skirt sways with every sharp pivot of her hips, the semi-sheer material fluttering as she spins, barely clinging to the curve of her perfect fucking ass. God, even through the screen, it looks solid—round and tight, flexing visibly under the fabric when she drops into that low crouch, her voice rasping out the bridge with enough heat to melt steel.

"You're killin' me—killin' me good—"

Her crop top rides up just enough to expose the faintest strip of skin above her waistband, taut muscles flexing as she rolls her hips in time with the beat. The arm warmers stretch tight around her biceps, emphasizing every vein, every ridge of lean muscle as she lifts her arms, fingers curling around an imaginary weapon before pointing it dead at the camera. Directly at me.

A shudder runs down my spine. I’m already hard. The realization hits like a punch to the gut—my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans, trapped and aching just from watching her. My palm presses down over the bulge instinctively, biting back a groan as the pressure sends a jolt of pleasure up my spine. Fuck.

The camera lingers on her face now—flushed, lips parted around each breathless lyric, sweat glistening along her collarbone. Her hair whips across her face as she jerks her head to the side, eyes flashing with that familiar fire. That fucking dominance. Jihyo knows what she’s doing. Every smirk, every roll of her shoulders, the way she licks her lips between lines—calculated. Designed to wreck whoever’s watching. Designed to wreck me.

My fingers twitch, itching to grip something—her—instead of the couch cushion I’m currently digging my nails into. The screen flickers as she drops into the final chorus, hips snapping in sharp, hypnotic thrusts, the slit in her skirt gaping wider— "Fuck—!"

My hand is shoved past my waistband before I can stop it, wrapping around my cock with a hiss. It’s burning, slick with pre-cum already, the tip flushed an angry red. I stroke once, twice, thumb smearing wetness over the slit as Jihyo’s voice crescendos on screen."I see you." I freeze.

The screen has cut to a close-up—her eyes locked onto the lens, into it—like she can see right through the camera. Right into this fucking dressing room. Right at me with my dick in my hand like some pathetic, horny fan. My pulse thunders in my ears. She would love this.

The thought slams into me like a truck. Jihyo strutting in later, catching me like this, her perfect brows arching as she takes in the mess of me—jeans shoved down my thighs, hand still wrapped around my cock, TV paused on her mid-performance smirk. That fucking ego of hers would inflate to unbearable levels. Her lips would curl. "Couldn’t even wait for me, baby?"

A groan escapes me, my hips jerking up into my fist at the mental image alone. She’d saunter closer, heels clicking against the floor, her skirt swaying with every step—The door handle rattles. My stomach drops. I yank my hand free like I’ve been burned, heart hammering against my ribs— But the door doesn’t open.

Just some staff member passing by, their shadow pausing briefly under the crack of the door before moving on. I exhale shakily, slumping back against the couch, my cock throbbing with neglect now. The screen still glows, Jihyo frozen mid-step, one hand on her hip, the other still holding that imaginary gun to the camera.

"You’re killin’ me good," her recorded voice purrs. I drag a hand down my face. Yeah. No shit.

The door clicks open. A rush of cool air floods the dressing room, carrying the faint scent of sweat, vanilla body lotion, and something unmistakably her. My head snaps up—

And there she is. Jihyo leans against the doorframe, one hip cocked, strands of her jet-black hair clinging to her glistening neck. Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, the delicate swell of her tits straining against the tight crop top as she exhales. A bead of sweat rolls defiantly down the valley between them, disappearing under the fabric. My mouth goes dry.

"Missed me?" Her voice is low, still thrumming with the adrenaline of performance, laced with that knowing lilt that makes my stomach tighten. I force a casual smirk, shifting slightly to angle my hips away—but it’s too late. Her sharp eyes flick down, zeroing in on the unmistakable outline still pressing against my jeans. Fuck.

Her lips part—first in surprise, then in delight, a slow, feline grin spreading across her face.

"Oh?" She pushes off the door, swinging it shut with her heel before strolling toward me. The slit in her skirt parts with every step, revealing flashes of toned thigh, still damp from exertion. "What’s this?"

I exhale through my nose. "You." A heartbeat. Then her laugh—rich, melodic, and smug as hell—fills the room. "Me?" She stops just inches away, tilting her head. "Little ol’ me made this happen?" Her fingers ghost over the bulge, nails scraping lightly through the denim I grit my teeth against the shudder that races up my spine. "You know exactly what you do to me.".

Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip. Bad idea. Now my cock is fully hard again, straining against the zipper, fucking aching for her. Jihyo hums, tapping one manicured finger against her chin. "Mmm, let me guess…" She leans in, her breath hot against my ear. "Was it the heel pop ?" Her hips sway, mimicking the movement. "Or—" Her hand slides up my chest, nails biting just enough to sting. "—when I dropped on the floor?" she mimicked the hair brush move with a slight arch of her chest without dropping on floor

A groan tears from my throat. "You’re a fucking nightmare."

She grins, all teeth. "Your nightmare." Her palm presses down, rubbing slow circles over my cock through my jeans. "And you love it."

I don’t deny it. Why would I? Her ego doesn’t need the boost, but fuck if it isn’t hot watching her preen under the admission. Her tits push forward as she arches subtly, shoulders rolling back, that pride settling into her bones. "Good," she purrs. "Now tell me—" Her grip tightens. "—did you touch yourself?"

The question catches me off guard. My hesitation is all the answer she needs. Her eyes darken. "How much?"

I swallow. "Just—a little." A lie. Jihyo sees right through it. With a scoff, she drops to her knees between my legs, hands hooking into my waistband. "Pathetic," she murmurs, but there’s no malice—just heat. "Couldn’t even wait for me to finish?"

My hips jerk as she yanks my jeans down, my cock springing free, already leaking. Her breath hitches. For all her bravado, Jihyo adores this—the size, the weight of me in her hands, the way her fingers barely meet when she wraps them around the base. She exhales shakily, thumb swiping over the tip, smearing pre-cum across the sensitive head.

"Look at you," she whispers, voice gone rough. "So fucking desperate for me."

I don’t argue. Can’t. Not when she leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just below the head, her tongue flicking out to taste me. "Jihyo—" She smirks up at me, lashes fluttering. "Mm?"

And then—without warning—she swallows me down. Fuck. Her mouth is fire, tight and wet and starving, her tongue flattening against the underside as she bobs her head. The sounds are obscene—wet slurps, choked-off gasps when I thrust up instinctively, the pop of her lips pulling off just to dive back in.

Her fingers dig into my thighs, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake. I fist her hair, guiding her pace, but she slaps my hand away. "Mine," she growls around my cock, the vibration tearing a ragged groan from my chest. And fuck, she is. Every damn inch.

She pulls off with a lewd shlick, saliva stringing between her lips and my dick. Her chest heaves, her crop top straining dangerously over her tits. "Still think I’m smoking hot?" she taunts, breathless. I yank her up by the arm, crashing her into my lap. "I think," I grind out, mouth finding her pulse point, "you’re insufferable."

She laughs, high and breathy, grinding down against me. "Liar." Then her lips are on mine, messy and desperate, her hands fumbling for the clasp of her skirt. The snap of it hitting the floor is the last coherent sound before the room dissolves into heat.

Jihyo pulls back just as my fingers brush the hem of her skirt, her lips swollen from our kiss. There's a dangerous glint in her eyes—the kind that warns she's about to make me work for it.

"Not so fast," she breathes, fingers clasping the fabric shut with a teasing click. "You didn’t answer my question."

My hands flex uselessly against her thighs before dropping to my sides. "I did. I said I loved the whole damn outfit."

She tsks, shaking her head. "Too vague." Her palm presses flat against my chest, pushing me back against the couch. "Pick. One. Thing." A smirk tugs at her lips as she leans in, her breath hot against my jaw. "Or I walk out that door with this skirt still on… and your cock throbbing all alone."

My teeth grind together. She would do it. Jihyo loves power—loves the chase, the control, loves watching me unravel just because she can. But I know her better than that. "Fine." My voice drops, rough with want. "Your tits." A pause. Then she laughs—loud, unfiltered, her head tipping back in delight. "Wow. Original." But her pupils are blown wide, her fingers twitching against her skirt. I smirk. "You asked."

"I thought you’d be more creative," she sighs, rolling her eyes—but her nipples are peaked under her crop top, betraying her. "Every ONCE with an internet connection talks about my tits."

"Not like this." My hands slide up her thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just below her hips. "They don’t know how fucking heavy they are when they’re bouncing in their face."

Her breath catches. "Don’t know how they taste," I continue, shifting forward until my bulge grinds against her. "Or how you whine when someone sucks them raw."

Jihyo exhales sharply, her grip on her shorts loosening. Got her. I seize the opportunity, yanking the fabric down her legs in one smooth motion. She stumbles, knees buckling, but I catch her, flipping us so she’s pinned beneath me on the couch. "Y/N—!"

"You wanted compliments," I murmur against her throat, biting lightly. "Now take them." My palms skim up her stomach, dragging her crop top with them until the swells of her tits are bare, flushed pink and heaving. Fuck. They’re perfect—full and heavy, nipples stiff and begging for attention. The second my thumbs swipe over them, Jihyo arches off the couch, a broken moan spilling from her lips. "See?" I pinch one lightly, watching her thighs clench. "Filthy and honest."

She glares, but it’s ruined by the way her hips roll up, seeking friction. "Asshole," she gasps. "Your asshole." Her hand darts down, finally wrapping around my cock, and we both groan at the contact. "Tell me more," she demands, stroking me slowly, her thumb swiping over the head. "What else do you love?"

I yank her leggings down just enough to expose her, fingers sliding through her folds. She’s soaked, clinging to my fingers the second they dip inside. "This," I growl. "How fucking wet you get just from me saying yes, Jihyo, your tits are god-tier—" She whimpers, her thighs trembling. Her grip on my cock tightens. "Keep going." So I do.

The moment my lips close around her left nipple, Jihyo's entire body jerks beneath me. A sharp gasp tears from her throat as I suck hard, swirling my tongue roughly against the stiff peak. Her fingers immediately tangle in my hair, not pulling me closer but trying to push me away. "Ah! Y/N—!" Her voice is equal parts pleasure and reprimand, that familiar leader tone cutting through despite how breathless she sounds. "Slow the fuck down or I'm gonna— ngh~!"

I release her nipple with an obscene pop, looking up to see her flushed face twisted in frustration. A string of saliva still connects my mouth to her dusky pink nipple, now glistening and even darker from my attention. "Sorry, baby," I murmur, not sorry at all as I gently thumb her right nipple through the bunched-up fabric of her crop top. "Just couldn't help myself. You're too fucking perfect."

Jihyo exhales sharply through her nose, her chest still heaving. "I swear to god, you're like a fucking puppy seeing tits for the first time," she grumbles, but the way her hips subtly roll against nothing betrays her.

Leaning down again, I make sure to go slower this time, teasing the stiff peak with soft kitten licks before gently sucking it into my mouth. Jihyo's breath hitches, her fingers tightening in my hair - not pushing me away now, but holding me there. "There you go," she murmurs, her voice dropping an octave into that sultry register that makes my cock twitch against her thigh. "Good boy~"

The praise sends a bolt of heat straight to my groin. I moan around her nipple, increasing the suction just slightly as my left hand finally slips under her crop top to palm her right breast. Fuck, they're even better without barriers - so impossibly soft yet heavy in my hand, the perfect handful with her nipple pebbled against my palm.

Jihyo's breathing grows ragged above me, her thighs tensing as I switch between thorough, slow sucks and flicking my tongue rapidly against just the tip of her nipple. Every time pleasure starts to crest, I ease off, keeping her teetering on the edge as commanded.

"F-fuck," she whimpers, her usual composure crumbling. Her free hand grips the couch cushions so hard her knuckles turn white. "Why do you— ngh~!— have to be so good at this?"

I pull back just enough to respond, my lips brushing against her damp skin. "Because you're fucking perfect, Jihyo." My thumb rolls her other nipple as I speak. "Perfect tits, perfect voice, perfect fucking everything."

The compliment makes her arch into my touch, a shudder running through her toned body. "Cheesy... bastard," she pants, but there's no bite to it - just that breathless arousal that tells me she's loving every second of this.

Returning my mouth to her breast, I lose myself in the taste of her skin, the way her heartbeat thrums against my tongue, the little hitches in her breath that tell me exactly what she likes. The crop top remains bunched up around her chest, framing her tits obscenely - like some lewd photoshoot she'd never dare do for the cameras but has no problem letting me enjoy. Every soft suck, every graze of teeth makes her thighs tremble against mine, her grip in my hair alternating between gentle encouragement and sudden, needy tugs when I hit just the right spot.

And through it all, one thought pounds in my head with every beat of my racing heart: Why the fuck is she so perfect?

My left hand trails down from her breast, fingertips skating over the smooth dip of her waist, the subtle tremble of her abs as they tense beneath my touch. But the second I reach the swell of her hip, Jihyo knows where I’m heading—her breath hitches, her thighs parting just a fraction wider in silent permission. Fuck.

Her ass is unreal—thick and toned, the kind of perfect handful that makes my fingers dig in instinctively, squeezing hard enough to hear her gasp. The sheer black fabric of her skirt does nothing to hide the give of her flesh under my grip, the way it jiggles slightly before settling back into that perfect, heart-shaped curve.

"Look at you," Jihyo pants above me, her voice dripping with lazy amusement even as her hips cant up into my touch. "Like a fucking starving man at a buffet."

I groan against her nipple, sucking harder in retaliation, relishing the way her fingers yank at my hair. "That’s right," she continues, rolling her hips so my palm grinds against her ass cheek with filthy, deliberate pressure. "Pathetic. Can’t even keep your hands to yourself for five minutes— ah!~" My thumb slips lower, brushing the crease where her thigh meets her ass, and her voice cracks. I smirk. "You love it."

She hates when I’m right. Her hand fists in my hair, wrenching my head back until I’m forced to release her nipple with a wet pop, our eyes locking. "I love," she says slowly, her free hand trailing down to trace the outline of my cock through my pants, "that you’re obsessed." A sharp nail drags over the head, making me twitch. "That you get hard just looking at me."

I bite my tongue to keep from moaning. Her grin widens. "That you’d beg to bury your face between my legs if I told you to." Fuck. My fingers flex against her ass almost involuntarily, pulling her closer, my thumb just brushing the edge of her soaked panties. Jihyo’s breath hitches, but her voice stays steady—mocking. "Go on." She arches a brow, daring me. "Tell me how bad you want it." My grip tightens. "You know how bad."

"Say it." The demand hangs between us, heavy with promise. I exhale, leaning forward until my lips brush the shell of her ear. "I’d fucking worship you," I growl, my thumb finally slipping beneath the hem of her panties, tracing slick, heated skin. "Get on my knees and thank god for making you this perfect."

Jihyo shudders, her composure cracking. "Good boy," she breathes—right before yanking me back down to her tits. The moment my fingers slip beneath the damp fabric of her panties, Jihyo gasps—a sharp, punched-out sound that vibrates through her chest and into my mouth where I’m still latched onto her nipple. Her back arches off the couch, pressing her tits harder against my face, her skin flushed and fever-hot.

Fuck. She’s dripping. My middle finger slides through her folds with obscene ease, gathering the slick that coats her, the pad of my finger catching on her swollen clit just to hear her whine. "Y/N—!"

I don’t let up. My tongue flicks faster over her nipple, sucking it deep into my mouth as my fingers work her in slow, teasing circles. The contrast is deliberate—rough where she’s sensitive, gentle where she’s aching—and it’s driving her insane. Jihyo’s thighs tremble around my wrist, her hips rolling desperately into my touch. "F-fuck, harder—"

I obey, crooking two fingers inside her without warning, relishing the way her cunt clenches, pulsing around me. "Look at you," I murmur against her breast, my voice wrecked. "So fucking wet for me." And she is—god, she is.

Her crop top is rucked up around her ribs, her tits glistening with spit, her nipples dark and pebbled from my mouth. The black short is shoved haphazardly up her thighs. Jihyo’s head thrashes against the couch, her lips parted around ragged moans. "Y-you—ah!—you like this, don’t you?" she pants, nails scraping down my biceps. "Seeing me—ngh—fall apart?"

I groan, fucking her faster, my thumb pressing firm circles against her clit. "Love it." Her breath hitches. "Say it again."

"I love it," I mumbled, dragging my teeth over her nipple. "Love how fucking perfect you are. Love your boobs, your ass, this pussy—" I curl my fingers, and she screams, her back bowing off the couch. "Love that you’re mine."

Jihyo’s orgasm crashes over her like a wave—her cunt flutters around my fingers, her thighs clamping around my wrist as she rides it out, her moans high and broken. When she finally collapses, boneless and panting, I pull my fingers free, bringing them to my lips without breaking eye contact. Her gaze darkens as I lick them clean. "You," she breathes, "are insufferable." I smirk. "Your insufferable." Then I’m yanking her up, crushing our mouths together, tasting her moan on my tongue.

The moment our lips crash together, all restraint shatters. Jihyo's mouth is hot against mine—demanding, hungry—her teeth catching my bottom lip in a sharp bite before soothing it with her tongue. I groan into the kiss, one hand fisting in her sweat-dampened hair, the other sliding possessively down the curve of her spine to grip her ass hard enough to leave fingerprints.

She whimpers, her nails raking down my bare chest before scraping over my nipples, wringing a ragged moan from my throat. The sound only spurs her on—her hips grind down against mine, her soaked panties leaving a damp streak on my abs as she chases the friction. Our tongues tangle messily, the kiss wet and gasping, neither of us willing to pull away for air.

Jihyo's hands roam greedily—palming the sculpted planes of my shoulders, squeezing my biceps hard enough to bruise, her thumbs tracing the deep ridges of my hipbones before dipping beneath the waistband of my jeans.

I shudder, my own hands mapping the sinful slopes of her body—the dip of her waist, the swell of her tits, the muscle of her thighs flexing as she straddles me. We break apart only when the need for oxygen becomes unbearable, our foreheads pressed together as we pant. "Fuck," she breathes, her lips swollen and glistening. "Yeah," I agree hoarsely, tightening my grip on her ass. She grins against my mouth before diving back in.

Jihyo breaks our sloppy kiss with a feral little smirk, our swollen lips still connected by a thin string of spit. Her fingers skate down my bare chest, blunt nails raking over every sculpted ridge of my abs before stopping right above where my cock strains painfully against my jeans.

"Mmm, look at you~" Her breath is hot against my ear as she shifts her weight, making her delicious thighs squeeze around my hips. "All sweet and tender with me like some lovesick puppy... but this..." Her palm presses down, making me groan as she strokes my hardening length. "...tells a different story, doesn't it?"

I grab her wrist, nipping at her pulse point just to hear her gasp. "Only ever sweet for y—" My voice cuts off with a choked sound as she produces a damn lube bottle from her shorts pocket—strawberry-flavored, the garish pink label nearly glowing in the dim backstage lighting. My cock jerks violently when she shakes it with a devious wink. "Ji—fuck—is that even—"

"Relax, worrywart," she laughs, popping the cap open with her teeth—god fucking damn it—before squirting a slick, translucent glob onto her fingers. The artificial sweetness mixes with her natural vanilla scent, making my mouth water. "Hypoallergenic, gynecologist-approved, and..." Her tongue darts out to taste it from her own fingers, "...kinda tasty. Wanna try?"

But my attention isn't on the lube anymore. Because holy shit—with one fluid motion, Jihyo yanks her wrinkled crop top over her head and tosses it aside, revealing those legendary milkers in all their bare, warm skinned glory. No bra. No barriers. Just smooth, sun-kissed skin stretched over plush curves, her dusky areolas already pebbled tight from anticipation. Fuck me sideways. I really am this fucking gone for her.

My hands fly up instinctively—desperate to palm those perfect handfuls, to weigh them in my grip—but Jihyo clicks her tongue, pressing a sticky lube-coated finger against my lips.

"Uh-uh," she chastises, rolling her hips in a slow grind that has the sheer overlay of her faux skirt riding up around her waist. The slit parts wantonly, giving me a sinful eyeful of her toned thighs flexing as she works me over. "Eyes up here, baby." She taps my chin. "Unless you want me to stop..."

The threat hangs between us as her slick fingers trail down my torso, leaving glistening streaks over my abs. I shudder when she swirls around my nipple, her touch unbearably light—teasing. "Well?" She leans in, her untethered breasts brushing my chest as she nips at my jaw. "What's my good boy gonna say to get what he wants?"

The moment I hit her with those puppy dog eyes - lips slightly pouted, lashes fluttering with exaggerated innocence - something dangerous flashes across Jihyo's face. Her grip tightens in my hair as she leans back, studying my expression with narrowed eyes. "Oh no you don't," she murmurs, voice dripping with mock warning. "You think that cute shit works on me after three years?"

I let my bottom lip tremble just slightly, watching with barely contained amusement as her resolve visibly wavers. Her thighs clench around my hips, that perfect pout of hers starting to twitch at the corners. Then I burst out laughing.

"Yah!" Jihyo's scandalized shriek echoes through the dressing room as she swats my chest, her warm skin flushing that gorgeous rosy pink I love. "You little shit - I was going to let you have these!" She gestures dramatically at her bare breasts, the motion making those perfect handfuls jiggle enticingly. I'm still chuckling as I reach for her, hands hovering just inches from her skin. "Sorry, sorry~ I just love when you get all pretend-mad. Your nose scrunches up right he-"

My apology cuts off in a strangled groan as Jihyo's lube-slicked hand suddenly plunges onto my cocm, her fingers wrapping around my aching length with punishing tightness. The sudden friction burns deliciously - whether from the warming lube or her spiteful grip, I can't tell.

"Now you'll really have to beg," she purrs, leaning down so her untethered breasts brush tantalizingly against my chest with every breath. Her thumb strokes slow, torturous circles around my swollen tip, gathering the pre-cum beading there. "Properly this time. None of that faux-cute bullshit."

I bite back another laugh at how offended she sounds, even as my hips buck helplessly into her touch. "Jihyo baby-"

"Nope." Her grip loosens immediately, withdrawing just enough to make me whimper. "Full sentences. Tell me exactly what you want to do to these." She arches her back, making her magnificent mounds sway hypnotically. The stray stage lights catch the sheen of sweat still glistening in her cleavage from her earlier performance.

My mouth waters as I take in the sight - her dusky nipples pebbled tight from the cool dressing room air, that subtle bounce as she shifts her weight, the way her areolas darken when I ghost my fingers just millimeters above them.

"I... fuck..." My brain short-circuits when she gives one experimental pump, her thumb smearing lube and pre-cum messily down my shaft. "I want to suck them until you scream. Bite just hard enough to make your back arch. See if I can make you cum just from playing with your nipples while I finger you-"

Jihyo's breath hitch is music to my ears. Her fingers stutter around me, that perfect composure cracking as her thighs squeeze reflexively around mine. I can feel her damp heat even through the fabric of her shorts.

"Good start," she manages, trying (and failing) to sound unaffected. Her free hand comes up to tweak her own nipple, showing off just how fucking responsive she is. "But I think-"

I cut her off by surging forward, finally capturing one pebbled peak between my teeth. Jihyo's surprised yelp turns into a wanton moan as I switch to lavish attention on her other breast, my tongue lathing broad stripes across the stiff bud.

"Cheater!" she gasps, but her hips are already rolling against nothing, her grip on my cock tightening in retaliation. "I didn't say you could- ah!~"

The rest of her protest dissolves into a high-pitched whine as I suck hard, my fingers finding their way back under her shorts to plunge into her soaking wet heat. The strawberry lube mixes with her natural slickness, creating the filthiest sounds as I finger fuck her in time with my mouth on her breasts. "Y/N I swear to god if you make me cum before I get to ride you-"

My response is to crook my fingers just right, hitting that spongy spot inside her that makes her legs shake. Jihyo's threat cuts off with a strangled cry, her back bowing beautifully as she spills over my fingers, her thighs clamping down hard enough to bruise. When she finally comes down, panting and flushed, I lick my lips and give her my sweetest smile. "...please?"

The look she gives me could melt steel. Jihyo’s entire body trembles as she comes down from her high, her thighs still quivering around my fingers buried deep inside her. Her chest rises and falls in erratic bursts, her bare breasts glistening with a sheen of sweat—nipples red and puffy from my relentless attention. Then her eyes snap open. "You," she breathes, voice dripping with venomous sweetness, "are fucked."

Before I can even smirk, she wrenches my hand away from her soaked core, pinning both my wrists to the couch with surprising strength. The movement makes her tits jiggle enticingly, but the warning in her gaze keeps me from enjoying the view too much.

"No touching," she orders, shifting back just enough to be near my pelvic area. My cock was stone hard, angry red and throbbing, precum beading at the tip. "Not your hands. Not your mouth. Nothing."

I open my mouth to protest—"Ah!" She presses a single finger to my lips, her other hand wrapping around my shaft in a punishing grip. "You don’t get to talk either." Then she strokes. Fuck. Her palm is still slick with her own arousal, the mix of her juices and strawberry lube creating an obscenely wet glide as she pumps me from root to tip. Her thumb swipes over the head on every upstroke, smearing precum in tight circles that make my abs clench. I bite down on a groan, my hips jerking instinctively, but Jihyo tsks, slowing her pace to a torturous crawl. "Uh-uh," she murmurs, leaning down until her breath ghosts over my leaking cock. "You don’t get to move either."

Her free hand trails up my stomach, nails scraping lightly over my abs before pinching a nipple hard. The sharp sting races straight to my groin, my cock twitching violently in her grip. "Look at you," she coos, her voice saccharine. "So desperate to fuck me, and yet..." Her grip tightens, her thumb pressing just under the head where I’m most sensitive. "...all you get is this."

I grit my teeth, my thighs trembling with the effort to stay still. Jihyo’s smirk widens as she watches me struggle, her strokes agonizingly slow, her fingers just shy of the rhythm I need.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours—my cock aching, my balls drawn up tight, every muscle in my body coiled to the point of pain. Sweat beads at my temples, my breath coming in ragged gasps as Jihyo edges me with sadistic precision.

Then—finally—she picks up the pace. Her hand flies over my length, her spit-slicked fingers working me with brutal efficiency. I’m right there, teetering on the edge, my vision whiting out—"Wait—fuck, Jihyo, I’m gonna—"

She slows again, her grip loosening just enough to keep me hovering. "Not yet," she purrs, her thumb pressing down on that spot beneath the head, making me whine. "I want you dripping when you finally get to cum." I groan, my head falling back against the couch. "You’re evil." She laughs—bright and melodic—before leaning down to lick a stripe up my shaft. "And you love it."

Then her hand is moving again, fast and lewd, her fingers twisting just right on every upstroke. This time, she doesn’t stop. "Cum," she orders, her voice low and rough. "Now." I explode. Rope after rope of cum spills over her fingers, my hips jerking uncontrollably as she milks me through it, her grip unrelenting. She watches with rapt attention as I pulse in her hand, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

When I finally slump back, boneless and spent, Jihyo brings her cum-coated fingers to her mouth—slowly—sucking them clean with obscene pops of her lips. "Mmm," she hums, licking a stray drop from her thumb. "Did you change your diet? This tastes sweeter than usual."

I blink up at her, still dazed. "Maybe... Up-ed more fruit...." She grins, leaning down to kiss me—deep and sloppy, letting me taste myself on her tongue. "Good boy." Jihyo’s fingers trail down my chest, sticky with my cum, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as she leans in close. "Slump back," she orders, her voice low and husky. "Hips forward. I want you right where I need you."

I don’t hesitate. My back sinks into the couch, my cock—still half-hard and twitching—jutting up between us, glistening with remnants of lube and spit. Jihyo watches me with that look, the one that says she’s about to ruin me in the best way possible. Then she reaches for the discarded lube bottle, squeezing a generous amount into my waiting palm. "Your turn," she murmurs, guiding my hands to her chest. "Make them perfect for you."

Fuck. The moment my slick fingers touch her skin, she shudders, her breath hitching as I massage the lube into her tits, kneading the plush flesh with slow, worshipful strokes. The warmth of the formula makes her even softer, her nipples pebbling under my touch as I work her over, my thumbs circling the stiff peaks. "God, Jihyo," I groan, my voice rough. "You have no idea how fucking good these feel."

She arches into my touch, her lips parting around a quiet moan. "Tell me." I don’t need to be asked twice. "They’re perfect," I murmur, squeezing gently, watching them spill between my fingers. "So fucking full—like they were made just for me to touch." My thumbs flick over her nipples, making her gasp. "And these? Fuck. I could suck on them for hours and never get bored."

Jihyo’s eyelashes flutter, her chest rising faster as my words sink in. She loves this—loves being adored, worshipped, craved. And I love giving it to her. "You’re obsessed," she breathes, but there’s no bite to it—just pure, unfiltered pleasure at being wanted like this. "Damn right I am," I growl, dragging my palms up to her collarbones before sliding back down, coating every inch of her in slick warmth. "I’d worship these every fucking day if you let me."

She exhales sharply, her thighs tightening around mine. "Y/N—"

"I’d wake up just to suck them," I continue, my voice dropping lower. "Fall asleep with them in my mouth. Fuck, I’d die happy if I could bury my face between them one last time."

Jihyo whimpers, her hips rolling instinctively, seeking friction she won’t get—not yet. Then, with a slow, deliberate shift, she slides off my lap, sinking to her knees between my legs. "You talk too much," she teases, but her hands are already lifting her tits, pressing them together around my cock. "Let’s see if you can handle what you’ve been begging for."

The first slide is heaven. Her slick, warm skin engulfs me, her tits molding perfectly around my length as she starts to move. Up, down, tight—her cleavage is a sinful, wet vice, her nipples brushing against the sensitive underside of my cock with every stroke. "Fuck—Jihyo—" My head falls back, my fingers digging into the couch. "You feel—fuck—you feel unreal."

She smirks, her pace just slow enough to be torturous. "You like that, baby?" Her tongue darts out, licking the tip every time it peeks out from between her tits. "All that begging just to get my boobs around you?"

I groan, my hips jerking up instinctively—but she clamps down, her hands pressing her breasts tighter, trapping me in that perfect, slick heat. "Ah-ah," she chides, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "You don’t get to move until I say so." Fuck. She’s going to kill me. And I’m going to love every second of it.

Her breasts glide over my cock like silk, slick with lube and the heat of her skin. Every slow, deliberate stroke sends shivers up my spine, my hips twitching helplessly as she works me over with those perfect handfuls.

"Fuck—Jihyo—" My voice is ragged, my fingers digging into the couch. "You’re so fucking beautiful." The words spill out of me like a prayer, raw and unfiltered. "Your skin—god—it’s like fucking gold under these lights." My hand lifts on instinct, thumb brushing the curve of her breast, tracing the warm, sun-kissed hue that glows even in the dim backstage lighting. "So soft. So perfect."

Jihyo’s rhythm stutters. For a second, her hands still, her tits tightening around me in a way that makes my breath catch. Then—slowly—her grin softens, something wistful flickering in her dark eyes. "Say that again," she murmurs, her voice quieter now.

I don’t hesitate. "You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met," I breathe, my thumb stroking her collarbone. "Every fucking inch of you—your skin, your curves, this—" My hips jerk slightly, emphasizing where I’m trapped between her breasts. "—it’s all perfect."

Her lips part, her chest rising with a shaky inhale. And then—fuck—I see it. The flicker of something old, something aching, in the way her lashes lower just a fraction. The ghost of past insecurities, of years spent under scrutiny, of comments about how she wasn’t the "right" shade of pale, how her body wasn’t the "right" kind of slim.

My stomach twists. "Jihyo." My voice drops, my free hand cupping her cheek. "Look at me." She does, reluctantly. "You’re stunning," I say, my thumb brushing her lower lip. "Not despite your skin, or your curves—because of them. Every fucking thing people tried to make you hate about yourself? That’s what I worship."

Her breath hitches. For a moment, the air between us shifts—warm, heavy, real. Her eyes search mine, and I see it—the quiet relief, the way her shoulders relax just a fraction, like she’s finally letting go of a weight she didn’t realize she was still carrying.

Then—because she’s Jihyo—she ruins it of course.

"Mmm, good answer," she purrs, suddenly squeezing her tits hard around my cock, her nails digging into my thighs. "Now beg for me to let you cum." I groan, my head thudding back against the couch. God, this woman.

Her breasts are a masterpiece in motion. Jihyo’s hands cup the full, supple weight of her tits, pressing them together with just the right amount of pressure—warm, slick, and sinfully tight around my aching cock. The lube we’d slathered over her skin glistens under the dressing room lights, turning every slow, deliberate slide into a wet, intoxicating heaven. "F-fuck—Jihyo—!" My voice is ruined, my hips jerking weakly against her grip.

She’s merciless. Every upward stroke drags the sensitive head of my cock against the soft underside of her breasts, her nipples brushing the shaft in a way that makes my thighs tremble. Then, as she sinks back down, her cleavage envelops me completely, the heat of her skin almost burning as she milks me with slow, torturous rolls of her chest. I’m drowning in her.

My fingers claw at the couch, sweat dripping down my temples as I try—desperately—to hold back. But the way those perfect tits swallow me whole, the way her breath hitches every time I twitch inside her grip— "You close?" she teases, her voice a husky purr. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, watching me with half-lidded eyes. "I can feel you pulsing~"

I choke on a moan, my cock throbbing between her breasts. She knows. So she slows down. "Jihyo—please—" Her grin is downright wicked. "Please what, baby?" The sensation is unbearable—every nerve in my body is screaming, my balls drawn up tight, my release hovering just on the edge of oblivion.

And then—"Cum." That’s all she says. One word. One command. And I break.

My orgasm crashes over me like a fucking tidal wave—my back arcs off the couch, my cock exploding between her tits with thick, messy ropes of cum. It splatters across her collarbones, her chest, her chin—some even lands in her dark, tousled hair. But she doesn’t stop.

Her hands keep moving, her tits sliding up and down my oversensitive cock, milking out every. Last. Drop. until I’m shuddering and whining, my eyelids fluttering from the sheer overload of pleasure.

Then—She leans down, her lips wrapping around the head of my cock in one filthy suck, her tongue swirling to gather the last streaks of cum clinging to me. The sensation is too much—I gasp, my hips jerking weakly against her mouth as she hums in satisfaction.

When she pulls back, her lips are sticky and swollen, her face glazed with my cum. "Mmm," she muses, licking her lips deliberately. "I love how much you adore me~" I slump back, boneless and ruined, my chest heaving. God, I love this woman.

Jihyo sways toward the vanity, her hips rolling with every step, the sheer black overlay of her shorts fluttering like a dark halo around her thighs. The mirror catches her reflection—cum still glistening on her chin, her tits, the sharp line of her collarbone. She meets my gaze in the glass as her tongue darts out, slow and deliberate, licking a stripe up her palm to clean off my spent arousal.

Fuck.

Even post-nut, my cock twitches violently against my thigh.

Then—God help me—she wiggles.

A deliberate, teasing shift of her hips, the curve of her ass flexing under the tight black fabric of her shorts. The attached veil parts with the movement, giving me a glimpse of the shadow between her thighs before it falls back into place.

That’s my signal.

I’m on my feet before I can think, my jeans kicked off in a haphazard pile as I close the distance between us. Jihyo doesn’t turn—just watches me through the mirror, her lips curling as I drop to my knees behind her, my hands sliding up the backs of her thighs.

"Like what you see?" she murmurs, arching her back just enough to emphasize the round, heavy swell of her ass.

My answer is to press an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of her cheek through the fabric, nipping lightly at the silk-covered flesh. Jihyo chuckles, the sound low and throaty, before reaching back to tap my wrist.

"Off," she orders.

I don’t hesitate.

My fingers hook into the waistband of her shorts, peeling them down her legs with reverent slowness. The black silk panties underneath cling to her skin, damp with her arousal, the fabric darkened between her thighs.

Not lace today.

I groan, nuzzling the crease where her ass meets her thigh, breathing in the intoxicating mix of her sweat and the faint sweetness of whatever expensive soap she uses. My tongue drags a hot, wet stripe over the silk, tasting her through the fabric before biting the edge of the panties and tugging them down.

Jihyo gasps, her hands bracing against the vanity as I strip her completely, her shorts and panties pooling at her ankles before she kicks them aside with one graceful foot.

Then—finally—she’s bare.

And God, what a sight.

Her ass is art—full and heavy, the flesh trembling slightly as she shifts her weight. The skin here is even softer than her tits, the kind of plush that begs to be bitten, marked, worshipped. My hands squeeze greedily, kneading the supple flesh before spreading her cheeks apart, exposing the tight, pink furl of her rim.

"Fuck, Jihyo," I rasp, my thumbs tracing the delicate skin. "You’re perfect."

She shivers, her hips pushing back slightly. "Then show me," she breathes, her voice thick. "Be good for me, baby."

I don’t need to be told twice.

My tongue licks a broad, wet stripe from her soaked slit up to her asshole, savoring the way she jerks against me.

"Y/N—!"

I groan against her skin, my grip tightening as I dive back in, feasting. Her taste is addictive—heady and hers, with just the faintest hint of something floral beneath. The soap, maybe, but mostly it’s just Jihyo, warm and musky and alive under my tongue.

I eat her out like a man starved, my lips and teeth and tongue working her rim with filthy, wet devotion. Every flick, every suck makes her thighs tremble, her moans pitching higher as she grinds back against my face.

"That’s it," she purrs, one hand tangling in my hair to guide me deeper. "Just like that—fuck, you’re so good at this—"

I redouble my efforts, my nose buried in her cunt as my tongue spears into her ass, fucking her in tight little circles. The sounds alone are obscene—wet slurps, her ragged gasps, the slick slide of my mouth on her skin.

And then—

She clenches.

"I’m—ah—close," she whimpers, her fingers tightening in my hair. "Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—"

I don’t.

I suck her rim like I’m dying of thirst, my free hand slipping between her thighs to rub frantic circles over her clit.

Jihyo shatters with a cry, her back bowing, her ass pressing hard against my face as she cums—squeezing around my tongue like she wants to milk the pleasure straight from my bones.

When she finally slumps forward, panting, I pull back just enough to lick my lips.

"Told you," I murmur, pressing a kiss to the swell of her ass. "Perfect."

Her laugh is breathless, wrecked—beautiful. "You’re insatiable."

I grin against her skin. "Only for you."

The moment Jihyo's command leaves her lips, my entire body thrums with anticipation. My tongue drags one last lingering stripe up her soaked slit, collecting her essence like it's the finest ambrosia. Her thighs tremble against my cheeks, sticky with her arousal, as I pull back just enough to admire the glistening mess I've made of her.

"Lube me up, puppy," she purrs, arching her back to present her ass like an offering. "I want to feel every inch of you splitting me open."

Fuck.

My cock twitches violently at her words, already half-hard again despite having just come minutes ago. I reach for the discarded strawberry lube, coating my fingers thickly before pushing her cheeks apart with my thumbs. The sight alone is obscene—her tight rim clenching around nothing, her puffy pink folds glistening just below. I drizzle more lube directly onto her hole, watching as it drips down in slow, sticky rivulets.

"Look at you," I growl, pressing a single lubed fingertip against her entrance. "My exclusive little slut, begging to be stuffed in both holes like some cheap toy."

Jihyo moans, pushing back against my finger. "Shut up and fuck me already, you eager—ah~!"

Her words cut off into a sharp gasp as I sink my finger knuckle-deep into her ass, twisting slowly to stretch her. The heat is unreal, her walls clamping down like a vise as I work her open with torturous patience.

"So fucking tight," I groan, adding a second finger alongside the first. "Gonna milk my cock dry when I finally fuck this greedy hole, aren't you?"

Jihyo's breath hitches, her hips rocking back onto my fingers. "Y-yes—fuck—just like that—!"

Then—

"Vibrator. Now," she demands, jerking her chin toward her bag.

I don't hesitate.

The sleek purple toy is exactly where she said it'd be, still in its velvet pouch like some sacred relic. I flick it on, the sudden buzz slicing through the air as I kneel back between her thighs.

"DP, huh?" I smirk, trailing the vibrating tip up her soaked slit. "My perfect slut wants to be ruined tonight, is that it?"

Jihyo's answering grin is feral. "Prove you can handle me, dog."

Challenge accepted.

I press the vibrator against her clit first, relishing the way her entire body jolts, her ass clamping down on my fingers. Then—slowly—I guide it inside her pussy, inch by inch, until the base is flush against her swollen lips.

"F-FUCK!" Jihyo's nails scrape against the vanity, her reflection flushing as the vibrations ripple through her. "O-oh God—!"

I grin, twisting my fingers deeper into her ass, scissoring her open as the vibrator thrums inside her cunt. The overlapping sensations have her squirming, her thighs trembling as pleasure and overwhelm battle for dominance.

"That's it," I croon, my free hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. "Take it like the filthy little slut you are."

Jihyo whimpers, her head dropping forward. "M-more—please—!"

I oblige, adding a third finger to her ass, stretching her even wider as the vibrator fucks her pussy in relentless pulses. The sounds are disgusting—wet squelches, the slick slap of skin on skin, her broken moans echoing off the mirrors.

"Look at yourself," I said, forcing her to meet her own gaze in the mirror. "See how wrecked you are?."

Her pupils are blown, her lips parted around ragged gasps as she watches herself get devoured.

"Y-yours," she chokes out, her hips grinding back against me. "Always—ah~!— yours!"

The moment Jihyo gives the command to fuck her now, my body moves on instinct. I rise from kneeling behind her, my hands gripping the supple swell of her asscheeks, spreading her wide to admire the intoxicating sight—her lubed, fluttering rim, the vibrator buzzing obscenely in her pussy just below, her thighs glistening with sweat and arousal.

I coat my cock with the remaining lube in my palm, mysing slightly at the sensitivity from my earlier release. But the moment the thick head of my length presses against her tight entrance, all discomfort fades.

"F-fuck—Y/N—!" Jihyo chokes out as I push in, her back arching like a bowstring, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the vanity.

I groan, my forehead dropping between her shoulder blades as her ass clenches around me, the heat unbearable, the pressure perfect.

"God, Jihyo—" My voice is ragged, reverent. "You feel unreal."

She lets out a shaky laugh, her muscles fluttering as I bottom out, my hips flush against her ass. "Nnn—f-full—"

I give her a moment to adjust—just a moment—before pulling back and thrusting in again. The rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, each snap of my hips making the vibrator shift inside her pussy, the dual sensations drawing broken whimpers from her lips.

Then—

A knock at the door.

"Jihyo-ssi?" TWICE's manager calls, his voice muffled but clear enough through the soundproofing. "Are you okay in there? I thought I heard—"

Jihyo's breath hitches, her entire body locking up around me.

For a heartbeat, time stops.

Then—

"I-I'm fine, Manager-nim!" she calls back, her voice remarkably steady despite the way her ass spasms around my cock. "Just—ah!—just practicing... vocalizations for TTT tomorrow! We have a singing game, no?"

Holy shit.

My hands tighten on her hips, my thrusts stuttering at the sheer audacity of her.

She grins at me in the mirror, her eyes dark with challenge.

Keep going.

Her lips shape the words silently, her hips rolling back against me in emphasis.

I obey.

"Y-yeah," she continues, her voice only slightly strained as I begin fucking her in earnest, my cock splitting her ass open with every deep stroke. "The—nngh~!—the concept is really fun, so I got... carried away."

The manager chuckles outside, unaware. "Always so dedicated. How time do you need for the girls to be ready tomorrow?"

Jihyo's fingers dig into the vanity, her knuckles white as my pace quickens, the slap of skin on skin growing louder.

"Hah—early," she manages, her voice dripping with faux professionalism. "We should—oh!—start makeup by 8 AM. The lighting—f-fuck—the lighting is best then."

I can't help the whimper that escapes me, my hands sliding up her sweat-slick back to brace her.

"You're insane," I breathe against her skin, my voice barely audible.

She preens, her ass clenching around me. "And you love it."

"God, I do," I groan, my thrusts turning filthier, deeper, my cock pressing against the vibrator through the thin wall separating her holes. "You’re perfect."

Jihyo shudders, her next words to the manager coming out in a rush. "C-call time is 7:30 AM! Sharp! Ah!—I mean—please."

A pause. Then—

"...Right," the manager says slowly. "You sure you’re okay? Your voice sounds... strained."

Jihyo’s jaw tightens, her thighs trembling as I hit just the right spot, my cock grinding against her prostate with every stroke.

"I’m—hah—great," she grits out, her nails scraping the wood. "Just—ngh!—passionate about the shoot!"

Another pause. Then—

"Okay… Well, don’t overdo it," the manager says, footsteps retreating. "See you tomorrow."

The second the footsteps fade, Jihyo collapses forward, her chest heaving.

"Fuck," she pants, her voice wrecked. "That was—ah!—so hot."

I laugh, breathless, my pace never slowing. "You’re a menace."

She grins over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. "And you’re mine."

The moment Jihyo reaches between her thighs and pulls the vibrator free, a lewd schlick fills the dressing room as her juices drip onto the floor. The toy buzzes in her hand, slick with her arousal, before she drops it onto the vanity with a wet clatter.

”F-focus on me now,” she gasps, her voice trembling as my cock continues to pound into her ass, each thrust burying me to the hilt. ”No distractions.”

I groan, my hands tightening on her hips. ”Couldn’t think of anything but you.”

And it’s the truth.

Her ass is like fire around me—tight, velvet heat squeezing my cock with every snap of my hips. The obscene slap of skin on skin echoes in the small space, punctuated by Jihyo’s ragged breaths.

She’s close.

I can feel it—the way her muscles flutter, the way her fingers claw at the vanity’s edge as pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside her.

”Y/N—!” she whimpers, her back arching. ”I’m—ah!—I’m gonna—!”

Then, with a choked cry, she shatters.

Her orgasm hits like a tidal wave—her walls clamping around me as her body jerks, her thighs trembling violently. A rush of liquid spills from her pussy, splattering onto the floor in a filthy, unrestrained squirt, her juices dripping down her legs as she whines through the pleasure.

”G-god, look at you,” I rasp, my thrusts turning slower, deeper, savoring the way she pulses around me. ”So perfect like this.”

Jihyo mewls, her head dropping forward, her hair sticking to her flushed skin. ”Nnn—more—!”

But I’m not done.

Not even close.

”Tell me what you need,” I murmur, my cock throbbing inside her, my own release creeping up my spine.

She whimpers, her nails digging into the wood. ”F-fuck me harder—please—!”

I don’t hesitate.

My grip on her hips turns bruising as I ram into her, my pace turning vicious, my cock pistoning into her ass with unforgiving strokes.

”Like this?” I growl, my blunt nails leaving crescent marks on her skin.

”Y-yes—fuck—!”

Jihyo’s entire body shakes, her fingers scrambling for purchase before she grabs her bag from the table and bites down on the leather strap, muffling her screams as I destroy her.

The sound alone is filthy—her choked moans, the wet slap of flesh, the way her ass gapes around me with every withdrawal.

I could cum now.

Should cum now.

But I don’t.

Not until she tells me to.

”Y/N—!” she sobs, her voice breaking. ”I—I n-need it—please—!”

And that’s when I lose control.

My hips stutter, my cock pulsing inside her as I bury myself to the hilt, my release exploding deep in her ass.

Rope after rope of cum floods her, my vision whiting out as pleasure wrecks me, my body convulsing against hers.

Jihyo gasps, her own climax crashing over her again as she milks me through it, her walls fluttering desperately around my cock.

When it’s over, we both collapse—her onto the vanity, me against her back—our breaths ragged, our bodies drenched in sweat and cum.

For a long moment, silence stretches between us.

Then—

Jihyo laughs, breathless, her voice wrecked.

”...We destroyed the floor.”

The moment my cock slips free from her ass, Jihyo hisses, her body swaying slightly as thick ropes of my cum drip down her thighs. She turns sharply, her dark eyes narrowing—but the flush on her cheeks and the way her lips twitch betray her faux annoyance.

"Look what you did," she groans, limping slightly as she steps toward me. Her voice is still honey-thick with pleasure, despite the scolding tone. "I have a performance in two hours, and now I’m gonna feel you every time I move on stage."

I grin, reaching for her before she collapses onto my lap, her back pressing against my chest. The warmth of her skin bleeds into mine, her body curling into me like she belongs there—because she does.

"Mm, I know," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "But you asked for it."

She pinches my thigh, her head tilting back to glare at me. "I asked for a little fun—not for you to ruin me so hard I limp!"

I chuckle, wrapping my arms around her waist as she grumbles, shifting slightly before deliberately arching her back. Then—God help me—she reaches behind herself, spreading her asscheeks apart to reveal the swollen, gaping rim still glistening with my cum.

"See?" she huffs, wiggling slightly. "It’s your fault."

My breath catches.

Even wrecked, even used, she’s stunning—her body a canvas of my devotion, marked inside and out.

"I love you," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Jihyo freezes.

Then—

Her expression softens, her fingers loosening their grip on her flesh as she turns her face toward mine. "...I know," she whispers, her lips brushing my jaw. "That’s why I let you do stupid shit like this."

I laugh, my hands smoothing up her thighs, kneading the tender muscle there. "Need me to clean you up?"

She hums, settling more firmly against me. "In a minute."

For a long while, we just sit like that—her weight grounding me, my heartbeat steady against her back. The dressing room is a mess—lube bottles tipped over, her discarded shorts crumpled near the door, the scent of sex thick in the air—but none of that matters.

Not when she’s like this.

Soft.

Mine.

Eventually, she sighs, nudging my arm. "Okay, now you can clean me up."

I grin, reaching for the towel on the couch. "Yes, Leader-nim."

She snorts, leaning into my touch as I gently wipe away the evidence of our sins—her thighs, her ass, the ache between them—before pressing another kiss to the nape of her neck.

"You're impossible," she murmurs, but there's no heat in it.

"And you love me for it," I tease.

Jihyo turns, her fingers threading through my hair as she drags me into a real kiss—slow, deep, promising.

"...Yeah," she breathes against my lips. "I do."

Time stretches like honey between us—thick, slow, sweet.

Jihyo’s weight is warm against my chest, her breathing steady as I trace idle patterns over her hip. The dressing room is still a mess—towels strewn about, the faint scent of sex lingering in the air—but none of it matters. Not when she’s curled into me like this, her fingers lazily threading through mine.

"We should get dressed," she murmurs, though she makes no move to pull away.

I hum, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Yeah. You’ve got a show to win."

She groans, tilting her face up to glare at me. "Don’t remind me."

I laugh, but I don’t argue.

Instead, I help her up, my hands lingering on her waist as she steadies herself. Her legs are still shaky, her thighs glistening with the remnants of our earlier activities, but she’s glowing—her skin flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes alive with satisfaction.

"Lucky your clothes survived," I tease, grabbing my discarded t-shirt and jeans.

Jihyo rolls her eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in it. "Lucky you didn’t rip them this time."

I grin, pulling my shirt over my head before turning my attention to her.

She stands there, unashamed, letting me look my fill—her body a masterpiece of soft curves and sharp edges, marked only by the faint red imprints of my fingers on her hips.

I reach for the damp towel first, gently wiping away the last traces of cum from her thighs, her stomach, the ache between her legs. She shivers under my touch but doesn’t pull away, her breath hitching when my thumb brushes just too close to her oversensitive clit.

"Y/N," she warns, but it’s half-hearted.

"Just making sure you’re clean," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her hipbone before straightening.

She scoffs but doesn’t argue.

Next, the clothes.

Her backup panties—black lace this time, always prepared—slide up her legs with ease, the fabric snug against her still-throbbing core. I take my time adjusting them, my fingers tracing the waistband before I reach for her bra.

"Arms up," I instruct, and she obeys, letting me fasten the clasp behind her back.

It’s domestic, almost routine—the way I help her into her stage outfit, smoothing out the fabric, adjusting the straps, making sure everything is perfect.

Because it has to be.

She’s TWICE’s leader first.

Mine second.

But when I step back to admire my handiwork, she looks flawless—her makeup retouched, her hair tousled just enough to look intentional, her clothes hiding every trace of what we’ve done.

Professional.

Untouchable.

Mine.

"You’re staring," she says, her voice softer now. But that teasing up-lift of her betrayed her amusement.

I don’t deny it. "Can’t help it."

Jihyo smiles, stepping closer until her palms rest against my chest. "I have to go."

"I know."

But neither of us moves.

Not until she surges forward, her lips crashing into mine with a fierceness that steals my breath.

This kiss isn’t gentle.

It’s claiming.

Possessive.

Her tongue licks into my mouth, her teeth nipping at my lower lip, her fingers tightening in my shirt like she’s memorizing the feel of me.

And I let her.

I let her take—because she owns me, body and soul.

When she finally pulls away, her breath is ragged, her eyes dark with promises.

"Tonight," she murmurs, her thumb brushing my bottom lip. "Bathroom. Don’t dare fall asleep before I get home."

I grin, catching her wrist to press a kiss to her pulse. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

She smirks, stepping back—TWICE’s leader again, untouchable—before turning toward the door.

"Oh, and Y/N?" she calls over her shoulder, pausing just long enough to throw me a look. "Wear the cuffs."

Then she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

And I’m left standing there, my heart pounding, my skin still burning from her touch.

God, I love this woman of mine

(A/N: This is one of my favourite outfit of Hyo 🦄✨💝)

#twice #nayeon #jeongyeon #momo #sana #jihyo #mina #dahyun #chaeyoung #tzuyu #twice jihyo #jihyo smut #twice smut #twice x male reader #park jihyo #girl group smut

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erospandemos · 2 years ago

Text

I just can't help it

Yandere Chaewon x Reader

Part 1

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

― Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women

What you’re about to read is a confession to you. An apology, if you prefer to call it that, as I’ve professed my love to you plenty of times—although it won’t ever be enough—and you’re at the knowledge of every crime I’ve committed since we met.

My Korean teacher repeatedly reiterated the lack of clarity in my essays and oral exams. I’m not good with words, you see. That’s why I thought that letting you know about the events in my life that shaped me and the feelings that followed me throughout these months would make you understand me better.

I know our conversations weren’t as deep as you probably expected. I’ve tried to explain myself to the best of my abilities and even if it was a mess you seemed to make out that flurry of words and comfort me. Sometimes, I truly thought you understood me more than I did.

It’s true that we always talked in riddles and puzzles but it made more sense that way. Because our—my—love was pure madness and somehow the riddles explained it better than we ever could.

The lack of sleep shouldn’t have affected my mind too much, at least in the part that’s in charge of writing.

If you’re reading this, I hope you understand. Sorry if I’m rambling a lot, and sorry if I will ramble more in the following pages. Right, sorry if I’m apologizing a lot—you told me not to do that. I just can’t help it.

I was tortured since the age of 6 when I started going to elementary school, that’s as far as I can remember. You could also say I was “bullied”, it’s what the adults like to call it, but it’s the same thing. People get defensive, almost offended when I use the other term. “Wow,” was a common reaction, “that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” I didn’t think it was extreme.

When I so naively asked my teacher the difference between the two words, she chuckled and looked at me as if I asked her what the difference between hot and cold was. Surprise was another clear feeling I could read from her expression. She asked me how I knew those words. I simply said I heard them from outside and she told me to forget them.

That evening, when I came home, I took the chair from my mother’s desk and put it next to the bookshelf, I climbed it and looked at the books on the top shelf. They were the books she used the least and between them, sitting all dusty and forgotten, was also the dictionary.

I blew and rubbed the dust away then I looked for the two words. I read the two definitions closely and more than one time but I still didn’t understand. They were the same.

I didn’t ask my teacher anything else. My teacher was clearly against explaining them to me.

But I was sure, I knew those two words extremely well because I felt them on my skin.

I wanted to be an idol. I told everyone in my class because I thought it was a normal dream—we all watched idols on TV in the afternoon—and being an astronaut seemed a lot harder. Apparently, it wasn’t. Because I wanted to perform on a stage, I was “pretentious”, “narcissistic”, an “attention-seeker”, and a “whore”. I didn’t know what they meant and thought they were compliments and they etched those words into my skin.

I later found their definitions in the dictionary and understood what they were saying.

I wasn’t the only girl who wanted to be an idol. Hayoon, a classmate of mine, dreamt of testing for JYP, SM, YG, and all those big companies. She took dance and singing classes, they were both in group and private. She could afford it because her family was very rich. From what I heard in the classroom, she started training when she was just a little girl because her parents saw her dancing in front of the TV during an episode of Inkigayo.

Surprisingly, Hayoon was never shamed. Because she was “humble” and had “her feet on the ground”. She was loved by everyone and was the most favored prospect for the role of an idol, everyone seemed to believe in her dream. She was confident, danced well, and was beautiful. All the girls went to her house at least twice a month to go to her huge pool, splendid garden, and majestic house. I never went, I was never invited.

She was good at everything and topped all subjects. However, I sang better than her. In music classes and festivals, I was always chosen and often took the roles instead of her. When she realized she wasn’t the best, she became embarrassed and frustrated.

She didn’t have any way of making me sing worse and neither could sing better than me, even after all those expensive lessons, so she took to poking fun at me to try and drag me down. Of course her friends joined as well. They were always calling me "ugly", "weird", and "gross" in a way that didn’t seem childish or playful, but demeaning and insulting.

The other kids constantly berated me between classes, glued my books to the desk, slapped me and then ran away. They knew all the spots where there was no CCTV in the school. They even stole my brand-new headphones and glued my shoestrings to my shoes when I didn’t see them. We wore slippers and my shoes were in my locker.

My teachers never helped me. I’ve tried telling them and they didn’t believe me, or rather, they chose not to believe me because that was easier for them.

Only a girl had the courage to help me, it only took one word and two days to have everyone against her. “Stop,” she only said that and then everyone hated her. You never go against the group, you never try to make yourself different, you never try to fight back.

In the end, I understood the difference between torture and bullying: one was for hurting and one was for fun.

During middle school, the bullying stepped up a notch. Some of my classmates went to my same middle school, they had many friends there and the rumors spread like wildfire. Many of the students liked to take their stress out by bullying other students. They were pathetic and talentless, they hated anyone who had potential unless they provided them anything, like Hayoon.

Smoking was illegal. But they didn’t care. They found all the corners of the school where the CCTV didn’t see them and studied where the professors usually walked to avoid their path. It wasn’t always perfect and sometimes they were caught but it sure helped them and the bullies.

One day, I was dragged by my hair behind the basketball court and after getting pushed to the ground, the girls started slapping, laughing, and kicking me. The smoke from their cigarettes and the kicks to my belly and back took the air out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die. They were experienced—they noticed my lack of breath, gave me breaks to catch it, and started kicking me again.

They were caught by a teacher who forgot his bag. They claimed they were only giving me “birthday punches” and didn’t admit anything, nor apologized. They weren’t stupid either. The girls had a very good reputation and a good student persona, essentially they didn’t have any criminal records.

When I was asked what happened, I was ready to tell them all the atrocities that took place in school. But then, I remembered the girls’ eyes. I looked at the professor and I knew, right there and then, that he didn’t believe me, even before I said anything. They wouldn’t have done anything but the word would have been out, that I snitched on the bullies and then I wouldn’t have survived.

So I stayed silent.

The girls only got punished for smoking after they explained they only wanted to try and continued to do it anyway.

Between the end of middle school and the start of high school, the bullies got more creative. They tied me up and broke my legs with a crowbar. The older the girls got, the more of them wanted to be idols, and the first thing they had to do was to get rid of the competition. They succeeded as I stopped dancing altogether since that day.

I continued singing but nobody wants to see an idol in a wheelchair, right?

After I couldn’t walk normally anymore, they started treating me like a rag. They used me to clean the bathroom, by pushing me around on the floor, putting my face against the toilet, and mopping me with dirty water. I was like a toy to them and their friends joined the fun.

Part 2

It was no wonder that many bullied students leave the school. Sometimes, they leave on their own, because they can’t stand the torture anymore, other times, the school removes them. The bullies only bully others because they can and they know they can get away with it: they have influential parents or come from wealthy families, so the school can only quietly get rid of the problem and those are the victims that can’t stay quiet.

The class in my department didn’t have many students but it was enough: 20 students. During the year, 5 students left, and at the end of the year, 2 others were sent to another school in the province. The remaining 13 weren’t enough to be left alone in the classroom so they joined us with a class from another department that also lost many students. In total, we were 31, which was a big number but they didn’t have any other choice.

You were one of those students. I only noticed you after a week because I got used to keeping my eyes low not to anger any of my classmates. You sat beside me. People usually tend to avoid me since they could also become victims of the bullies but you knew it and it was your decision.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked me. When I heard your voice, I had a moment of hesitation. I kept staring at the wooden desk but then I thought that you might have accused me of being rude for ignoring you and that would have been a good enough reason to pick on me, so I raised my eyes.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. Your eyes were cold. I genuinely thought you were a bully too.

“Then, can I seat here?”

“You can if you want…” I told you, unsure. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? You fart a lot?”

I was taken aback. “No! I don’t.”

“I suppose it’s fine then,” you said and took the chair out to take your desk. You started getting ready for the lesson and didn’t seem to have any intention of doing anything to me. Every time someone spoke to me, it was to make a comment, make a joke, or give me an order. Still, I was suspicious of you.

The lesson proceeded as usual. You took your notes very diligently, writing almost everything the teacher said, making graphs and small summaries to keep your memory fresh. If you were to tell me you were the top student in your class, I would have believed it and later I’d find out you really were.

Your behavior wasn’t the one of a bully. And it wasn’t the behavior of a bullied either.

At the end of the last lesson before the lunch break, the teacher gave us surveys for our future career choices. I stared at the paper with a pen in my hand. What should I write? My future, my future was stolen from me. My dream was as meaningful as an ant’s life. After everything they did and said to me, a miserable life of insignificance and sadness sounded perfectly fit for me. I kept wondering and pondering until you turned to me.

“What do you want to do when you grow up, Chaewon?” you asked me while you were lazily spinning your pen between your fingers.

“I- I don’t know, what about you?” I stuttered. I couldn’t bring myself up to pronounce those words. I felt as if I had been banished from even muttering them and thinking about it only brought me horrible memories.

“Web security,” you said. “I go around and check companies’ safety in their servers and sites. I’ve already started an internship so I’m sure it’s what I’m going to do.”

“An internship? This early?”

“Yeah, I figured the more experience I get, the better. I got nothing better to do anyways.”

“Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you hang out with your… friends?”

“I don’t have that many friends, to be honest,” you replied nonchalantly. “I mean, I do go out like once every three months so it isn’t a lot but I still have friends I can talk to. I’ve never been good with people, I guess.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“I was always better on my own. I tried a lot of stuff and I liked web stuff better,” then you turned to me for a second time, looking at me more intensely than before, “but you didn’t answer my question yet. What do you wanna do?”

Being put on the spot like that, I wasn’t sure about what I was allowed to say. More than that, I didn’t know what I really wanted, if the dust of my once desire was still in me if my heart wasn’t dead cold. However, after all these years, a subtle string of fate kept me going and it was still something that I liked doing.

I looked at your eyes. They didn’t scare me.

“I want to be… an idol,” I said in a single breath. After I finished the sentence, a heavy feeling of guilt dawned on me. I felt as if I just committed a crime and I was in danger.

But you didn’t judge me.

“An idol, huh?” You laid back on your chair. “That’s pretty cool. I know it’s very hard if you really want to do it, props to you. It takes some guts to train for that stuff. To dance all day, to have everyone look at you, it’s something.”

“Do- do you think I can do it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t know how well you dance, or how good you sing, or even what you tested for.”

“But is it a possible dream?”

“You can watch idols too, right? They had the same dream as you did. They did it. I think it’s possible, yeah. And I think you can do it, Chaewon.”

When you said that, I felt so relieved. It was comforting. Finally, I found someone that didn’t hate me, that didn’t shame and believed in me.

Just as you stopped talking, the bell rang. It was the time.

“Oh, look at her, ms. Idol,” said Yejun and pushed my head away for fun. He started laughing.

“Hands off, Yejun. And go away before I sock you in the face,” you said.

“I’m so scared, oh my god,” he laughed. “What do you think you’ll do huh? Do you want to protect this filthy rag? How generous,” he said and then slapped me.

“That’s enough, fuckface,” you got up and stared into his eyes. “That’s the last warning. Leave before I do something I might regret.”

He scoffed. “Really, you talk a lot. Don’t forget that you work for my father.”

“I don’t think you get it, Yejun. I don’t just work for your father. He depends on me. One click and his whole 20 servers will blow up. Do you really think that incompetent fool of your father fixed all the problems? He doesn’t know shit about his stuff, he only knows how to count money and scam his workers. There are so many weaknesses I could just hack the whole thing and change your company to my name.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. Now, that I’ve seen who this rag of yours is, tell your friends to keep their hands off her. I don’t want to see your father come back and beg at me and he’ll know it was all your fault. Everyone listens to you apparently, so spread the word. I won’t hesitate.”

Yejun stormed out of the class in anger.

I felt like I was reborn, that I finally found my savior. You were the angel I needed and you came to save me from this hell.

“I don’t like this place, let’s get out of here,” you said and I followed you.

We went to grab lunch but right behind the vending machines you got attacked. He called you a nerd, whatever he did, but I couldn’t stand it. I felt a force in me and I grabbed his neck, I squeezed until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for you trying to get me off, I would have killed him.

Just as that guy run off, you freaked out. I didn’t blame you. Still, you took my arm and pulled me to somewhere more covered to talk to me, scared that someone else might have seen it. I could see the surprise in your eyes, but you didn’t look terrified, you were concerned if anything.

Your hand was still bleeding, the red liquid dripped to the floor. I stared at the droplets, slowly coloring the grey concrete, as if it was the ticking of a clock. At each tick, I was getting more impatient, there was something inside me that wanted to jump out, run after who hurt you, and make him pay for it. But I had to calm down, you were in front of me.

“Chaewon, what the hell!” you whisper-shouted while repeatedly glancing behind your back and into the hallway. “Where did that come from?”

“I-I don’t know what happened,” I stuttered. I was saying the truth—at the time, I truly didn’t know why I reacted in the way I did. I never raised my hands, I never talked back, I never reacted.

“Shit, I’m bleeding a lot,” you cursed. You gritted your teeth and started walking towards the school clinic. I followed you.

You talked to me as we were walking. “You don’t just choke people randomly, you know?”

“I- I really swear! I pro-promise… I have no idea what happened!”

“Listen, Chaewon, I saw you pinning his neck against the wall. You raised a senior with one hand.”

When we were in front of the nurse's office, you pinched your nose and waved your hand to stop me from talking. The cuff of your white shirt was stained with red, it already spread so much in just a short time. You must have been in pain. My blood was boiling.

“You can explain yourself later,” you said and opened the door. “I have to close this wound first.”

I followed you into the room. For some reason, the room was empty, there was no trace of the nurse and it looked like she hasn’t been there for a long time as everything was very tidy and the coat hanger was empty. Often, when people can avoid work, they’ll do it. The nurse must have seen that there was no one needing her in the morning and decided to leave for some coffee.

You sat on one of the beds, keeping your arm stretched out so the blood wouldn’t stain the sheets and with another hand, you searched into the cabinet for something you could help yourself with. You took out bandaids, alcohol, gauze and cotton buds. You really made a mess, trying to pour the alcohol on your arm and spilling half of the content on the floor.

After sloppily cleaning yourself with cotton, you got the bandaids.

“Do you really think bandaids will do?” I asked you. “It’s way too deep.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Yeah, we have to put stitches on you.” I took the chairs from the desk and sat in front of you. In the cabinet beside the bed, there were also needles and thread for that procedure. Luckily there was an anesthetic as well.

I put on gloves. I cleaned your wound again, better than you did before, and applied the anesthetic gel. It took about two minutes to take effect, in the meanwhile I prepared the rest of the equipment I needed: forceps, curved needle, and new thread.

When I was sure you didn’t feel anything, I started stitching your wound.

“How did you learn this?” you asked me so curiously.

“I… I got used to taking care of myself,” I said softly. It was embarrassing. You nodded. I could feel your eyes scan me, looking at all my bruises, the bandaids on my face, and many more wounds underneath my shirt.

You sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope they won’t attack you anymore. Always stay with me, they are scared of people who have a known name.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think it will do anything.”

“Just do as I say,” you repeated. I could see how sure you were from your face. You definitely didn’t see, as my face was facing the floor, but I smiled for the first time after you said that. Your desire of protecting me was honest. I was really happy that you cared for me.

When I came home, I had the time to think through what happened that day. As I was drinking a cup of water, I looked at myself in the reflection of the window, my fingers tracing my wounds and bruises, itching the dried blood on my nails. Where did that strength come from? I could have sworn they had taken every ounce of energy from me, I knew I had no will, no ambition, no desire to even talk back until today. And yet, I hurt him.

I felt good. It didn’t feel good to hurt him per se but to know I defended you. As to him, I should have killed him. But you stopped me. You shouldn’t have done that. He hurt you. That shabby gross fool tried to hurt you, how could he?!

I was so lucky to have caught you before it was late. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened to you if he succeeded—the bruises on your face, the blood on your face—you would have looked just like me. No, I couldn’t stand that. You didn’t deserve to go through the pain that I did, not after you defended me. Oh, if only I could lay my hand on those sinners, the pain I could inflict them, all the experiences that I felt inside my skin, into my very flesh.

I want to hear them scream. To beg for forgiveness. To regret their very existence. I want them to apologize to you, to offer their life…

Crack

I looked down at my hands. What a mess. I completely shattered the cup I was holding—bits of sharp glass everywhere, even some into my skin. The veins of my hand were bulging, I could feel the blood in my body flowing so fast and forcefully. The adrenaline was high in my brain.

I didn’t realize what I did until I heard the sudden noise.

It was true, just as you said. It wasn’t me. But why? This must have happened because I was thinking of you getting hurt… yes, it was your thought, just you. It was because of you. I didn’t want to see you hurt, you were my only hope in this world, just the thought sent a shock through my spine and into my head, and I would go crazy.

You made me like this.

Completely insane.

“Chaewon! What happened?” I heard Yujin calling me and I turned around to see her rushing out the hallway. Yujin was my roommate, we shared the rent because it was cheaper that way. She wasn’t a bad person, not at all. But she couldn’t understand my life, she lived between rich girls and handsome guys.

To be kind, you need to know what misery is. She was just nice.

“Oh, Kirin-chan,” I said.

“How did you break your glass?” she asked worryingly, grabbing a towel to clean my bloody hand of the bits of glass.

“My bad, I was standing up and it just slipped out of my hand.”

“Then how did it get all over your palm?”

“I slipped and fell right onto it, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Yeah,” she commented without much belief, “just like all the time you come home with bruises on your face.”

“It isn’t my fault if they don’t put warnings after cleaning the stairs.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she repeated. “Anyways, don’t forget to clean it up, I’ll go back to studying,” she ended, turning around and leaving the lounge to return to her prettier room.

I continued to stare at my hand.

I couldn’t help but think about you again… my head got foggy… my thoughts haunting…

What if they scarred you?

What if they bullied you?

What if girls broke your heart?

What if you were friends with the wrong people?

I knew I was crossing a line when those questions took form but it was too late and I didn’t even care anymore. It was a promise I made myself, to protect who I loved, and I swore I wouldn’t fail again. I would protect you forever, no matter what.

I feared that you’d run away from me but instead, we got way closer than before. When I walked into school the day after the incident, I was genuinely scared I wouldn’t have seen you—that you had stayed at home, that you changed class or even school. What worried me the most was the fact that you could have been scared of me.

I waited for you anxiously. I kept scratching my nails, rubbing my arms, looking around for you. So many times I got up and walked around the paths outside the school where I thought you’d usually walk, even if I didn’t know well what were your habits, and not finding you, I’d sit back at the wall and wait again.

After several minutes, you arrived at school. At the sight of you, my dizziness and worries faded away. I immediately ran at you and hugged you so tight, you had to know how much I missed you.

You were surprised, of course, you were. “Huh? What has gotten into you Chaewon?” you laughed jokingly.

“I just thought you wouldn’t come to school anymore,” I told you.

“Why would I do that? Today is a school day.”

“It’s okay, that’s perfect. I’m just so glad I can see you again.”

Part 3

The door opened to the locker room and I and the other trainees entered sitting down. They changed their clothes from casual streetwear to old clothes and gym wear. I’ve been training for a bit now, I got to know all the trainees well, there were a lot before but now they only remained half. The one that finished first started stretching. "It's one minute and a half. Let's do this," she sighed.

One of them threw to the other a white sheet with a name written on it and did the same with the others. "Here. Your name tags."

"That's it? Just a minute?" the girl chuckled.

"A minute and a half. Everyone does their part and it's a difficult choreography, don't you forget. It will be enough."

"It's for evaluation. Don't forget every detail counts," another girl added.

We went out of the room and made our way toward the practice room, each one with a name tag on it. The corridor leading to it was cold, probably because they just changed from thick to thin clothes, but it got hotter towards the end where the air got denser. One at a time, they entered bowing at the line of men sitting on the right of the mirror in front of the door.

Everyone had papers and a pen and a serious look plastered on their faces. After a couple of stretches, the girls got into position and the music started. They smiled and danced with their full capability and the judges looked sharp. When the music stopped they held their ending pose and went in a line waiting for their words. The air suddenly felt cold.

"There had been improvements on what we said the first time. But we can also fix others," the first said and the men nodded. They wrote on the paper and scribbled.

"You. When the others did their move you were coordinated and that's fine but you did it wrong. You need to raise your hand higher," he said making the move himself and the girl followed.

"Can you do the move a bit before the ending?" another one asked, gesturing his intention. "Yes, that one. Please get into the position and do it."

They did and when it came to the next section he spoke again, "One more time."

"Once more."

"Five...six.. seven... eight... an-"

"Okay," he said and got up walking to the center of the room. He demonstrated the move more and more times. "Don't tense your muscles too much when you do this alright?"

"But," the oldest got up, "you were all a lot better today, good job. Specially Soojin and Gaeul."

"That's it, goodbye," they said.

"Thank you!" the girls answered together.

BLAM. The oldest almost slips as he got out and the others held him up. The girls let out a muffled laugh, their mouths covered with their hands."See girls, don't tense your muscles too much or they won't work properly," the man chuckled. The judges left fast, embarrassed by their eldest and the group laughed in relief.

"Are we really doing this? They are not saying anything anymore."

The youngest looked at them from the ground, laid down breathing hard, and said, "We're close to debuting."

When everyone was done with their stuff and cleaned themselves they left. Almost all of them ran out to catch the last bus of the day or were just in a hurry. I, on the other hand, had to walk home so I did everything slower. When I got out, in the distance, I heard a group of girls around my age shouting and laughing. When they got closer, I realized they were my classmates, there were about four of them and they were drunk.

They noticed me.

"Look at you. It's late, pretty girls like you shouldn't stay out," one of them said and I frowned.

"Don't tell me. You were practicing?" she said laughing. The other three got in a semi-circle in front of me.

"It's a really difficult life isn't it, miss idol? Everybody wants you and you're here dancing until late," she mocked me, with her fingers under her eyes faking tears, and let out a hearty laugh. The choir followed with a carol of joy.

"It's sad really," she continued, "so popular but so tired."

She pushed me down on the ground and the group stepped back making more space for the two. She forcefully pulled my hair, forcing me to get up. The girl got closer and said, "And you're so pretty. It would be a shame if anything happened to this pretty face."

She slapped me. They laughed. They kicked me. I tried to defend myself, curling into a fetus position and protecting my head. They snickered as they continued wasting the effects of the alcohol on me. When they were finally satisfied, they got up and left me there on the side of the road and went away to the opposite way of where they came from.

I remained on the ground with tears on her face and sobbed trying not to make any noise, I wanted silence. However I heard their voices again, from the distance, and they were screaming.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the same girl as before squealed."We're girls, you think you can-." The group gasped.

"You're five and I'm one and you just beat that girl up. You think I care?" It was a male voice.

The girls ran away but the guy didn't try to chase them and walked to me.

"There's a convenience store nearby, we can get something cold for your face," he said with a soft tone. I recognized the voice and looked at him, I recognized his face too. It was you. My legs trembled a little as I held myself upon your shoulder for support. "It's fine, take your time," you said dusting my back.

At the shop, you bought a bag of frozen peas so I could put it on my face where it still hurts. "I ate those for dinner, they're great. I can use them for everything, look, you're using them too now," you said and I laughed. I calmed down a little and your face got more serious and worried.

"I told you. Starting from tomorrow I'll bring you home," you said.

"But it was only this time," I said.

"And the other four before."

"Kind of."

"Being there by 11:30 should be good."

"But you should sleep."

"I would just be studying, and either way, it's way better to have your company," you insisted, leaning down on the chair. A small smile formed on my face. Ever since that day, the two always walked home late at night even when it was freezing or when it was raining. We got way closer.

You grew up so well. Unfortunately, many girls seemed to notice you and fall for you. I don’t blame them, you were very charming, so attractive for such a young student but I couldn’t let them near you. They were fools, too stupid to realize they were nowhere close to your level, you were levels above and they were just insects. I had to make sure no one bothered you, to avoid you crying because some worthless bitch broke your heart.

I was surprised when you told me you got asked out. But then I felt my chest burn.

There’s only one thing that I can’t stand in this world and that’s people who think they can take what’s mine. I don’t care about gossip, jealousy or envy, I don’t have anyone to compete with, I just want what’s mine. And you are mine.

It was so easy to scare them away. All it took was a quick talk behind the school, a very convincing speech, a cutter to their throats…

They were scared of me. Good. You didn’t suspect anything—they’d still smile at me as if nothing happened, I made sure to tell them. I couldn’t let you know, to worry more than you already were.

The bullying had completely stopped towards me because you were always by my side defending me and eventually they all got the message. If you were just a crush before, now I love you. If I loved you, now I worship you. You’re my religion, my god, my purpose. I’ll kill for you, live for you, and I’ll love you forever. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Whether that’s heaven, hell, or any other world. My very existence is embroidered into your name, I can’t exist without you.

Things were going great, so great. You only had eyes for me. Those two beautiful pupils could only look at me, at my face, at my body, only at me. I loved when you stared at me, I was yours after all, you could watch how much you wanted.

That was until those two eyes became one. You got a big bruise on your left eye, it was swollen, black, and horrible.

You were waiting for me near the big tree behind the school like you always did, and you talked to me like you always did, without worry or pain. “Hey, Chaewon,” you greeted me.

“What happened?!”

“Nothing, I just hurt myself,” you lied. How naive you were, you were too kind, too nice. I didn’t believe you one single bit. I wonder why you did that? Why did you lie to me? Was it to protect whoever did that to you? To protect who hurt you?

“Tell me. Tell me, who hurt you?” I asked you calmly.

“It’s really nothing Chae… I’m serious, I only hurt myself—”

“TELL ME WHO THE HELL HURT YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!” I asked again, the sudden increase in volume startled you and you backed away into the tree. I didn’t know at the time, and you’d tell me later, but my eyes were empty. You got scared, I apologize, I just couldn’t help it.

“Ch-Chaewon?” you stuttered.

When I realized you were terrified, I calmed down. “Huh? Oh, my bad, sorry… I was just really worried, but now, please tell me.” I shook my head and took a couple of steps back.

“Okay, I will tell you… it was Seojun,” you finally confessed. “I bumped into him and spilled his drink on his uniform. I apologized, but since I was alone and his ‘friends’ were with him, they thought they could get their revenge on me.”

“I see… let’s get you some ice for that eye for now,” I told you and we started to walk into the infirmary for the second time. I hated walking into that place, especially with you. I tried my best to hold it inside me, not to scare you again, but I was going to snap anytime soon.

“Chae, are you alright?” you asked me.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear… and it will okay from now on. You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.”

You know, people say that the first time is special, you never forget it. The first time I bathed my hands in the warm liquid that is human blood, my body was cold. I felt hesitation at first, but I knew I was doing it for you, and thinking about you, all that fear was gone. And I killed him.

Yes, it was me that killed Seojun. I don’t regret one bit what I’ve done to him. I made sure he suffered as much as he made you suffer. An eye for an eye, as they say.

That day was special, it was like I confessed to you and instead of a ring, I gave you a life. It was only fair you’d give me your life in return.

The murder of Seojun made headlines in the news and when asked about it, the students never said anything nor praised or acted sad at his death. No one missed him. It’s quite sad that life can be so insignificant that not a single person will care about how gruesome your death was and forget you the next day. To be quite honest, he deserved it. We die in the same way we live.

You were a bit suspicious of me at first. You didn’t really doubt me—you were curious. The news of his death was delivered by our professor during the first period with a sigh before continuing the lesson. The reactions were mixed but mostly towards one extreme: relief.

When a bad person dies, two things will happen: if you’re a good person or a victim, you will be happy; if you’re equally bad then you’ll be scared, because you know he already got what he deserved and nothing prevented you from having the same fate as nothing is stronger than luck.

You were both worried and glad. I’ve always noticed how you tend to care about other people, it’s something that I really love about you, you just have to direct toward the people who deserve it. “Hey, Chae, do you know anything about Seojun’s murder?” you asked me during the break. You were hesitant at first but I was sure you’ve thought about it long enough to decide to spill it.

You must have thought about what I said the other day: You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrow at you. “Why would I have anything to do with his death?”

“W-well… you see… you said that I didn’t have to worry about him anymore and the next day… he dies.” Your shoulders were so tight almost as if you were trying to keep the words inside of you. Your gaze flitted around the room, never settling on one person or object for long.

“It must have been a coincidence,” I told you. “And karma.”

“Right,” you muttered. Then you relaxed your shoulders.

“By the way,” I changed the topic, “there is going to be the last test before the debut at Hybe.”

Your eyes changed completely, they brightened. Every time I talked about my dream, you always seemed too excited for me. You fully believed in my ambition and constantly encouraged me to keep trying. Whenever I practiced, I always thought of you.

I always think of you.

“That’s awesome, Chae. It’s your opportunity, you wanted to become an idol all this time.”

“I will start practicing right away then,” I said. “I want to be with you that day. Can you come with me?”

“What day will it be?”

“Next Saturday, 4:00 pm.”

“Next Saturday… 4:00 pm,” you repeated. “I’ll make sure to be there—I will be there, I will.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and hugged you. You were still a bit against the idea of hugging but slowly you were getting used to it. I trusted that you’ll eventually come to love it.

I had prepared about four songs for the test: two for my singing and two for my dancing, one of them was good for both. I decided to be very broad with my songs because if they asked for more, I’d be prepared. You never know. I didn’t want to go there and have them ask for a random song and fail horribly.

You were waiting for me in front of the building with a little bag of snacks. I mentioned all of them before to you and you remembered. Some of them were for when I’d finish the whole thing and some as a snack to calm my nerves.

Honestly, I felt like you were my boyfriend already. If anyone saw us together, they’d say the same thing. Every little thing you did was so full of attention, I knew you cared for me, and I loved you so much.

Anyways, the time came. I bid you goodbye and entered.

The test went terribly wrong.

You waited two hours for me, only for me to blow it all up. When I came out, I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want you to see me at all.

“So Chae, how was it?” you asked but I didn’t reply. It was hard to come up with any word at all. I couldn’t even look at you in the eyes.

“Chae?”

“Chaewon?”

You finally got enough at the third time and you grabbed my shoulder to shake and direct my gaze at you. “Chaewon, answer me please!” you said with an upset tone.

“Do you… do you think I’m a failure?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked back.

“Hey, am I a failure? Tell me. Were the guys right? I am not meant to be an idol after all, should I give up after all? Tell me, please!” I hiccuped and cried. I was truly heartbroken. It was the test per se but the fact that I disappointed you, that I wasted all your determination and belief you had in me.

“Chaewon, no…” you whispered and went for a hug. It was awkward, you didn’t know how to hug. You tried to put a hand on my shoulder and one on my hip, but it didn’t work. Then you tried to put both of them on my shoulder but you looked like you wanted to headbut me. On the third try, you succeeded and properly hugged me very tightly.

I buried my head into your chest, it was where I could really feel safe.

“Chaewon, what happened in there? How did it go?”

“I FAILED! I BLEW IT ALL UP! IT’S ALL GONE!” I yelled and gripped you harder.

“How is that possible? You’re perfect, I mean, you sing so beautifully and you’re beautiful,” you said. “You’ve been practicing… why? How?”

“I’m sorry it’s that I was so worried. I got distracted. I continued to ask myself if I’d fail and so on… I knew the lyrics but I got jittery and…”

“No, Chaewon! I told you to believe in yourself. You can do it. You can do it.”

“But—”

“You have talent, Chae,” you repeated, “and I’ve seen it since day one. You will not fail. You just have to try again.”

I was embarrassed to see if I could try again but you weren’t and you stormed inside the building, dragging me by arm to ask the staff if I could try again. You explained everything and even pleaded with them until they gave in.

This time, you were waiting for me outside the door. I knew I wouldn’t fail again.

Don’t think about anything else. Focus.

I sang the first song. Just like I practiced. Then I danced. It was perfect.

I passed. I was so happy and I just had to tell you. I ran outside but you weren’t there.

I searched everywhere until I understood you weren’t in the building and had to search for you outside. I found you in an alley, bloody and bruised.

I immediately called the ambulance and they rushed you to the hospital. Your condition was so bad they had to x-ray your whole body and do a small surgery.

When I found you, you could barely talk or even breathe. You were laying in a pool of blood, that came from the numerous cuts all over your body—they weren’t clean but all rough and jacked, meaning they came from brute force and not blades. Your clothes were also messed up and ripped. Together, I could count on 19 injuries at least. I couldn’t understand at all. Why would someone do that to you? And how did it happen?

Together with you was a bag with two drinks and a couple of sandwiches. I suppose you went outside to a convenience store to buy something, maybe for me, and then… you were attacked. This may have been premeditated, it’s impossible a group of people randomly hurt you that bad.

I couldn’t stop crying, you know?

To see you in those conditions, I could only think of the worse.

What if you’d never wake up again?

What if you’d be miserable for the rest of your life?

What if you died?

It was my fault. I’m sorry, it was totally my fault. It was because I took way too long in the test, chatting with the staff, seeing the other girls so happily, while you were being jumped… I could have protected you, we could have gone home together and this would have never happened.

The doctor called me. “Kim Chaewon?”

“Yes?” I raised my eyes. I saw him and wiped my tears before standing up and walking to him.

“Is he okay…?” I asked.

“He’s not in danger is what I can tell you. Some of his bones are broken and he has received a concussion, he may be asleep for a while, you see,” he said.

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, you can,” the doctor agreed, “this way…”

He guided me toward another floor of the hospital. You have been transferred from the emergency room to the patient’s rooms. You were in the section where more care was needed—the hallway was quieter, everyone walked slower, and everything was more gentle.

I entered your room slowly, holding myself up with a hand on the door frame and then I saw you. Your eyes were closed. Your whole body was covered in bandages and you were hooked to all sorts of machines with cables and cords everywhere. It was almost like seeing a puppet tied up in strings and they were keeping you alive.

I was scared to come close to you. I feared that any of my movements could have damaged you even more. You were so fragile at that moment.

I gently lowered myself to the chair next to your bed and held your hand. I cried. I cried again, so much. I couldn’t help but keep thinking it was my fault. If only I was quicker…

Some of your items were put in the drawer. I noticed your phone together with your wallet and backpack. The screen was cracked and some of the blood crusted into the cracks. I don’t know why I felt curious but I unlocked the screen—you trusted me enough to let me know your password months ago to check some messages while you were busy cooking—and it opened KakaoTalk. You were texting me and the phone memorized it.

Chae be careful the bullies might be after you

Don’t go in the shortcut at the

Oh, dear. You were on the brink of death and all you could think was to warn me, to protect me. You didn’t even think of calling for help. I understood everything. It was those bullies again… they didn’t forget, did they? It’s because their life turned to hell after they didn’t have anyone to bully anymore and they got revenge but attacking you.

I was angry. I was furious. I was so pissed that I unconsciously cracked your phone even more. It was that feeling again, all over—the fire in my chest.

I will kill them. Each one of the. I will make them suffer. I will tear them to shreds. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them.

I will make them pay for everything they have done for you.

They were so stupid. It was so easy to trick them: I attacked their leader when he was coming home late and forced him to send a message to everyone who was involved in your attack—he confessed right away when I showed him my knife.

The guys came on point the next day. It was all so easy. They always hung out at the abandoned warehouse where they could make all the mess they wanted and dragged their victims to torture them properly and in private. Now they were dragging themselves to their death.

I dressed in black that day. You never liked seeing me in black. People used to tell me I tried to stand out too much so they forced me to use torn, old, ugly clothes, but when they stopped tormenting me, you brought me to buy more clothes for me.

But that day I wasn’t dressing as the victim. I was in the guise of the Grim Reaper.

I prepared my knives, axes, clamps, nails, and staplers and waited for them in the building.

Humans are so easy to kill. They are so frail and mortal—I had to be extremely careful not to let them die immediately to cause them all the pain they deserved. I’ll spare you the details. You don’t have to know of the gruesome parts of their murder. I’ll just tell you everything they did to you and in their years of bullying, I did to them. From crowbars to knives, to fire and stabbing.

When the last one stopped screaming, I felt at peace. The silence was absolute. I couldn’t even hear the wind, the cars, or the noises of the city. It was completely quiet.

I finally avenged you.

Part 4

Disposing of the bodies was quite simple but extremely tiring. I had to chop their bodies to bits, bury them and hide all the evidence. I cleaned with bleach all my weapons, the floor, and the walls of the warehouse. I had to soil the floor since it was dirty before and I couldn’t leave a clean patch in there, it would have been a dead giveaway.

Of course, I had to get rid of all their phones. I broke them into little pieces before grinding them up to a bag of dust and flushing them down the toilet.

I got most of my weapons from around the city. I stole the knives from the school kitchen and returned them to them. I did the crime on a Friday night and finished in the evening of Saturday so they wouldn’t have noticed the disappearance of their tools. I bought the rest of the tools from a hardware store so I could have just put it in someone else’s garage.

I couldn’t burn my clothes or rags because that would have caught the attention of my neighbors or anyone nearby so I colored it with all sorts of paints so the blood would have been unrecognizable. If anyone analyzed them, it would look like they were of an artist. And then I disposed of them.

Burying the bodies was the most laborious part and I could only do it during the night. It took me both Saturday and sunday to get rid of all the evidence.

The next days were all marked by nightmares. I didn’t dream of what I did. What haunted me was you leaving me. I was afraid that my crime could have separated us.

Chaewon, you’re a monster.

I can’t be friends with a murderer.

I can’t love a killer.

I hate you.

I wish you died.

I was distressed and jittery during the day and couldn’t sleep at night. Many times I would get distracted in those thoughts, imagining all the things you could say to me, and not realize people calling me. I would often zone out and not hear anything else.

“Chaewon? Are you okay?” my classmates would tell me. I would snap out of my daze and realize most of them were looking at me then I’d realize I actually chipped a corner of the table off with my grip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” I could only say. They would continue with the day forgetting about it or just tell their friends excitedly about a classmate with a freakish strength.

It was especially hard when I was training with the other trainees but I told myself you wouldn’t be proud of me if I wasn’t doing my best and forced myself to dance.

On Monday, their disappearance was announced but nobody could find anything. Not a single trace. The secret was safe with me.

They also announced your attack but they didn’t connect the two events together, assuming you were also a victim. The attacks in this Korea were common anyways. Bullying was so widespread you could say it was part of our culture.

After a week. you were still asleep. The doctor concluded that they must have stomped your head too for you to be concussed that badly. They damaged the nerves.

Unfortunately, I knew only after I killed them. If I knew I would have done the same to them so they could feel the pain you felt but I guess cutting their limbs counts as nerve damage as well.

I was getting extremely impatient waiting for your awakening. The doctor couldn’t help me but it wasn’t their fault. I’ve only realized now how much I relied on you and those days without you were as sad as Halloween without candies.

When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if the Sun rose already or if it was still sunrise, it was timid, and the light cast a somber hue in the room. It was gray and pale. The soundscape was eerily quiet, the usual chirping birds seemed to have disappeared, as if even nature was mourning alongside me.

Walking through the corridors of the school, I felt like a solitary figure amidst a sea of faces. Conversations echoed around me, yet they seemed distant. The classrooms, usually alive with energy, felt suffocatingly silent.

I couldn’t help but notice how happy the other students went on with their days, completely ignoring what happened to you. Worst of all, some students even mocked you, saying you were a loser and you deserved it. My bloodthirst was beyond the roof. I had to hold myself back a lot not to commit other killings, reminding myself that I could have raised a case of a serial killer if I wasn’t careful enough.

I thought I had been sneaky enough not to raise any suspicion but I didn’t know the only person to find out would have been you.

I was in an alley near the hospital when I met one of those mean girls. They were badmouthing you and I had to make sure they wouldn’t do it again. I didn’t kill them, you don’t have to worry about that. I merely sent a message, a little punishment. I got one nail for each insult they said toward you. Poor them, they won’t have nails for months—I hope it hurts.

They ran away but when I turned around, I saw you. You were looking at me so horrified and disgusted.

“I had my suspicions, Chae…” you said. “The coincidence was too perfect. I woke up and saw the news, I knew it was you. And now, I’m sure.”

“You’re mistaken, dear,” I tried to say foolishly.

“Chae, I saw everything.” Your face morphed into an extreme melancholy, of disappointment and sadness. My face instead contorted into a horrified frown. You… my best and only friend, my love. You discovered my worse secret—I knew what the consequences were and I knew what the risks were.

“I mean, what are you even doing here? Weren’t you still sleeping?”

“I woke up this morning—I got discharged—and the doctor let me take a walk… and then I saw you.”

“Do you know what I did all of this, darling?” I asked, my nerves were so tense and my blood was pumping like crazy. I was getting more and more scared. There was a thread inside me that was being pulled and pulled…

“W-what is it?” you asked with hesitation.

“It’s because… I… I love you.”

I saw the shock on your face but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I did it. I snapped. You found out and there was no turning back. You didn’t have a choice either.

“W-what? What are you saying?”

“Darling, don’t you get it? I love you so so so so so much. I love you so much—to the point I killed for you. Yes, I did kill them. I murdered them. I slaughtered them. I made them suffer, love, the way they made you suffer… Please! Please understand—I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Chae, you’re scaring me. Stop…”

“Oh, don’t be scared, my love. I would never harm you or kill you… I would only cherish you—in fact, I did all of this to protect you from those bastards! I love you with all of my heart.”

That fire inside of me took over again and this time I was already glued to you, my knee under your thigh, pinning you to the wall, a hand on your cheek and one near your waist. You couldn’t move at all, I wouldn’t let you. I was finally this close to you… your skin was so smooth and soft—just like you, my precious baby.

Maybe I was smiling a bit too much. You’d describe to me later that I looked psychotic, yes, I was crazy.

You didn’t know how to react. I admit, you were so cute—so vulnerable and fragile, just at my mercy. Yet, you dared to take and push my hand away from your face.

“Chae, I’m sorry,” you said and it almost broke my heart, “but I just… I-I- I don’t know…” you said.

“What aren’t you sure about? Is it my love? Is it not clear enough?” I asked. “I’ll do anything for you, just ask me.”

“Please stay away from me,” you replied, “for a while.”

“What are you saying, darling?”

“Chae… you’re my best friend and I understand why you did all of that. I do. But I need to think about it. Don’t worry, I won’t say this to anyone, no one at all, but I need to stay alone for a bit,” you pleaded, “I just recovered too.”

“Okay, fine,” I agreed. You were right. It was a bit too much for you, especially after you just woke up from that concrete hospital bed. Also, I knew I could trust you. You never betrayed me so that did not scare me.

You slowly backed away and left me, alone in the alley.

I don’t know why but I started laughing hysterically.

I thought I messed up a lot. That isn’t the way your lover should look at you, right? Terrified and pleading on the verge of tears. You should have looked at me lovingly. I was so scared you’d leave me and I couldn’t let you do that. I needed you too much.

But then you left me waiting for almost a month. I respected your choice and didn’t contact you at all but it’s been too long. I figured that knowing I killed tormented you so I didn’t touch anyone else but rather I kept it to simply threatening them verbally and that seemed to work.

You have to understand I couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at your pictures every night wasn’t enough. Listening to your voice from the vocal messages wasn’t enough. Smelling the shirts I stole from you wasn’t enough, and the smell was fading away. My imagination wasn’t enough, especially when I knew I could have you and I was just waiting for the right moment.

Then the right moment came. I sent you a message just to let you know, you couldn’t say no. I went right to your house, which I came over to many times already, and even your mother knew me. She let me inside with a smile, she was so kind. I knew where you got that virtue from.

I heard you running frantically around your room. You must have been dressing up, so I waited until you were done, knocked, and opened the door. Your room smelled just like I remembered it, it was so good, it was just you.

“It’s been a while, Chae,” you said, clearly nervous. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing terrible, honey,” I answered honestly and you gulped. “You know, I’ve been good to you. I waited and did nothing else. I did not kill or hurt anyone. I let you have your space, then why did you disappear for an entire month?”

“I kept thinking and reflecting on what happened…”

“For a month?” I was furious. “Did you try to make me forget you? Did you try to forget me?”

“It’s that… It has been a tough month,” you said. “My best friend murdered 6 people, or more… How could I go back to what we were before? You killed… humans.”

“So? They didn’t deserve to live anyways. I did it for you.”

“No, Chae—”

“They beat you up so badly you couldn’t even walk!” I snapped. “They badmouthed you, they laughed at you and… why are you defending them?!”

“Yes, but you took their lives.”

“They were going to take your life too! Don’t you get it?”

“Chae, please—”

“No! Shut up! I can’t take this anymore! I can’t forgive them. They’re always making fun of you, beating you up, torturing you—just because you’re my friend! But you keep shoving it away and get hurt for me… I- I…”

I hugged you. I had to hold onto something and you were the only one that could have helped me stand up. All those years… I was so pent up, I was so tired of it. I know you told me many times to let it be but I can’t. Sorry, I just can’t help it. I can’t let anyone walk away after they hurt you, even if it’s something as little as pinching you, because you mean too much to me.

“Darling, I love you!” I sobbed and pleaded onto your chest, bathed by my tears, “I missed you so much. If I don’t see you even for a day, it starts to hurt, you know? I’ll do anything to stay with you, anything! Just tell me! I want to see you every day, I can’t let you leave like this…”

“If it’s like this,” you started, “we can make a deal.”

“A-a deal? Really?”

“Yes, a deal. You can see me how much you want but absolutely no killing. No physical assault and no insults to anyone.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, you just have to restrain yourself.”

“Very well. Then, I promise, I will never kill again, I swear. Does that mean I can see you every day?” I asked. My tears finally stopped pouring out, the hiccup was still there, but I could focus and talk to you properly now. I took a deep breath and spoke, “Then you have to be my boyfriend from now on.”

“What did you just say?” you asked with confusion.

“You can’t say no. You are my boyfriend now. You know already, I told you so many times. I love you with all of myself.”

I knew you liked me a little already. I wasn’t sure if it was as strong as my love for you was, although I doubt it can, I knew you were interested in me. No one would stick with me for that long and no one would defend me from all those bullies. I knew you loved me, of course you did, you always took care of me since our first day and I couldn’t help but fall for you too.

I tried my best to change my appearance to suit your ideal type more. I dressed better, I dieted, I worked out, and I practiced so much that I wouldn’t disappoint you.

“Chae, are you sure? I’m just a regular guy and you’re an idol…”

“Don’t lie to yourself, honey. I wouldn’t give myself to just anyone. You never laughed about me, you believed in me when nobody else did, and you infected me with your kindness and humanity. You’re the best man I can ask for.”

“Thank you…”

“You’ll be my boyfriend and I’ll be your girlfriend, okay? Do you accept?”

“Uhm…”

“Do you accept?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Ma’am?” I laughed. “Don’t tell me you have some weird fetish going on… It’s okay. Just tell me, I won’t mind, hehe.”

Part 5

You have been very strict with me. The first thing you did was to establish a set of rules and all the punishment that would have resulted in breaking them. You’ve been very clear in defining them and made sure I understood you were very serious about it and would absolutely punish me if I dared to not respect them. They were something along the line of:

NO KILLING. The punishment is an instant break-up.

NO BODY HARM to anyone. The punishment is no contact for two weeks.

NO KIDNAPPING/STALKING/THREATENING other people. The punishment is no skin touching for a week.

RESPECT YOU. We’re together in this relationship and I have to listen to you.

TRUST YOU. You'll leave me if I don’t trust you when you tell me you aren’t cheating.

I accepted them and we started dating. Our relationship was as good as it was before but this time I got to be as clingy as I wanted, hugging you as much as I wanted, holding your hand wherever we went, and most of all you gave me a lot of head pats. You always gave me head pats to congratulate me when I did well in school or had a good performance.

It was difficult to respect those rules and you showed me how convinced you were of them when I broke the hand of a guy who shoved you against the lockers. You really ghosted me for two weeks without saying anything. When they ended I couldn’t help but jump on you and I promised to be more careful. Since then, I didn’t break any other rules and you showed me your love in so many ways, I lost count of them.

We learned a lot about each other and helped each other all the time. You helped me be more confident with my skills and get angry (but you told me I was cute when I got mad). You were always a bit discouraged with your work, giving up easily, and I made sure you knew how great you were. Just like me, school has really made you more insecure about yourself, but when we were together, we achieved a lot more.

Recently I discovered a hidden diary you used to keep under your bed, between the mattress and the frame. The last thing you wrote was months ago, way before the incident, and it was you rambling about me. ABOUT ME! And it was so adorable. “I have the biggest crush on my friend!” You wrote on the last page.

I stared at the words in a daze, it was like the words were screaming in my face. I was used to only obsessing over you and knowing you were going through the same thing warmed my heart.

You know, I’ve never believed in good endings, but with you, I think I finally found one where we are the protagonists. Our story is not like a fairy tale, it’s far from perfect, I am not a princess, nor could ever be one. However, you made me feel like one and I’m more than sure you’re my prince.

Sorry if I am always so obsessive and so imperfect, I just can’t help it.

THE END

Written, 7 June - 27 June 2023

#yandere #yanderekpop #yanderekpopgg #kpop #lesserafim #chaewon #chaewon yandere #angst

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