#how to build intuition

[anghraine]

Other tangentially related gaming thing: my bff J agreed to yet another run of Mass Effect to help me decompress/distract myself/maintain the even keel that's kind of required by the whole situation, but also difficult as an intensely anxious (if usually composed!) person.

For context: our first Shepard, who romanced Liara, was about as squeaky-clean Paragon as possible to be while still murdering the fuck out of Kai Leng. I had a blast with that one!

Then, we constructed a whole tragic arc for our second Shep, a somewhat older woman with maximal emotional scars (survivor of Mindoir + butcher of Torfan) and a lot more capacity for ruthlessness (we did every Renegade choice we could square with our consciences—no space racism but lots of space murder).

We decided she'd start to find love again with Kaidan, only for him, like everyone else in her life, to die (at Virmire in this case). Then she would experience a more mature and profound love with Thane that would be very gentle and fully reciprocated, yet bittersweet given that they both know he's dying soon. We had the idea that this initially harsh, ruthless Shepard coming to love Thane and diverge from her previous path of bloody vengeance would be really endearing, especially when the dying Thane wants the prayer read for her rather than himself, and then the rapport between Shep and Kolyat would also have this extra pathos, and killing Kai Leng would be even more satisfying.

(It totally was: our Shep was a Vanguard so there was a lot of punching involved, and then J indignantly went "this is for Thane, you fucker" as we stabbed KL.)

Anyway, the storyline did mostly work out, apart from any degree of nuance being rewarded by the game locking us out of cool dialogue options at particularly critical moments. Still, she was super enjoyable and I liked how we got her arc to weave into Thane's despite a bit of underwriting at times, and the idea of Shepard as this ultimately tragic figure who just keeps on living as her loved ones die over and over and over (we chose Destroy to underscore that fate!).

This time, we thought it'd be fun to go for a Shepard who isn't quiiiiiite as squeaky-clean as the first one, but more of a Paragon type than our tragic Shepard. Basically noble, but with more of an edge. She's a survivor of both Mindoir and Akuze, so she's seen some shit, but she's still quite young (we wanted her to be fresh-faced, pretty, yet also visibly scarred and managed all three :D). We particularly wanted a more youthful, impetuous Shepard who is less straitlaced and less world-weary than the previous ones for the Garrus romance, which after all these years, J has never done! And he's played both male and female Shepards to see how most of the romances play out, but not Garrus's specifically.

We thought it'd be especially fun for this Shepard to be a full Adept and for her to be basically a good influence on Garrus's unfortunate cowboy cop ways (we just shout out "RED TAPE!!!!" as a household joke at this point). But we didn't want her to be an elder mentor figure to him or an incredibly noble icon he'd revere so much as for them to be Reaper-fighting bros who help each other grow as people -> FWBs -> whatever happens in ME3.

So we've started our new run with our very attractive scarred Shepard (J: "I think it works for her, she's probably into scars"; me: "I bet Garrus is"; J: "Oh, for sure!") and it's a really nice distraction. Though now I'm thinking about the ME/P&P AU that's been percolating through my brain for upwards of seven months >_>

[altruistic-meme]

i hate that i can't just stay in the position i like and am very good at and expect to ever start making more money. i don't have interest in climbing the ladder, i like my current position. i am good at my current position. literally everyone i work with will tell you that i'm really fucking good at my job. why can i not just get more money to keep being good at my current position?

[a-bee-wizard]

now that the dust has settled: can we all admit that totk just. wasn't really anything. it was just botw again. and i played botw in 2017.

[vounoura]

the maister system and the new 'find vocations out in the world' system is...ok, but I prefer the old colour system

[beardedhandstoadshark]

I’m really curious about this and maybe others might be too:

For comparison: a normal block would have a size 1m^3 or 1x1x1m using the metric system

Please, any help would be cool to see some data on this!

[mrtheinsatiable]

Hell yeah automatic renewal on my library book

[hospice-worker]

help

[roughentumble]

"hmmmm is twitter twitter because of the layout or the emergent behaviors of the users?? 🤔 checkmate atheists" hey and why do you think user behavior is what it is on that site. what shapes user behavior and site interaction. quickly now quickly

[renapuppy]

I have been saying this for a while, this has contributed to the appification of the entire internet; including when you aren't even on mobile. it is just utter hubris. having worked in tech support allowed me to see this firsthand.

its how you get people who don't know what the fundamental concept of a website is; all they know is that you tell google what you want and it gives it to you. and its not their fault. its the overarching philosophy of trying to obfuscate how a computer works.

not to enforce gender roles but a computer should NOT fucking have apps okay. if I wanted an app I'd go on my phone my laptop is for Programs. I mean this.

[sturionic]

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[theluckygirlblog]

How to Overcome Indecisiveness and Make Confident Decisions

Indecisiveness can be paralyzing. Whether it’s choosing a career path, deciding on a business move, or even picking a restaurant for dinner, overthinking can drain your energy and prevent you from moving forward. High achievers know that decisiveness is a key skill that fuels success. Here’s how you can cultivate the ability to make clear, confident choices without second-guessing yourself. 1.…

[financia012]

Are You a Good Judge of Character?

Are you a good judge of character? Our ability to understand and assess people’s true nature plays a crucial role in how we navigate relationships, work, and everyday interactions. But how do you know if you are a good judge of character? Let’s explore the signs, challenges, and ways to improve this invaluable skill. Signs You’re a Good Judge of Character 1. Empathy and Listening Skills If…

[lugarn]

to me baking is quantum physics and cooking is organic biology

[reimenaashelyee]

The Creator's Guide to Comics Devices is OPEN!!! comicsdevices.com

An online library of visual-narrative devices that are used in the medium of comics and other sequential art.

Happy Halloween! I'm really excited to be finally launching* what is maybe one of my most ambitious, largest work yet. This online library is the next phase of a research project that began in May 2020, when I first mused on how comics as a field doesn't have a resource that catalogues devices used in the medium. Like, theatre has devices, so does literature, and film! So why shouldn't comics? I always had an interest in comics studies and analysis. I love reading, making and thinking comics. However most of my knowledge was intuitive - I learned comics from osmosis and experience. This is true for many of my peers. Speaking about comics as a creator is hard, because we don't have a robust system of language. When we had to speak, many of us tend to reach for the language developed for film by film practitioners. If there is language specific to comics, it's either scattered in multiple blogs or hidden away in academic journals. The Comics Devices library is meant to aggregate everything and everybody into a single hub! After exploring some multiple resources, alongside some original, independent research, here is the first edition! * The Comics Devices project is still a work-in-progress! It's not final, nor will it ever be. This is why I am seeking contributors to help build this library. Translations, comics examples, etc. There is a lot of work to do! If you are interested, reply to this post or submit an expression of interest on this page.  Have fun everyone!! (Now time for me to melt x_x)

[usedpidemo]

Taste (Newjeans/Njz Minji & Danielle)

9k words

—————

No matter how you look at it, one thing is for certain: you’re absolutely screwed.

Aside from having two uninvited guests at your front door this late in the evening, those very same people are, in the company’s words, marked persona non grata. They’re everywhere. They’re a byword. They’re beyond saving. It’s a public relations nightmare for anyone caught in their crossfire. At least that’s what the agency wants you to believe. 

All the less reason to trust their intuition when they’re this damn pretty. It’s a convincing guise. Furthermore, you have common ground to stand on: that this is merely a job, that you’re only there for the pay, and nothing else.

So now:

“How’d you end up getting my address?” you ask the girls, knowing full well you never interact with your coworkers, let alone the idols in the building.

“We—” Danielle rolls her eyes in the direction of her partner, Minji, prolonging the word. Smiling, playful, searching for a compelling reason in real time—and failing. “We have our ways.”

Suspicious. This whole situation raises many red flags. But one look at both of them. Drop dead gorgeous. You wouldn’t be surprised if they came here straight after one of their photoshoots, and their makeup gives off a strong indication. If not for your job, you’d let them in, no questions asked. But you’re a bit numb to it—just a little—if not for the fact that you see them at work everyday.

“Can we please come in?” Minji implores you, sounding innocent in contrast to the flirty Danielle. You hardly need any further convincing. 

“Sure.” 

Without a second thought, you let them walk through the door, and it’s only after they’re inside that you realize: you’re making a huge mistake.

But in the heat of the moment, you reason to yourself that it's a rare occasion; it’s not often you hang out with fellow coworkers after hours, and you’re really stretching that coworker label. Finding excuses to let them in your place.

Minji and Danielle take their seats on the living room couch without even asking, but you allow them. Meanwhile, you’re rushing to the fridge, trying to make do with your leftovers of takeout and canned food you have lying around. 

“Don’t worry about us. We’re not hungry,” Minji shouts from the living room, but her plea goes through deaf ears. 

“Yeah, we don’t really eat much,” Danielle adds, but it hardly changes anything.

Even from the kitchen, you can hear them mumble in the background, mostly incomprehensible to your ears, even while you’re preoccupied with heating the food in the microwave. Taking a few glances from a distance every now and then, still pretty from afar. Thankfully, they’re busy with each other to catch you snooping. You never expected this. These same idols that appear untouchable and have their own private rooms in the building, that never really take a second glance at everyone else—casually hanging out at your place.

To keep your mind from spinning further away from the consequences, you let the food out as soon the microwave’s timer hits zero. You’re hoping this is a quick and casual visit, but based on what you know so far, with the company’s situation in mind, you sense that they’re here for a specific purpose—and it’s certainly not to make friends.

As you offer the reheated food before them, Minji smiles at you, raising her hand. “We already ate,” she says, smiling respectfully, “But thank you.”

You set it down on the table regardless, knowing they won’t take a bite anyway. It’s the thought that counts.

Taking the couch opposite them, a brief silence fills the room, the tension gradually brewing as neither party is willing to break the silence. Until—

“So,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs, feeling a lump in your throat, unable to follow through, but you muster up the resolve to speak: “What are you here for?”

The two girls pause, ruminate on their response, on their intent, trying to find a way to sound convincing. You see the pair exchanging brief glances at each other, with Danielle looking more anxious and deferring to Minji to be their mouthpiece. As much as you want to threaten them, you can’t—not when they look like that. A perfect blend of gorgeous and innocent.

So you’ll let them be. Give them all the time in the world if needed. You’re not their corporate overlord, after all. If anything, you’re in the same position as them somewhat, a slave to the system on the outside looking in.

Eventually, Minji opens her mouth. Swallows her throat, pulls on the collar of her shirt. Talking slowly, ensuring every word is emphasized, she says, “I know this might be hard for you to do, since it’s your job and all, but—”

She suddenly second guesses herself, her gaze heading in the direction of the table, unable to face you. Danielle’s been looking at her, and you can tell the exact moment her confidence drops through her body language. 

“But?” you say, tone low, in an effort to keep them at ease. Probably not the best sounding or worded, but it’s already done. You already know what she means—hell, you had a slight clue that they wouldn’t be here without cause—but you just need them to say it outright.

“We need sensitive information from HYBE’s documents to get us further in the public’s good graces,” Minji forces herself to speak, trembling, “You know about our situation right? You know how much that company hates us—how they want us to take it, and then they’ll shelf us.”

“Yeah. I mean—you’re no different than us, right?” Danielle tries to empathize, finally turning her eyes on you, twinkling, pretty, “You probably hate this company, too.” 

And to be fair, Danielle’s right: you hate HYBE with a burning passion, even when you’re in charge of cleaning all their dirty work. But the NewJeans predicament has turned that hatred up to eleven. There are even days where your overtime extends till the dawn trying to save this company’s ass from themselves and from public scrutiny. It’s a thankless job. You’re fed up, and the only thing keeping you from leaving is how the market everywhere else sucks.

So you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Help them at the expense of your job, career and future, or refuse, and possibly get caught in the fire when they continue their tirade against the company. Worst case scenario, they win, and HYBE goes under, and you’re left with nothing. Essentially, you’re delaying the inevitable. 

Either way, you’re screwed.

And then, you bring up an overlooked point: 

“But this is my livelihood,” you tell them, blunt, direct to the point. As much as you’re willing to take that risk, you are also aware of the consequences, and everything else at stake. At the end of the day, you’re still an average joe living off the bare minimum to survive, but Minji and Danielle are millionaires with brand deals, hit songs, and coming from wealthy backgrounds. Most idols in the industry are like that. Their reputation may take a hit, but not their wallets—something you simply can’t endure. “You will be fine regardless, but what’s in it for me? I get nothing from helping you guys.”

Your response leaves them dead silent. You can sense the realization falling on their faces, and the air of defeat in their body language. Unable to look you in the eyes, the two women sit on the couch, every breath deep. Even from across the table, you can feel the weight put on their shoulders. The despair.

If this is their way to draw sympathy, it’s working to an extent. You do feel bad for them. But you’re looking out for yourself, first and foremost.

“We know how that feels, and we’re sorry for asking a lot from you,” Danielle finally speaks, breaking their silence, before pouring herself a glass of water and taking a sip. “But you have to understand, we also need work too. They won’t let us. So we need not only the public’s favor, but also incriminating evidence of workplace malice to force their hand.”

It’s not a convincing enough argument.

“Think of it,” adds Danielle, leaning forward, “You’re not only gonna help us, but also anyone in the future who ends up in this situation too. We can fight against the system.”

And you’re certainly not the hero type.

“Dani, I’m sorry, but I can’t help.” you say, rising from the couch and picking up the food. As you walk back to the kitchen, you add, “My job is far too important to let go that easily. If there’s any other way, I can offer my help, but not at the risk of my livelihood.”

“I know, I know, but we really really need it,” Danielle continues to implore you, persistent and unwilling to accept any other answer than a ‘yes.’ Minji sits beside her, quiet, deep in thought. You’d assume that being the eldest, she’d put a stop to her member’s antics, but no. She’s convinced that there’s no finality in your answer, that you can change your mind with enough begging and pleading. “Please. You help us this one time, we never ask for anything from you ever again.”

She goes on to list a few of the incentives they’ll give, ranging from signed albums and merchandise to free concert tickets which you have no interest in. Add in a positive word to her mentor, but you know damn well that even without this mess, she’s not to be trusted with. You’re struggling, yes, but not desperate.

“Maybe for a few million, I could do it,” you joke, knowing it’s too much, even for them. It’s the greed they mention and condemn in the Bible. Obviously, they don’t react positively to your counter offer.

“Please. Reduce that to a hundred thousand, and maybe we’ll consider it,” Dani remarks, huge emphasis on maybe, and it elicits a light chuckle out of you.

“Like I said, it’s gonna take a lot for me to risk my job. I also understand you’re also trying to work freely, and I hope you can win your case, but I can’t freely give up my only source of income like that.”

“Right, right.”

You can tell they don’t want to be told the same thing over and over. But here they are, repeatedly begging as if they didn’t hear a single thing you said. What else did they expect?

Danielle then looks to her partner, hoping to get something out of her after exerting this much effort to no avail. And then:

“Hey Minji,” she calls to her, before curling her hand in front of her lips, whispering into her ear. By the way her brows rise, a fresh idea has struck her head like lightning. Minji looks at her, not buying it, but as she rattles on, you see her turn more and more convinced at the notion.

Perhaps it’s the fatigue beginning to settle in, but you seemingly catch a quirk and a subtle grin on both women’s lips. 

What they’re up to—it’s no good.

“We’re asking: please help us,” Minji appeals to you one more time. “A few hundred thousand you want, right? We’ll each give you a couple so it adds up to a million. All five of us. So you can help your family out and you have bail in case you ever get caught and arrested.”

“Thoughtful offer, but I’ve made up my mind a long time ago,” you tell her, having convinced yourself the deal has fallen through. “It’s getting late,” you say, turning your gaze to the wall clock, approaching midnight. “It’s been nice having you, but I’ll see you guys at work tomorrow and then we can talk about it.”

As you’re about to show them the door, Danielle calls to you, drawing back your attention. “Wait.”

You face them to see Minji taking off her denim jacket, leaving only her cropped shirt and pants, giving you a clearer view at her toned belly. Danielle’s not far off too, wearing a similar fit as Minji, all the way down to the blue jeans, the key difference being her tight, body fitting shirt, emphasizing her chest. 

Yeah, they clearly went here fresh off a photoshoot, makeup and all.

“What are you doing?” you ask as Minji tosses her jacket onto the couch.

“We seriously need your help, and we’ll do whatever it takes to get you to help us,” is Danielle’s reply, sultry with a hint of venom laced somewhere. The two women step forward, positioning themselves into a makeshift trap. Of course you’re frozen in place, unable to move as they corner you, seize you with their hands, their gaze traveling up and down your figure. “Don’t you think we look pretty?”

The twosome stroke everywhere—at your hair, at your skin, at your clothes, poking into your most carnal desires. It’s one thing to see beautiful girls like them at your workplace on a daily basis, but up close and like this—their beauty hits harder. Their hands reach down to your pants, squeezing on your balls, forcing a deep grunt from your lips.

“Jesus, fuck—” you moan, tilting your head up, the sensation overwhelming. “Not like this. I can’t.”

Yanking down your pajamas, Minji and Danielle take turns stroking your cock through your boxers. Back and forth, with their hand around wrapping the tent forming in your bulge, both women shooting a passionate gaze through your soul. 

Your fight is completely nonexistent.

“Good enough to convince you now?” Danielle says, her breath hot against your skin. 

You regain enough lucidity to glare back through the pressure, rasping, “I still need the money though.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, the two girls release their grip on you, promptly taking a step back, leaving you gasping for air.

“Only after you give us what we want,” Minji demands, crossing her arms, shooting you a confident smirk.

“And what makes you think I’ll do that?” you reply, unconvinced that they will fulfill their end of this bargain.

Minji eyes you, as if expecting that very response, and wiggles her hips like she’s on stage, slowly pulling off her jeans, teasing the slightest hint of underwear before stopping.

“Nice try, but I need your word,” you remark, tilting your head, playfully pouting your lips. “I need to know that you’re not pulling on my leg. That you’ll give everything you promise.”

“Such as?” Danielle asks.

“Your pussy. And the money. I better check my account and see a million there tomorrow.”

“Don’t we look trustworthy enough?” she remarks, feeling slighted at your lack of faith. 

“Maybe. For all I know, you just want to run up your pockets with the company’s money,” you tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “And who knows what else that devil is telling you. You seriously don’t need her to be successful. Anyone ever told you that?”

“I’d tell you that you’re out here asking for money like a broke bitch, but hey—since we need your help, I’ll let that slide,” Danielle replies, her grin shifting to more of a scowl. “But because you asked, here.” 

She whips out her phone and taps rapidly on the screen before showing you. A transfer of $200,000 from her bank account to yours.

“Trustworthy enough?”

You merely nod in agreement. You’re getting somewhere.

Grinning, she approaches you, her eyes wide open, demanding once more, “Now give us the data.”

Not flinching, you quickly retaliate. “You’re still missing one thing.”

“Only after you give us the data.”

“Only after you give me the honor of fucking you both.”

“Please stop.” Minji steps between you two, her glare pointed at Danielle, taking the role of mediator. “We’ll send the rest tomorrow, so don’t worry. And we know you’ll give us the data after.”

“At least someone gets it,” you remark, smug. This is all new to you. 

“Don’t act like we wanted this.” Now it’s Minji’s turn to act condescending, redirecting her gaze in your direction. “You know very well this wasn’t our first plan—or second–or third.”

“I know.” Your hands are already pushing down on your pajamas, leaving only your boxers and the evident bulge behind it, suffocating, desperate to be freed. 

—————

“Show us your bedroom,” is their command, straight and to the point. A request you’ll never decline, not in any universe. By the time you lead the two girls there, all their clothes are on the floor, making a trail of their tracks. They don’t give you the opportunity to watch them undress, and to be fair, it’s completely all on you—so focused on the future, that you never look at what’s right ahead.

Nevertheless, even under a dimly lit room, you mark their svelte figures, their fine, tangible curves. Divinely made, as if they were created by the gods themselves.

“God,” you comment, eyes wide, in awe of their bodies, your mouth watering, starstruck. Any compliment, no matter how small, serves to stroke their ego. It’s all over their lips—their taunting, playful smirks. Minji’s sweet bearing can’t hide that. The need for praise and attention never grows repetitive. Like they were born for it.

“If you’re gonna stare there and just watch,” teases Danielle, as both girls walk past you and toward the bed, continuing to goad you. “We wouldn’t mind that.”

Your brain hard resets itself, and you eventually catch on. Turning around, Minji and Danielle are standing on opposite ends of your bed, examining, testing to see if it can shoulder the weight of you three together. At least that’s what you think.

“So—not even gonna finish the job, huh?” you say, referring to your boxers and the way they handled your balls a while back. 

“Wasn’t part of the agreement,” is her reply, direct, laughing. “Could have said: ‘I want your pussy, your mouth, and the money,’ but it seems like you need the money more than anything.”

And God damn it, they got you. Again.

“But since I’m in a giving mood today,” Danielle continues, sauntering toward you, slow, seductive, flattering, until her breath is hot against your skin once more. You feel it again: the measure of her hand on your balls, the grip of her fingers piercing through the thin fabric, tight and suffocating. Turning her gaze to Minji, gesturing with her eyes to follow.

The sensation renders you helpless, but that’s only Danielle. Add in Minji’s fingers, the tug of those damned briefs down your legs, leaving you at your barest—and sure enough, you’re drowning. So hot to the touch, so overwhelming to the senses, like you’re breathing in nothing but nitrogen. Tilting your head up, moaning like that’s the only thing you can do—and that’s exactly it: you can only voice out your pleasure through this madness.

“Feels good, right? Never had girls do this to you before?” Danielle never lets up, continues her assault on your senses and your life like it’s a form of personal revenge. You’re too preoccupied with their touch to catch their satisfied expressions, only in brief, flashing blurs. You don’t even acknowledge how they’ve added a few kisses here and there on your collarbones and shoulders, all while taking turns to fondle your balls and stroke your cock. 

As if you weren’t already in the gutter, it gets worse. 

Dropping to their knees, their lips kiss the tip of your cock, and Christ. It demands your entire resolve not to come undone right then and there. You’re biting on your lower lip, sighing deeply and holding your breath, doing everything in your power to not buckle underneath all the pressure building and building. All it takes is a little spark to create fire. There’s no stopping it; you can only hope to contain it for as long as humanly possible. 

And that’s just the initial contact.

A brief glance at what’s beneath and behold: it’s imagery straight out of your deepest fantasies. There’s no other way to spin it; it’s pornographic. Minji and Danielle down on their knees, taking opposite ends before your cock, their fingers wrapped around your base and on your balls, with your hands gripped on their scalp, on their long, dark locks. Soft hums and little kiss sounds coming from below fill the room and satisfy your ears. The control is nonexistent; in reality, it’s them who are having their way with you, setting pace, constantly putting you on the backfoot with little resistance on your end.

And to be quite honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

They know what makes you tick. What gets you to fold. What pushes you to give out. 

Bobbing their heads back and forth, kissing up your length, slowly but surely covering your cock in their spit, determined to make you crumble. Demanding your attention, demanding your all. They have you exactly where they want.

“Yes, God, fuck yes—fuck—so fucking good—” you sputter, hanging your jaw wide, your vision dulling, utterly in awe at how natural they both are at giving head. Like this is far from their first go-around, like this is routine. It helps that their lips are shaped in a manner meant to fit cock. 

Like they’re meant for you.

Their breath lingers on your skin, sends shivers down your spine. A hint of satisfaction at hearing you moan and give them their due praise. 

Slurping deliciously on your shaft, Danielle pushes herself ahead of Minji, her nose brushing against your groin, taking you deep into her throat. She gags—chokes—on your cock; a little too much too soon. Her partner slowly draws her back, but Danielle slaps her hand away, refusing to quit like it’s a vice, like she can’t live without it.

Sucking, licking, tasting every inch of your cock, leaving you short of breath. 

It was never a surprise that Danielle was the needy one. Even before tonight, she looked natural for the part.

Eventually, she does concede and pulls out regretfully, equally as overwhelmed as you are. Spit fills the sides of her lips, dashed with your precum. Minji looks at her with disgust; this wasn’t part of the plan.

The mischievous girl she is, Danielle taunts her with a wordless gesture before giving way, implying that she’s better at giving head, inciting a little competition.

Shaking her head as she inches toward your cock, Minji takes some time to apologize: “Sorry about Dani. She can be—a little too much. Even for us.”

To say Danielle is a little too much would be underselling it—she’s the devil incarnate.

But back to the matter at hand. Minji is much more gentle at taking you in. Still that’s a hilariously low bar, because she, too, can’t help but shove your cock deep in her throat after a little taste. 

And your perception of Minji gets flipped on its head. She grabs your thighs like she were to fall if she lets go. You can see the effort; her suction is stronger, her cheeks are hollowing out, and the determination on her brows. She’s taken Danielle’s challenge personally. At this point, the original goal has been completely lost in the shuffle.

Minji meets your eyes while your cock is comfortably lodged deep down her throat. Humming a saccharine melody, mouthing incomprehensible jargon, seeking your approval. 

By the glint in her eyes—she won’t take no for an answer.

All you can do is endure, hold on a few minutes longer, perhaps more—mind, body, and spirit willing. You’re dangerously close to falling apart. Her mouth is an inescapable prison; torturing your senses with unbelievable amounts of ecstasy. You can only wonder how you’re still standing after this much pleasure in the form of sensory punishment. 

She’s daring you to say the magic words. You can’t take it any longer.

So you yield.

“Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum—” Before the pleasure becomes overwhelming to form coherent speech.

In response, Minji graciously pulls out, but not without inflicting a little more torment. She releases her grip on your cock with a satisfying, neuron activating pop from her now stained lips. Still, you have no time to catch your breath as they’re back onto you as quickly as they retreat, their fingers coiling around your base, stroking you hard and fast over the edge without restraint.

“Cum for us,” you hear their demand, their shaky breaths making your cock throb beyond control. “Cum all over our faces.”

And who wouldn’t? 

You’re thrusting wildly at air, having quietly accepted the inevitable. There’s relief in knowing how fucked you are regardless. It makes letting go all the easier. 

Body trembling, legs wobbling, stomach churning. Cumming.

Spilling into the void, your eyes completely slammed shut, unable to bear the pleasure any longer. 

Minji and Danielle are waiting at the other side. Taking every pulse, streak, rope of your cum with their greedy mouths wide open, tongues sticking out. You’re doing exactly what they want, using their faces as a canvas, making them an outlet for your lust. The gushing sensation burns every fiber in your loins, breaking you down until you’re milked completely dry.

The aftershocks linger long after.

When you regain a semblance of clarity, you’re greeted by a pair of mischievous and triumphant smiles. Minji and Danielle are presenting your own handiwork: their faces completely covered in your cum, dripping down their lips and chin. Tongues swiping their wet lips clean, happily drinking you all up. 

The image is permanently seared into your memory. You can never look at them the same way after this.

And they stay there, grinning from ear to ear. On the floor, letting you soak it all in. How you’ve ruined their faces and reputation. How you’ll eventually ruin yours. Behind the friendly facade, they’re no better than anyone else—willing to throw everything on the line for even a slight competitive advantage. 

You can’t get over the fact that you’ve committed what’s essentially sacrilege. Never mind their current predicament; this can be its own scandal.

Before you can fully make sense of everything, the pair break their silence. Their eyes linger on yours. One after the other:

“You taste so good.”

It doesn’t sound playful or teasing in any way. It’s a sincere compliment, and that’s what makes your heart flutter.

And then your body gives out. Instinctively falls back onto the edge of the mattress. Laying down comes second nature. It had been a long day, and Minji and Danielle more than left you completely spent. Any other circumstance, it would be easy to call it a night.

But there’s still work left to do, and the girls will make you hear it.

“Hey, you’re not done, are you?” Minji’s already on her feet, hitting your ribs, keeping you from falling unconscious. “You still owe us your end of our deal.”

Looking at her through lidded eyes, your response comes out slurred, as though you came home hammered after five drinks. Only one word is clear: “—Laptop.”

Minji hears you, tells Danielle to search for your laptop before returning her attention. “Where?”

“Living room. At my desk.”

Minji straddles herself on your lap as she gives Danielle the command. You’re preoccupied by the lovely sight hovering atop you to notice the loud yelp that rips throughout the apartment, followed by a choir of apologies from a whiny, low voice. You can only hope that your neighbors don’t knock; you can only deal with two uninvited visitors at this time.

“Sorry. I—I tripped over a loose wire and almost landed on the TV. Oops.” Danielle returns to the bedroom with your laptop in hand, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Lean back,” is Minji’s command, and you effortlessly comply. Even with her ass resting on your lap, she’s as light as a feather, letting you wiggle back onto the headrest with little difficulty. 

Danielle joins you two in bed, resting the laptop on your bare chest. Then Minji clambers over to the side opposite her member, lifting the screen. “We did our part. Now do yours.”

You give Minji a tired, thousand-yard stare. As if telling her, ‘Really?’ after what transpired moments ago. She reciprocates the sentiment. No words necessary.

In a few ways, she reminds you of your boss. Only she’s way younger, hotter, and kinder sounding. 

With a deep sigh, you fire up the laptop as the members lean over to make sure you follow through. A few clicks here, a password there, entered one letter at a time, and you’re inside the classified data storage like they wanted. Thousands upon thousands of sensitive folders, files, and documents—they have no idea where to start.

“All of them. Send all of those,” Danielle demands, in a rush.

Pausing, you give Dani a frustrated glare, also telling her ‘Really?’ with your raised eyebrows.

“We don’t need all of that, Dani.” Minji’s eyes laser in on a specific file reading Competition. Pointing at it, she says, “Send this one. That one looks interesting.”

Even though you’re responsible for data security, you are as clueless to everything as the idols are. You don’t even have access to the executive floor where all the corporate shit is involved, nor do you have entry to where the idols stay. Your job is to keep data stored and hidden from the public, no questions asked. But you click anyway, following along without hesitation, ignoring the possible consequences.

It’s far too late to renege.

“Can’t believe I’m willingly doing this shit for the devil,” you comment, knowing where this information will eventually end up. It’s akin to selling your soul. You’re starting to regret everything.

Minji has a suggestion. “How about you send it to our emails instead?”

“Still gonna end up with her. I’ll just drop it anonymously on the internet. I don’t care anymore.”

So you log in to your private job forum account on a site where frustrated workers can vent frustrations about their companies. There had been a fair share of ex-employees airing out their grievances against the agency, most of which are buried by obvious bots and snitches. 

There’s no burying what’s gonna come out now.

Typing up a simple paragraph, attaching the entire folder full of documents, carrying all sorts of information about who knows what. 

With a deep breath, you hit Post, and may God have mercy on your soul.

You close the laptop, but Pandora’s box has been opened.

Now it’s all on them.

The reward is worth the trouble, at least at the moment. Minji and Danielle each plant a peck on your respective cheek for doing the deed. Smiling after the kiss, gently caressing your hair, mumbling: “Thank you. Really.”

You merely shrug, as if you’ve set off a devastating bomb with world-shattering consequences.

Danielle removes the laptop off your chest, setting it aside by your bedside shelf. “So, what now? Which one of us do you wanna take first?”

And perhaps you need it—need the adrenaline of Minji and Danielle getting fucked, ruined to bits. Something to clear your mind from what’s to come.

In the midst of the anxious calm, Danielle finds new ways to break tension. Her stomach rumbles loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. Minji laughs—heartily.

It’s enough to get a light chuckle out of you too. Their charm comes off as natural.

“Scratch that. Minji, you go on ahead,” she quips, before rolling out of bed and limping straight to the kitchen for a bite.

Never mind that she didn’t ask you about what’s available, or that you’ve even allowed her to take from the fridge, or that the food you offered them has gone cold.

“You heard her,” Minji says, pressing her hands on your chest, rolling herself back, your cock inches away from her ass. “Sit back and relax. Don’t have to do anything.”

Slowly but surely, Minji adjusts, demanding your attention stay on her face. Her glow, her beauty is undeniable. It’s in the little things. The light brush of her hair. The tiny scratches she’s leaving on your skin. The small, gentle air kisses. The anticipation gradually builds as you feel your cock hardening once more. Perfectly devised, all done purposefully to keep you on edge.

“Gonna let you in me now,” she murmurs, descending onto your shaft, the pressure of her fingers deepening on your skin, keeping her eyes on you. Your breath hitches, like time has come to a complete standstill, the suspense at its apex, and then—

“Oh fuck!”

The words may be delivered light and airy, but they rip through your ears like thunder. Burying herself to the hilt, Minji crumbles almost instantly, body fidgeting uncontrollably. Her jaw slacks wide, eyes slam shut, her mind overridden with the sensation of your cock deep in her pussy. 

On your end, you let out a deep groan, the only feeling registering in your mind being: Wet. Minji’s so goddamn wet.

“So big—so fucking big—” Minji whines, choked up, her fingers pressing deep into your skin like she’s trying to tear you to shreds. Unable to move, it’s evident that she’s still new to this, new to the feeling of your cock.

It’s not intentional, but her face is melding into something pornographic. Such a sweet and pure looking girl, fragile and delicate to the touch, shattering to pieces.

Her pussy is anything but pure.

“Christ—Minji—so fucking—” you mutter, gasping for breath as your hands claim rest on her waist. The last word in your sentence finds itself stuck on the edge of your tongue, but your little resolve lets it fight its way through: “Tight.”

That one word seems to light a fire in Minji’s soul, because she begins to move. Dragging her hips upward, the suffocating pull of your cock unwilling to let go of her cunt, the musical squelch. Your shaft reappears for a moment, covered in her slick, coated in her nectar, before it falls back into its rightful place inside her. She crashes onto you again, and the sensation hits as hard as the first time.

Minji drops her head low. Lets out a grunt. A single thrust and she’s already fighting for dear life. Her features are morphing erratically, all muddled and incapable of remaining still. Her abs tense, that already lean figure shrinking more than physically possible, but she’s not done. Gritting her teeth, your cock sends her head in a tailspin, driving her crazy.

“Have I ever told you how fucking big your cock is?” she asks, like it didn’t register in your brain the first time. Hearing it from her saccharine voice never grows tiresome. 

“Nope. Not at all,” you joke, which she spurns with a shake of her head.

“God, it feels so fucking right,” she remarks, and you share the sentiment. Like you’re meant for each other.

Perfectly positioned and angled inside Minji’s cunt, you’re more than happy to sit there and stay in her warmth all night long. Let her figure her way out. Instead, you guide her through, giving her torrid, deep strokes. Hands roam the curves of her svelte figure, admiring her at her most vulnerable. Even when she looks fucked like this, she’s still flawless.

Though her breaths are shaky, Minji gathers her bearings and paces along. Slow and steady, her hips rising and falling onto you like waves, sending ripples through your body below. Everything is falling into place. It’s euphoric. She’s got her head held high; you’re holding her like she’s your grandest prize.

Composed, calm, certain—Minji follows the beat of your drum. It’s finally sinking in. How truly sweet it feels.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Spearing, thrusting into her, your bodies crashing into each other, filling your ears with a chorus of dry, airy moans, backed with the wet sounds of skin against skin. Your breaths hitching, bouncing around the bedroom, spilling out into the rest of the apartment. At this moment, it’s only you and Minji, making the most of what little time you have left.

Minji bounces on you. Tits, ass, her body naturally falling into your grasp. As quickly as she recaptures it, her composure is falling apart. You have a hand on her cheek, squeezing yourself a handful of flesh before giving it a playful slap. She yelps, but she pushes on. Demands you keep going. That you use every inch of her.

“Harder—harder—harder—”

An easy command that’s easier to follow. 

You oblige, being given the green light to Minji’s shapely ass. Back and forth, giving each cheek a vicious barrage of spanks till her skin is marked red with your handprints. Her voice goes hoarse with every whine, every mewl, every moan. Asking for more punishment, because she knows she can take it all. Body clenching, her pussy fucked beyond repair.

Gasping, trembling, her pace has spiralled out of control, riding you in fast intervals, giving you no room to breathe.

“Cum for me,” she rasps, hips gyrating quickly, her nails leaving deeper scratches on your flesh, drawing a dash of blood. “Cum in me, please.”

“You first,” is your counter, knowing you have each other’s bodies read like a book. You’re reaching your breaking point a second time. “Cum all over this cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” A simple chant, but the most satisfying one to hear. You’ve never heard her this excited, this eager, that her body naturally follows. “God—I’m gonna fucking cum so hard—”

Pushing deep into her, exerting more effort than she’d led you to believe. Your bodies working together to reach that climax. Her wispy moans turning to shouts, cries of overwhelming pleasure, refusing to dash the brakes, willing to run herself into the ground to chase that conceivable high. 

It rips through her body. Breaks her clean in half.

Her head rolled back, locked in place. Your hands gripped on her waist once more, keeping her steady. Still delivering punishing strokes as Minji cums over your cock. Burning through your nerves, dragging you down with her.

You repay the favor, joining her in blissful climax moments later. Unloading into her cunt as it pulses, milks you dry again, resting your head on the headrest. Squeezing into her creamy flesh, letting Minji fall into your arms. Like it was destiny, your lips catch hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

You feel her. The aftershocks of her orgasm. Her body giving out this time, her hands clutching into an embrace, her breath against your skin. Still embedded inside her, even as the fire dies down, taking it slow, unwilling to leave the warmth of her core. Leaking onto your sheets, leaving a permanent stain on your bed.

“Minji,” you gently shake, keeping her awake. She laughs into your chest. 

Staring at you with glossy, half-lidded eyes, her words reduced to a silent whisper. A fitting tone. “Still have Dani to go,” she reminds, more of a warning than a cause for celebration. Thankfully, she hasn’t reemerged from the kitchen.

“Right.”

“Need any advice on how to handle her?” she asks, like you’re about to tame a wild beast. You can only imagine how wild Danielle is.

Your hand traces circles on her back, fondles vast waves of raven silk. “Every little tip counts.”

 “Just—” Minji lifts her head softly, breathing into your neck. “Fuck her like an animal. Make her scream. That’ll shut her up.”

Considering the damage Minji did to you—and she’s the gentler one—Danielle might be on a whole other level.

And speak of the devil: Danielle’s voice fills the room, boisterous and whimsy. In the time when you and Minji were fucking each other’s brains out, she regained the pep in her step—and her attitude.

“You two were fucking like animals,” she remarks, flopping onto the bed, smiling from ear to ear. As if she had overheard everything, and to be fair—you might have caused a ruckus worthy of a noise complaint. “Got me thinking, ‘Damn.’ I should have stayed put. Got me wet imagining what you were doing.”

Not a single mention of what she’s eaten from your fridge or the thought of compensation.

“My turn, girl.” Danielle gestures to her exhausted companion, her patience instantly flipping like a light switch. She gives her only one warning before forcefully pushing her to the side, taking her place on your lap. “What did Minji do, hm? Rode you? Used you like a bar of soap?

She takes a look at the stain between her legs, the sticky puddle around your groin. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

“Can’t blame her. Always loves to flaunt that ass of hers.” 

There’s a tinge of jealousy in Danielle’s tone, uncaring that she can still hear her clearly.

“But since she let you sit back and do nothing, I’m gonna make you work for it now.”

Danielle spins around, presenting her petite ass and soaked, throbbing pussy for you in clear view. She’s on her fours, thrusting, pushing forward, pretending to fuck herself on your cock, causing the bed to shake.

Giving you a preview of how exactly to ruin her.

If you weren’t still completely spent from Minji, your feral impulses would demand that you rush in and lay your hands on her tight figure.

But no—even the simple act of leaning forward proves to be an immense struggle. You’re still reeling, slowly recovering from all the aftershocks. Two vicious orgasms haven’t been kind to your body in any form whatsoever.

Looking over her shoulder, hair falling directly right in her face, Danielle taunts you. “Can’t handle it, babe? Such a damn shame. I was looking forward to having that big cock of yours fill my pussy up.”

Like a corpse rising from the grave, your hand suddenly grabs her ass, catching her completely unprepared. Her mouth drops wide, playful and animated, as if it were part of the act. It’s what Danielle’s best at: pushing your buttons, setting you off, bringing out your worst.

“Did I say something to wake you up, tough guy?” Danielle continues to run her tongue, daring you to stop holding back. A little more and it’s not gonna end well for her. “Is it the fact that you can’t handle this pussy?”

Right then and there, a vicious slap echoes through the room, followed by an equally loud cry. Her cheek turning sore and bright red in an instant.

You and Danielle stare directly into each other’s eyes, caught up in the heat of the moment. Time comes to a complete standstill.

And then, she starts laughing. Uncontrollably.

Shaking her head in disbelief, brimming with delight. “I knew you had it in you.” 

Her erratic change in attitude leaves you baffled. Trying to make sense of her right now won’t do you any good, nor is it worth exerting any level of effort. All you can do is watch and expect the unexpected.

“Slow learner, huh?” Danielle says, as if that’s gonna help you understand even a little. “If I hadn’t made it any more obvious, I want you to fuck me. Use me. Run me to the ground. Fuck me till I can’t walk.”

Of course you knew what she meant all along. Minji warned you beforehand. It’s just that you’re a simpler guy. She wants you to wreck her—that’s easier to follow than this roundabout nonsense.

That being said, she’s wiggling her ass before you, your hand spreading her core a tad wider. Her smaller hole and cunt glisten, gleam in the dark full of sheen. “I did you the service of lubing myself while you were busy.”

All the more to keep you from struggling. She may be a loud mouth, but she can be sensible and considerate.

Danielle’s gaze lingers, anticipating your response. There’s a little pressure to follow through and deliver on her wants. Your cock is starting to harden, ready for another round. 

But you’re not there just yet.

Instead, you plant your other hand over her scalp, face her away, disgusted by her bratty face while you work. Your lower body has regained enough strength for you to climb behind her, inching close to her ear.

And with four simple words, each and every one delivered with dire importance, Danielle’s world is absolutely rocked.

“My bedroom, my rules.”

Instinctively, Danielle moans. She trembles, straightening her back as you line up your hand to give her a second smack on her sore cheek, filling the room with her cry. Minji joins you from behind, positioned over your ear to guide you through the pleasure and the process, when really, she’s only there to watch you humble her fellow member.

And you don’t give it to Danielle right away; she’s undeserving of the immediate reward. 

Diving head first into her slick core, your tongue straightens her cunt, laps up her nectar, making her quiver.

“Ah—oh my fuck—”

Sloppy and straightforward, you slip your tongue into the crevice of her heat, kissing her pretty pussy, leaving Danielle a moaning mess. She’s gushing—mewling—about the discomfort, the pain, the pleasure you’re imposing on her, leaving her wanting more.

Minji calls it while you’re buried in her member’s cunt, flexing and pulsing against your tongue. Draining every little drop you can from her throbbing core. Danielle can only brace for comfort, if there’s even any, gripped to the sheets, in dire need for cock, fiending like it were a vice.

You continue to bring the pressure. Your hands coiling around her thighs, spreading them ever so wide, addicted to the taste of slick, filling your dry mouth like it were water in the desert. She’s panting, desperately seeking oxygen, losing her mind, her vision. She can only pray that the teasing will end.

Unfortunately for her, you’re not a merciful god.

Without care or concern, you stick your tongue deep into her cunt, mark her pussy like she’s yours, suck up all the cum you can take without remorse or consequence. It fucks up Danielle like crazy. A second or two longer and she would have shattered into a million pieces. If she crashes and burns before you give her what she wants, then so be it.

Once you’ve had your share of her slick, you pull back—but not without giving yourself one more sampling. The music Danielle makes from her lips is something else. A mix of moans and obscenities in every tone imaginable.

You have to remind yourself that your tongue isn’t the end goal; your load is. Yet you can’t help but slide a finger to grab another helping. This is the greed they condemn in the Bible.

Offering your soiled digit to Minji, she politely declines with a shake of her head, whispering that she has it on the regular. Some people are just insanely blessed.

But back to Danielle, she’s trembling all over, on the verge of collapsing onto the sheets. She’s under the impression that she can’t give in without your permission, and good on her for recognizing your authority over her.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” you tell her, stroking your cock inches away from her glistening cunt, rubbing your tip against her inner thigh, not giving her a second to relax. “You’re gonna regret saying all that shit to me when we’re done.”

Danielle’s already apologizing, frantically shaking her head, expecting the worst. 

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” she begs, like that’s gonna change the past, or the outcome. It’s too late for that.

You push your hips forward, and God—you swear your ears are gonna burst from Danielle’s endless groan. 

Thanks to how soaked her core is, even before your tongue, you effortlessly glide into her cunt and impale her to the womb. Breathless, asphyxiating, overwhelming. You feel every bit of her pulsing against your cock. The grip proves to be too much. Hands around her airtight waist, your abs tensing as you take her from behind in a picture perfect moment.

And you stay there, let the sensation wash over, give it time to fully register. To keep your head sane, your fingers trail to her taut, sensitive nipples, giving them a flick and a pinch, playing a cruel game with her patience.

“Oh my God—” Danielle whines, lowering her head, just bearing the full brunt of your weight pressing over her. To her credit, she’s holding up well. “Give it to me—fuck that big fucking cock into me already—”

The more she begs, the less you’re willing to comply. Languid, painstakingly slow, agonizing. That’s how you draw your cock back, even with the smooth glide of her warmth, like you’re removing a stake from her heart, leaving her to die before you thrust right back in.

You can’t help but crack a smile, taking grip of her hair, turning it into a makeshift leash to angle her head. 

“You’re so fucking tight, Dani,” you mumble against her ear, your hot breath driving her wild. 

Before she can say a word, you deny her the respite, fucking her to pieces, reducing the helpless woman to a heap of tears, moans, and curses.

Pounding into her cunt, letting your bodies do all the talking. There’s hardly a need to speak. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping skin, Danielle’s tireless, lewd sounds, and your groans. The bed quaking along with your pace adds to the immersion. You’re willing to end the world just to break Dani in half.

Again and again, continuing to fan the flames, your breaths matching your thrusts. Losing yourself in the madness of Danielle’s tight, suffocating cunt. She’s encouraging you to keep going. Minji joins too. Echoing, reinforcing all these twisted ideas in your head. Don’t fucking stop. As if you had any intention to quit. When you have a pussy this fucking good, this thoroughly stretched out—

You can’t get enough.

But even your body has limits. You can only hang on for so long. It’s beyond your control now; you’ll eventually be consumed by the very fire you started. Trapped between her legs, it’s heaven and hell all at once. 

“Dani—I’m almost there—”

You’re throwing it out there to the wind, expecting a playful response, a desperate demand, a call to action. Instead, you’re met with the usual: her airy moans. She’s completely lost in her own bliss, shaking, bouncing with every thrust, unable to register a single word, only cock. 

It’s a strange yet beautiful sight; Danielle as your personal cocksleeve, freely used as an outlet for your pleasure.

With your brain turning to mindless mush, her pussy milks your cock for your worth. Draining every last drop, blasting specks and eventually blanks into her tight hole till it’s gushing from her cunt. Slick mixed with her juices, spilling down her legs and onto sheets, beyond the point of repair.  

No time to let the satisfaction sink in. Pleasure turns to relief almost immediately. There’s no celebration nor comfort. You’re hanging on by a thread. Sinking back onto the headrest, your vision blurring, the image of Danielle’s pussy throbbing—leaking—as her body crouches down in a pool of your cum, still on her fours. From screaming her heart out, being an insufferable brat, reduced to an absolute, irredeemable mess.

Minji crawls over to Danielle, slowly guides her beside you, reassuring her that you’ve fucked her senseless. It’s the understatement of the century.

“Stay here,” you tell Minji, using the dying sliver of energy you have left as your world gradually fades to black. Leaving her with a soft smile, you lay down and finally call it a night.

The last thing you feel is the wrap of an arm over your chest. Then another. And finally, a faint whisper, followed a soft peck:

“Goodnight, sweet prince.”

—————

Unsurprisingly, when you wake up, there’s not a trace of them to be found in the morning. 

Check your clock and you’re already 30 minutes behind. Sun’s already bright and overhead, so you rush through your morning routine to be at work like normal. When you get there, you’re already an hour and a half late. You can blame the morning traffic for that. But tardiness is the least of your concerns.

Overnight, the company is scrambling—even more than normal. A look at the TV screens and it’s oh so easy to figure why. It’s all over the news and social media: a high data security breach seemingly exposing the company’s media manipulation, countless backhanded statements and remarks about rival companies and various idol name drops. So much negative press that has led to calls about a deep investigation into the entire operation. 

You can only wonder as to how this all happened.

And then you see them. All five together, including the same two girls you fucked the night before. 

As they step into one of the lifts with their staff, Minji and Danielle are the last to enter, catching you even from a distance with a smile and playful wink before they disappear from view. 

Before you can even react, your attention is drawn by a much less welcoming presence. A harsh voice calls your name as she walks past you and towards the elevators, carrying with her a reminder of the consequences:

“Come see me in my office. Let’s talk about the data breach.”

Time to put those newly acquired million dollars to good use.

————— (A/N: Thank you for the commission! Always wanted to write NewJeans/NJZ again, especially Minji, but never had an idea. Excited for their redebut, here's praying everything works out for them. Thank you for reading!)