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jupiterpilgrim · 2 days ago

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Drown With Me

Pt.3: Ecdysis

Ningning x Minji x Male Reader

word count: 23K

part 1 | part 2

Love hurts.

But honestly, who would survive without love?

A small window into the present:

The park is quiet this afternoon, the kind of peace that feels slightly artificial—manicured paths, neatly trimmed grass, and a fountain bubbling in the center as if someone planned it to be calming. The air is crisp but not cold, the weak winter sun filtering through the bare branches. You sit on a bench near the lake, waiting. It’s been a week since dinner at Minji’s parents’ house, a week of strained silences and avoidance. Not intentional, not entirely, but life has gotten in the way. Work has been relentless, and honestly, you weren’t sure how to approach her after everything. That dinner had been a disaster—a collision of expectations and tension, her parents’ thinly veiled judgment clinging to the air like smoke.

You spot her before she sees you, walking down the path with her usual poised stride. Minji is dressed simply—a long, beige wool coat belted at the waist, black boots clicking softly against the cobblestones. Her hair is tied back into a sleek ponytail, and her glasses reflect the weak sunlight. Even in this casual setting, she’s impeccable, and it makes you feel a little underdressed in your battered jacket and scuffed boots.

She notices you and gives a small, polite wave. You stand up as she approaches, shoving your hands into your pockets to hide your nerves.

“Hey,” she says, her voice calm but guarded.

“Hey,” you reply, gesturing to the bench. “Thanks for meeting me.”

She nods, sitting down gracefully, her hands folded neatly in her lap. You sit next to her, leaving a deliberate gap between you.

“How’ve you been?” she asks, breaking the silence first.

“Busy,” you say. “Work’s been... you know, the usual.”

She hums softly, her eyes on the lake. “And otherwise?”

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the ground. “I started therapy.”

That gets her attention. She turns her head, her expression softening slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding slowly. “I—I needed to. I’ve been thinking about what you said, about dealing with my shit instead of burying it.” You glance at her, trying to gauge her reaction. “My psychologist recommended AA, too. I'm thinking of giving it a try. I’m not blaming it all on the drinking, but I think it’s tied up in... everything else.”

Minji’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile. “I’m really glad to hear that. I know it wasn’t easy for you to get to this point.”

“It wasn’t,” you admit, leaning forward, your elbows on your knees. “But I think it’s the right thing. I’m tired of feeling like I’m just surviving day to day.”

She nods, her gaze softening. “You’re taking a step, and that’s what matters. I'm proud of you.” There’s a pause, the kind that feels both comforting and uncomfortable. You shift slightly, the tension in your chest easing just enough to let you exhale.

“What about you?” you ask, your voice quieter now. “How’ve you been holding up? How are your parents?” Minji’s expression falters for a moment, the mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the strain beneath. She adjusts her glasses, buying herself a second before answering.

“They’re... adjusting,” she says carefully. “It’s a lot for them. They’re not used to this kind of… situation. Nobody really is.”

You nod slowly, unsure what to say. Dinner had been rough—her father’s terse remarks, her mother’s forced smiles, the unspoken tension hanging over the table like a storm cloud.

“I hope I didn’t make things worse,” you say quietly.

Minji shakes her head. “This had to be done sooner or later. They’re just... traditional. It’s going to take time for them to see things differently.”

You watch her for a moment, the way her fingers fidget with the belt of her coat, a rare crack in her usual composure. “I want to make it right,” you say softly. “With them. With you.”

She glances at you, her expression unreadable. “We'll get there.”

The restrained distance between you feels less sharp now, softened by the honesty in her tone. You both sit in silence for a while, watching the ducks glide across the lake.

“I meant it, you know,” you say eventually. “About wanting to change. I don’t want to keep screwing things up.”

Minji turns to you, her gaze steady. “I believe you.”

You nod, the weight on your shoulders lifting just enough to make the world feel a little less heavy.

“Thank you,” you say.

—

The park ice cream stand is one of those charmingly outdated carts with a cheerful umbrella and a grumpy vendor who only half-cares whether you want sprinkles or not. You order two cones—strawberry for Minji, chocolate for yourself—and hand hers over as the two of you start walking. It’s quiet, save for the soft crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional laughter of kids running past. You’re trying to keep the momentum going, anything to draw her out a little more after the conversation about her parents.

“So,” you say, licking your cone, “are you sleeping any better these days?”

Minji glances at you, her lips brushing against the edge of her ice cream. “Not really,” she admits after a pause.

“Still the nightmares?”

She nods, looking ahead at the path, her face thoughtful. “It’s weird. I’ve always had the occasional bad dream, but ever since... you know, the hospital, it’s like my brain can’t let me have a single peaceful night.”

You frown, concern tightening in your chest. “What are they about? Same one, or do they change?”

“They change,” she says, her voice soft but steady. “But there’s this one I’ve been having lately. It’s... strange.”

“Strange how?”

She takes a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “I’m in this garden. It’s beautiful, like something out of a storybook. Perfectly trimmed hedges, colorful flowers everywhere, the works. It feels like mine, you know? Like I take care of it.”

You nod, already intrigued. “Go on.”

“And there are these birds,” she continues, her voice taking on a distant quality. “Hundreds of them, all in cages. They’re everywhere—hanging from trees, lining the paths. But they’re not unhappy. It’s like... they belong there.”

“Okay,” you say, licking your cone thoughtfully. “Then what happens?”

“Something breaks,” she says, her brows furrowing slightly. “I don’t know what—maybe the wind, maybe it’s me—but the cages all shatter at once. Suddenly, the birds are flying everywhere. They’re panicked, and so am I. I’m running through the garden, trying to catch them with my hands.” Her voice trembles just slightly, and you glance at her. She’s still looking straight ahead, her posture composed but her eyes haunted.

“Why were you trying to catch them?” you ask softly.

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I just... I felt like I had to. Like, if I didn’t, something terrible would happen. They were important to me. But there were so many, and they kept slipping away, no matter how hard I tried.”

“Did you catch any?” you ask.

She shakes her head again. “I don’t know. I always wake up before I can figure it out. But it’s so... desperate, you know? Like this frantic feeling in my chest that doesn’t go away, even after I’m awake.”

You take a moment to process that, glancing at her as she licks her cone absentmindedly, lost in thought. “You know,” you say finally, “I think you caught some.”

She looks at you, surprised. “What?”

“The birds,” you say, shrugging. “I mean, if they’re that important to you, I like to think you managed to catch at least a few. Maybe not all of them, but some. The important ones.”

A faint smile tugs at her lips, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re an optimist, huh?”

“Not really,” you admit, finishing the last of your cone. “But I figure dreams are weird like that. They don’t always give you answers, so you might as well make up the ones you like.”

She chuckles softly, and for the first time that day, she seems a little lighter. “Maybe you’re right.”

You walk in silence for a while, the sound of the gravel underfoot filling the space between you. The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the park.

“Thanks,” she says suddenly, her voice quiet but sincere.

“For what?”

“For this,” she says, gesturing vaguely to the park, the ice cream, the conversation. “For listening. You know I like talking to you, I always have.”

“Anytime,” you say, meaning it.

As you walk back toward the bench where you started, you glance at her again. She still looks a little haunted, a little worn down, but there’s something else now too—a faint glimmer of hope, like maybe she’s starting to believe she can catch at least some of those birds.

—

Back to the past

The bar hums with the low buzz of voices, the occasional clink of glasses, and the muted crackle of a classic rock playlist that’s been stuck on repeat all week. You’ve been here since six, same as always, pouring drinks and wiping counters, forcing smiles and easy conversation like a well-rehearsed act. The clock ticks past ten, and you’re starting to think everyone’s forgotten your birthday.

Not that you expected much. Birthdays aren’t exactly high on the list of priorities when you’re juggling shifts and school deadlines. Still, the lack of acknowledgment stings more than you’d care to admit.

You’re stocking glasses when the door swings open, and in walk Ning and Minji, their energy lighting up the place like a spark in dry kindling. Minji’s carrying a neatly wrapped box, and Ning—beaming from ear to ear—is balancing a modest cake in her hands, the kind that looks too perfect to eat. Behind them, your coworkers suddenly start clapping and shouting, “Happy Birthday!”

You blink, startled, as they gather around.

“Surprise!” Ning practically shouts, setting the cake down on the bar with a flourish. She's wearing this short red dress that you've never seen before, while Minji is cozy in a beige sweater.

“You didn’t think we forgot, did you?” Minji says, her lips curling into a faint smirk.

“Well, I—” You trail off, feeling a ridiculous wave of emotion swell in your chest. “You guys are insane.”

“Insanely thoughtful,” Ning corrects, nudging you with her elbow.

After your coworkers and even the few customers present at the bar wished you a happy birthday, you find yourself sitting at the counter, a glass of something amber and sharp in your hand, while Ning fusses over the cake she’s brought. She’s crouched on the other side of the bar, carefully lighting the candles one by one, her face illuminated by the small, flickering flames. Minji leans against the counter beside you, her head tilted as she watches Ning, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“You didn’t see this coming, did you?” Minji asks, her tone light but edged with amusement.

“Not even a little,” you admit, taking another sip. “I thought you two forgot.”

“Forgot?” Minji repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Are our morale really that low?”

“We would never forget, silly,” Ning chimes in, straightening up and stepping back to admire her handiwork. She looks at you, her catlike eyes bright with excitement. “Okay, ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“Happy Birthday, obviously,” Minji says, nudging you lightly.

The room quiets as everyone gathers around the bar. Ning starts the song, her voice sweet but a little off-key, and the others quickly join in. Minji doesn’t sing—of course she doesn’t—but she taps her fingers against the counter in time with the melody, her eyes never leaving yours.

When the song ends, Ning beams at you. “Make a wish!”

You stare at the cake, its frosting a perfect swirl of white and blue, the candles flickering like tiny beacons. For a second, you feel like a kid again, the kind of kid who still believes in wishes.

You blow out the candles, and everyone cheers. Ning claps her hands together, practically bouncing on her heels, while Minji leans closer, her voice low enough that only you can hear. “What’d you wish for?”

You smirk, leaning back slightly. “Not telling. It won’t come true if I do.”

“Superstitious,” she murmurs, her lips curling.

The cake is sliced, the drinks keep coming, and the music on the jukebox changes to something faster, something that makes it impossible not to move. You’re buzzed now, maybe more than buzzed, the alcohol blurring the edges of the world in a way that feels like freedom.

Ning is the first to drag you to the small open space near the jukebox, her hand tugging insistently at yours. “Come on,” she says, laughing. “It’s your birthday. You have to dance.”

“I don’t dance,” you protest, but she’s already pulling you along, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Minji follows, her movements slower, more deliberate, but there’s a glint in her eye that tells you she’s enjoying this more than she’ll admit. The three of you end up in a loose, messy circle, moving to the beat in a way that’s more about feeling the music than looking good. At some point, Ning spins you around, her laughter ringing out like bells, and when you turn back, Minji is there, her hands brushing against yours as she steps closer. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades.

—

It’s later—maybe an hour, maybe two—when the dynamic shifts again. The music slows, the room thinning out as people leave, and suddenly it’s just the three of you near the jukebox. You’re sitting on a stool now, another drink in your hand, watching as Ning and Minji dance together.

They move differently when it’s just them. There’s a fluidity to it, a quiet intimacy that makes it hard to look away. Ning’s hands rest lightly on Minji’s shoulders, her head tilted as she says something that makes Minji laugh—a soft, genuine sound that you don’t hear often. Minji’s hands skim Ning’s waist, her touch fleeting but deliberate, and the way they look at each other feels like a conversation you’re not quite part of.

They know you’re watching; Minji glances over her shoulder, her eyes locking with yours for just a second before she turns back to Ning, her lips curling into a smirk. Ning follows her gaze, her expression softening as she meets your eyes.

“Come dance with us,” Ning says, holding out a hand.

You hesitate, the weight of their attention making you feel unsteady in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol. But then Minji tilts her head, her expression calm but expectant, and you realize there’s no saying no. You stand, letting Ning pull you into their orbit. It’s not much—a simple sway to the music, their hands brushing against yours, their laughter low and easy—but it feels like more. Like something unspoken is passing between the three of you, something you don’t fully understand but don’t want to let go of.

At some point, you find yourself sitting at a corner table, away from the noise and laughter. The room spins slightly as you lean back, closing your eyes for a moment to steady yourself.

“Hey.” Ning’s voice pulls you back. She slides into the seat next to you, still wearing that easy grin of hers, the hem of her dress riding up slightly as she crosses her legs.

“Hey,” you mumble, your words slurred but soft. “Having fun?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you say, exhaling heavily. “It’s... nice. Thanks for this.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, her smile softening. “Oh, and I didn’t bring your gift tonight. I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you say, shaking your head. “Your company’s already the best gift.”

Ning’s cheeks flush slightly, and she ducks her head, hiding her expression behind her hair. “That’s sweet,” she murmurs.

There’s a pause, the kind that feels comfortable and heavy at the same time.

Then, Ning speaks again, her voice quieter. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say, your head lolling slightly as you turn to face her.

“Are you and Minji... you know... sleeping together?”

You blink, caught completely off guard. “What? No,” You lie instinctively. Something tells you that telling the truth now, under these circumstances, is not a good idea. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging casually but with an edge of something sharper in her tone. “She’s been meeting you alone a lot lately. And you guys talk about... stuff.”

“Yeah, studies and stuff,” you insist, feeling a little defensive despite the alcohol muddling your thoughts. “That’s it.”

Ning studies you for a moment. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, it’s true,” you say, leaning back and running a hand through your hair. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

Ning shifts closer, her knee brushing against yours. “Okay,” she says, her voice light, almost teasing. “But can I ask you something else?”

“Sure,” you say again, your voice slower now, confused but too drunk to really think it through.

She takes your hand—gentle but deliberate—and places it on her bare thigh. The warmth of her skin jolts through you, and you freeze, your mind struggling to catch up.

“Do you like this?” she asks.

“What... what are you doing?” you stammer, blinking at her.

“Nothing,” she says. Her hand moves yours slightly higher up her thigh, her dress hitching up with the motion. “Just asking a question.”

Your fingers twitch, and she leans in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. “Squeeze it,” she whispers.

You do, but it’s hesitant, your grip light and unsure.

“Do you like it?” she asks again.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” you mumble.

Your hand is still resting on her thigh, and every second it stays there feels heavier, more confusing. The alcohol muddles your thoughts, makes everything feel both too sharp and too distant at once.

“And,” Ning says softly, her voice carrying a dangerous kind of sweetness. “What do you think of my body?”

Your eyes snap to hers, wide and uncertain. “What?”

“My body,” she repeats, tilting her head slightly, her dark eyes almost playful. “Do you like it?”

“I—” You stammer, your throat dry. “Ning, you’re—you’re my friend.”

She smiles faintly, but there’s something sharper behind it. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” you admit, your words slurring slightly. “You’re—you’re beautiful, okay? You know that.”

Her smile widens, but it doesn’t feel warm. “So you do like it.”

“I didn’t say that,” you mutter, rubbing your temples with your free hand.

“Relax,” she says, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. “I’m just asking questions.”

Her fingers brush against yours on her thigh, and you flinch slightly. She doesn’t let go. “Did you know I was the one who reminded Minji about your birthday?”

“What?” you ask, blinking at her.

“The cake?” she says, her tone light but insistent. “The party? That was all me. I thought of the flavor, too. Minji wouldn’t have remembered without me.”

You stare at her, unsure of what to say. “Thanks,” you mumble finally. “I mean it. Thanks for thinking of me.”

Her grip on your hand tightens slightly. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course,” you say, looking at her through the haze of alcohol. “It... it means a lot.”

Her smile softens, but only for a moment. Then, she leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear. “Have you ever imagined me naked?”

The question hits you like a slap, and you jerk back, blinking at her. “What? No!”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her tone unnervingly calm. “You can be honest. I know how guys are. Sooner or later, you all think about it.”

“I haven’t,” you insist, shaking your head. “I swear.”

She tilts her head, studying you like she doesn’t believe you. “Well,” she says quietly, “I’ve imagined you naked.”

You try to pull your hand away, but she keeps it there, sliding it a little higher up her thigh.

“Ning, stop,” you mumble.

“Why?” she asks, her tone almost innocent. “Don’t you like it?”

“I don’t—” You shake your head, trying to focus. “Ning, what’s going on with you?”

Her eyes narrow slightly, her voice dropping lower. “Are you having sex with Minji?”

“For the last time, no!” you say, frustration breaking through the fog in your mind.

“That’s good,” she says, her smile returning. “Because she can’t, you know. Not really.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Her heart,” Ning says, her voice soft but steady. “She can’t handle anything that gets her heart rate up too much. No sex, no heavy exercise... nothing.”

You stare at her, your mind reeling. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” she says, sliding your hand a fraction higher, “that means you don’t have anyone to make you feel good. But I could. If you gave me a chance.”

You feel a sudden urge to vomit, and you finally manage to pull your hand away, the effort making your head spin. “Ning, stop. Please.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice sharper now, almost accusing. “Why won’t you give me a chance?”

“Because,” you say groggily, leaning back against the booth, “you’re like a little sister to me. I want to take care of you, not... not this.”

Her expression flickers, something dark passing over her features. “A little sister?” she echoes, almost disgusted.

“What’s going on with you?” you ask, your voice heavy with exhaustion and confusion.

Before she can answer, a voice cuts through the air, sharp and clear.

“What are you two doing over there?” Minji calls from the other side of the bar, her tone light but with an edge of suspicion.

Ning sits up straight, her movements quick and practiced. She adjusts her dress, tugging the hem back down, and smiles sweetly in Minji’s direction.

“Just talking!” she calls back, her voice cheerful.

Minji raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press, turning back to her drink. Ning glances at you, her smile turning sly.

“You should drink more,” she says softly, nudging a fresh glass toward you. “It’s your birthday, after all.”

Your head is spinning, your thoughts tangled and heavy. You don’t know what to say, so you pick up the glass, hoping the alcohol will blur the edges of whatever just happened.

—

Ning grips the small, neatly wrapped package in her hands, her palms damp with sweat. Her stomach twists with nerves as she walks toward the bar, the memory of last night replaying in a loop she can’t turn off.

She hadn’t slept much, tossing and turning as the weight of what she’d done settled deeper into her chest. The heat of embarrassment burned through her every time she replayed the moment she put your hand on her thigh, the words she whispered, the things she revealed. It had been wrong—she knew that now, knew it even then—but the alcohol and whatever storm had been brewing in her mind made it all seem like a good idea at that moment.

Now, she’s stuck between two strategies. If you remember, she’ll apologize, chalk it up to being drunk, to losing her mind for a second. She’ll laugh it off, maybe throw in some self-deprecating humor about how dumb she can be. But if you don’t remember—well, then she’s off the hook.

And she hopes, desperately, that you don’t.

When she steps into the bar, the air is cool and familiar, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses greeting her like usual. But you’re not there.

“Hey,” she asks one of your coworkers, her voice tight. “Where’s—uh—where is he?”

“In the back,” they reply, jerking a thumb toward the storage room. “We just got a shipment in. He’s organizing it.”

Ning nods, swallowing hard, and makes her way toward the back. Each step feels heavier than the last, her nerves threatening to get the better of her. She clutches the gift tighter, as if it’s a lifeline.

When she reaches the door to the storage room, she hesitates, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

The sight stops her cold.

You’re there, your back to her, leaning against one of the shelves stacked high with boxes of liquor. Minji is in front of you, her hands resting lightly on your chest, her lips pressed against yours in a kiss that’s somehow both casual and intimate.

Minji left the dormitory when Ning was taking a bath, and didn't bother to say where she was going. Now it makes sense.

Ning’s heart plummets, her breath catching in her throat. She doesn’t even think to step back, to hide—she’s frozen, rooted to the spot as the scene plays out in front of her.

Minji’s eyes are closed, but as the kiss lingers, they flutter open—and meet Ning’s.

Minji doesn’t react the way Ning expects. There’s no guilt, no panic, no scrambling to pull away. She’s calm, composed, as if she knew this moment was inevitable. She doesn’t move at first, just looks at Ning with that quiet, assessing gaze of hers. Then, she lifts one hand and nudges you gently, breaking the kiss.

You turn, confused at first, until you see Ning standing there, pale as a sheet, clutching the small package like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

“Oh,” you say, your voice awkward, unsure. “Ning. Hey. What are you doing here?”

Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out at first. She clears her throat, forcing the words out. “They said you were back here.”

“Yeah, uh...” You rub the back of your neck, suddenly very aware of the situation. “We were just, um, sorting the shipment. Minji was helping.”

Ning’s eyes flick to Minji, who’s watching her with that same impassive expression. Not smug, not apologetic—just... unreadable.

Ning nods stiffly, holding out the package like it’s a shield. “I brought your gift.”

You blink, caught off guard, and take it from her hands. “Oh. Thanks. You didn’t have to—”

“It’s fine,” she says quickly, her voice clipped.

You fumble with the wrapping, tearing it open to reveal a hardcover book you’d mentioned weeks ago, something about entrepreneurship or finance that you’d wanted but couldn’t justify buying. Your face lights up, and you look at her, genuinely touched.

“This is... wow. Ning, this is perfect. Thank you.”

Without thinking, you pull her into a hug, the book still clutched in your hand. She stiffens for a moment before relaxing, her arms looping around you loosely.

When you pull back, she’s already stepping away. “I should go.”

“What? No, stay,” you say, frowning. “I was just about to head back to the bar anyway. We can hang out—”

“I can’t,” she cuts you off, her voice flat but with an edge that betrays her. “I have stuff to do.”

Before you can say anything else, she’s already turning, her steps quick and purposeful as she makes her way out of the storage room.

You’re left standing there, the book in your hands, a strange weight settling in your chest.

Behind you, Minji speaks for the first time. “She’s upset.”

You turn to look at her, but her face is as calm and unreadable as ever.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I noticed.”

Minji doesn’t reply, her eyes fixed on the door Ning just walked through.

“Why would she leave like that?” you ask aloud, not really expecting an answer.

“Like I said, she’s upset,” Minji repeats.

You turn to her, frowning. “But why? I don’t get it. It’s not like I did anything wrong.”

Minji tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes steady on yours. “It’s not about you doing anything wrong,” she says, her voice measured and thoughtful. “It’s... Ning.”

“What about her?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Minji sighs softly, taking a step closer to you, her hands clasped in front of her. “Ning likes to be the center of attention. Always has. It’s part of who she is. She doesn’t know how to share things—friends, experiences. She probably thinks I’m stealing you from her.”

You blink, her words sinking in. “Stealing me? That’s... I mean, I don’t think that’s it.”

“She wouldn’t say it outright,” Minji continues, her voice gentle but firm. “But she feels it. She doesn’t like to share her people. And lately, she’s been sharing you more than she’s used to.”

You frown, glancing down at the book in your hands. “I don’t want her to feel that way. I hope I didn’t mess things up with her.”

“You’re not messing anything up,” Minji says, her voice softening as she takes another step closer. “This isn’t your fault.”

You look up at her, and for a moment, you’re caught by the way she’s looking at you—steady, calm, her expression full of quiet understanding. She’s close enough now that you can smell her perfume.

“I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “Maybe I should talk to her.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minji says. “Let me talk to her later. She’ll listen to me.”

You nod slowly, relieved but still uneasy. “Thanks. I just... I don’t want things to get weird, you know?”

“They won’t,” she says, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Trust me.”

Before you can respond, she closes the remaining distance between you, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders.

“You’re not messing anything up,” she says again.

Her gaze locks onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric, and then she leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft but insistent.

You freeze for half a second, but then you find yourself leaning into it, your eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of her mouth against yours sends a rush of heat through your chest.

When she pulls back, her face is still close to yours, her dark eyes searching yours for a reaction.

“Minji,” you murmur.

“You’re not messing anything up,” she repeats, her tone steady but soft. “You’re amazing.”

You feel a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest—confusion, excitement, guilt. But most of all, you feel captivated. Minji is... everything. Beautiful, intelligent, composed. She’s the kind of girl you never thought you’d have a chance with, the kind who feels like a fantasy brought to life.

“Thanks,” you say finally, your voice shaky. “I just... I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“They won’t,” she says simply, her hands sliding down your arms before she steps back, giving you space. “We’ll figure it out.”

You nod, swallowing hard as you watch her. There’s something about her that draws you in, something magnetic and almost overwhelming. You can’t help but feel like you’re being pulled into her orbit, whether you’re ready for it or not.

—

The dorm is silent and cloaked in darkness when Minji steps inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her eyes adjust quickly, tracing the familiar outlines of the room: the tidy desk on her side, the slightly chaotic one on Ning’s, and Ning herself—sprawled face down on her bed like a discarded doll.

Minji knows she’s not sleeping.

She turns on the lamp by her desk, its soft glow casting long shadows across the room. Ning doesn’t stir, but her breathing isn’t the deep, rhythmic pattern of sleep. Her messy hair spills over her pillow in wild waves, her loose top riding up just enough to reveal the curve of her waist above her panties. She’s a cute mess, but a mess all the same.

“Ning,” Minji calls softly, her voice calm, measured.

No response.

Minji crosses her arms, leaning against her desk. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

There’s a beat of silence before Ning turns her head slightly, just enough to meet Minji’s gaze. Her eyes are red, swollen, and have deep dark circles, as if all her accumulated tiredness had collapsed on her at once. Minji doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she holds up the tub of ice cream she’s carrying, Ning’s favorite flavor, like it’s a peace offering. “Sit up,” Minji says gently.

Ning hesitates, her expression guarded, but eventually pushes herself upright, her movements sluggish. Minji walks over and sits beside her on the bed, her posture as perfect as always, even in the dim light.

“Why’d you leave the bar like that?” Minji asks, her voice calm but probing.

Ning shrugs, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I just felt like leaving.”

Minji isn’t buying it. She studies Ning for a moment, then leans in slightly. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Ning doesn’t respond, her silence speaking volumes.

Minji sighs, setting the ice cream tub on the bed between them. “Alright,” she says, her tone soft but purposeful. “Then let me make it easy for you. Yes, I’m seeing him. We’re hooking up.”

Ning stiffens, but she keeps her eyes down, her expression carefully blank.

“Does that bother you?” Minji asks, her voice light but probing, her gaze unwavering.

Ning stays silent, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Minji presses on, her tone shifting to something softer, almost confessional. “I only let things happen because I thought you didn’t care. You’ve always said he’s just your friend. And I believed you.” She pauses, letting her words settle before continuing. “But if I was wrong... if you like him too, tell me. I’ll step back.”

Ning looks up at her then, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Minji says, her expression calm. “You knew him first. You introduced me to him. If you like him, I’ll stop seeing him. Friendship comes first.”

The words hit Ning like a punch to the chest. There’s nothing accusatory in Minji’s tone, no edge to her gaze—just an unshakable calmness that makes Ning feel small and foolish.

“I don’t like him like that,” Ning says finally.

Minji tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just enough to suggest she doesn’t entirely believe her. “Are you sure?”

Ning hesitates, her mind racing. If you and Minji are already together, what difference would it make? You’d never leave Minji for her. She’s better than Ning in every way—prettier, smarter, more composed. Ning would just make everything worse by admitting the truth.

“I’m sure,” Ning says again, forcing the words out.

Minji watches her for a long moment before nodding, as if accepting it. “Okay,” she says softly. “Then why did you leave the bar like that?”

“I was embarrassed,” Ning lies, her voice steadier now. “I saw you two kissing, and... I don’t know. I thought you’d be mad at me for walking in on you.”

Minji chuckles softly, shaking her head. “Why would we be mad? It’s not like we were doing anything wrong.”

Ning doesn’t respond, her fingers still picking at her shirt.

Minji reaches for the ice cream, peeling off the lid and handing it to Ning along with a plastic spoon. “Here,” she says, her voice gentle. “Eat.”

Ning takes it reluctantly, her movements mechanical as she scoops a bite into her mouth.

Minji watches her for a moment before speaking again. “You’re sure everything’s okay?”

Ning forces a smile, one that feels brittle even to her. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Minji exhales softly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Good,” she says. “Because I think... I think I’m falling for him.”

Ning freezes mid-bite, the spoon hovering in the air.

Minji doesn’t seem to notice. “I don’t fall for guys easily,” she continues, her tone contemplative. “You know that. I don’t date just to date. But with him...” She trails off, shaking her head slightly. “It feels different.”

Ning forces herself to swallow, her chest tightening painfully.

Minji reaches out then, her thumb brushing against the corner of Ning’s mouth. “You’ve got ice cream,” she says softly, her touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

The gesture sends a jolt through Ning, and she quickly looks away, focusing on the ice cream in her lap.

“Eat, Ning. You’ll feel better.”

Ning nods, shoveling another spoonful into her mouth, her movements hurried and desperate.

She glances at Minji, who’s watching her with a faint, unreadable smile, and decides to take the plunge.

“Did he say anything about last night?” Ning asks, her voice casual, as if the question doesn’t mean much.

Minji raises an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Just... I don’t know,” Ning says, forcing a shrug. “Like, did he mention anything weird? About the party, I mean.”

Minji tilts her head slightly, studying Ning like she’s trying to figure out what angle she’s working. “No,” she says finally. “Why?”

“No reason,” Ning replies quickly, her eyes dropping back to the tub of ice cream in her lap. “I was just curious. He got very drunk yesterday.”

That makes Minji laugh, soft and elegant. “Oh, trust me, I know. He told me he had a splitting headache and a killer hangover. Said he drank so much he forgot a lot of what happened.” She pauses, her smile turning almost amused. “Apparently, that’s not the first time it’s happened. Seems to be a habit of his.”

Ning nods, her grip on the spoon tightening slightly. “Yeah, I know.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Minji leans back slightly, resting her hands on the bed. “But he was really happy about the surprise party. And he loved your gift.”

Ning feels a sudden urge to cry, but it’s different this time—something bittersweet, something almost tender. “It wasn’t anything special,” she says.

“It was,” Minji counters, her tone firm but kind. “Mostly because it came from you.”

Ning doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she takes another bite of ice cream, the sweetness almost too much now. She glances at Minji, who’s still watching her, and before she can stop herself, the next question tumbles out.

“Have you and him... you know.”

Minji blinks, caught off guard for the first time that night. Her composure falters just slightly before she regains it, smoothing her expression into something neutral. “Not yet,” she says, her voice carefully even.

“But you’ve done something?”

Minji hesitates, then nods, her eyes flickering toward the window as if she doesn’t want to meet Ning’s gaze. “I... gave him a blowjob.”

She doesn’t know why she asked—doesn’t know what she expected—but the answer still hits her like a punch to the chest.

Minji, sensing her discomfort, lets out a soft laugh. “It was the first time a guy’s ever... you know, finished in my mouth.”

Ning swallows hard, her throat suddenly dry. She forces herself to keep her voice steady. “And? How was that?”

Minji shrugs, her lips curving into a faint, wry smile. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be. A little weird, but... not terrible. But no facials with me. That's my limit. It would ruin my skin.”

Ning doesn’t respond, her mind racing. She feels like she’s on the edge of something, teetering between jealousy and shame and something dangerous, something she doesn’t want to name.

Minji stretches slightly, her movements graceful as always, and lets out a small sigh. “I’m exhausted,” she says, her tone softening. “You should brush your teeth when you’re done with that ice cream.”

She leans in then, pressing a light kiss to Ning’s cheek, her lips soft and cool. Ning freezes, the touch sending a shiver through her, but Minji pulls back quickly, standing and moving toward her dresser.

“I’m going to change,” Minji says, her voice light and casual as if nothing unusual had just happened.

Ning watches her, the tub of ice cream still heavy in her hands, and wonders how Minji always manages to walk that perfect line between kindness and control, between affection and distance. And she wonders, for the hundredth time that night, why it hurts so much to lose something she never really had.

—

The kitchen glows under the soft light of your pendant lamp, a warm oasis on a cold evening. Minji is standing at the counter, dressed in a slim, forest-green silk dress that clings to her form without being ostentatious. The fabric moves like water, catching the light every time she shifts her weight or raises her arm. A subtle slit at the hem reveals just a hint of her toned leg as she steps closer to the chopping board. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, a few stray strands framing her face, and her gold-rimmed glasses sit neatly on her nose, catching the light like a delicate accessory she doesn’t even notice.

You stir the sauce simmering on the stove, stealing glances at her as she expertly dices a red bell pepper. The soft rhythm of her knife against the cutting board blends with the faint hum of music coming from the speaker in the corner. It’s some instrumental jazz you picked randomly, but it fits—smooth, understated, just like her presence.

“It’s funny,” she says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. Her voice is calm, clear, the kind that pulls you in without demanding attention. “The lecture I had today—it was about communication, or the lack of it, really.”

You glance over your shoulder, curious. “Yeah? What about it?”

Minji doesn’t look up from her task, the tip of her tongue caught briefly between her teeth as she concentrates on slicing the pepper into perfectly even strips. “How dangerous it is,” she says simply.

“Dangerous?” you echo, turning back to the stove. The sauce is thickening nicely, the smell of garlic and tomatoes filling the space.

“In my field, sure,” she continues, setting the knife down and picking up a carrot. “Business is all about negotiation, asserting yourself, making your position known. If you can’t communicate—if you’re passive, afraid to take up space—people walk all over you. You become... irrelevant.”

You nod, scooping up a spoonful of sauce and tasting it. It’s missing something—salt, maybe. “Makes sense. You’ve got to make yourself heard.”

“Exactly.” She pauses, running the carrot under the faucet, then patting it dry with a paper towel. “But it’s not just in business. It’s everywhere. Relationships, friendships, even just day-to-day interactions. If you can’t say what you think, if you’re always holding back...”

She trails off, her knife poised over the carrot. For a moment, you think she’s lost in thought, but then she shakes her head slightly and starts slicing again.

“It’s cowardly,” she says finally, her tone sharp but not loud. “To let life pass you by because you’re too afraid to say or do anything. It’s—" She stops herself, exhaling softly. “I don’t understand how people live like that.”

“You’re not wrong,” you say instead, reaching for the salt and sprinkling a bit into the sauce. “But some people are just wired differently. They don’t know how to... I don’t know. Assert themselves?”

“That’s an excuse,” Minji replies. She sets the knife down and turns to face you, leaning slightly against the counter. “It’s not about being wired differently. It’s about choice. If you let fear dictate your life, if you don’t fight for what you want—what does that say about you?”

Her eyes are dark, steady, the kind of look that makes you want to nod and agree with her, even if you don’t fully understand.

“I guess it says you’re not living,” you say finally.

“Exactly.” She smiles faintly, turning back to her work. “Not living. Just... existing. Letting other people decide everything for you.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you focus on the food instead. The sauce is perfect now, the pasta boiling steadily in the pot next to it. You grab a wooden spoon and stir, the repetitive motion grounding you.

Minji starts talking again, her voice lighter now, almost casual, but there’s still an edge to it. “We had this case study in class,” she says, slicing the carrot into neat, thin rounds. “A guy who inherited a failing company from his father. Had all the tools, all the resources, but he couldn’t make decisions. Always second-guessed himself, deferred to his advisors, avoided confrontation.”

“What happened to him?” you ask.

“The company went bankrupt,” she says simply. “And he blamed everyone but himself.”

You whistle softly. “Harsh.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s deserved. If you can’t take responsibility—if you can’t stand up and say, ‘This is what I think, this is what I want’—you don’t deserve to succeed. Period.”

There’s a finality to her tone that makes you glance at her again. Her hands are steady as she gathers the sliced vegetables and transfers them to a bowl. There’s no anger in her expression, just quiet conviction, like she’s already decided what the world should be and won’t waste time pretending otherwise.

“I guess you’re right,” you say, draining the pasta and dumping it into the pan with the sauce. “But some people are just... afraid. Of rejection, failure, whatever.”

She snorts softly, reaching for a tomato. “And that’s supposed to excuse them? We’re all afraid. The difference is whether you let it control you.”

“You’re good at this,” you say, gesturing to the cutting board as you plate the pasta.

She glances at you, a faint smile playing on her lips. “At cooking?”

“At everything,” you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your tone.

Her smile widens slightly, and she tilts her head, studying you for a moment. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she says, her voice softer now. “Honestly, I don’t think people realize how much they lose when they hold back,” Minji says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s like...” She pauses, searching for the right words, her knife resting momentarily on the cutting board. “Imagine having all this potential—ideas, feelings, everything—and just letting it rot inside because you’re too scared to let anyone see it. It’s...”

“Wasted,” you finish for her, nodding.

“Exactly. Wasted,” she echoes, her gaze flicking to yours for a moment before returning to the half-sliced tomato in front of her. “I see it all the time. Students who are brilliant but can’t speak up in class. Colleagues who let others take credit because they can’t bring themselves to push back. It’s infuriating.”

“Not everyone can be as fearless as you,” you tease, half-smiling as you wipe your hands on a dishtowel.

She lets out a soft laugh, but there’s an edge to it. “It’s not about fearlessness. It’s about... discipline. Conviction. Knowing what you want and not apologizing for it.”

The words linger in the air, and for a moment, you think she might say more. But then she shakes her head slightly and focuses back on the tomato, her knife moving with a precision that seems almost meditative.

“You really have this figured out, huh?” you say, watching her work.

“I try,” she replies, her voice almost introspective. “But it’s easier to see these things in other people. When it’s yourself...” She trails off, slicing through the tomato, her knife slipping slightly as she loses focus.

“Shit!”

The knife clatters onto the cutting board, and she pulls her hand back, blood welling up from a neat cut on the side of her index finger. For a moment, she just stares at it, as if unable to comprehend what’s happened.

“Are you okay?” you ask, already stepping closer.

“I—I don’t know,” she stammers, holding her hand up as blood starts to drip onto the counter. “I’ve never...”

“It’s not bad,” you say quickly, grabbing a paper towel and wrapping it around her finger. “It’s just a small cut. Let me see.”

She doesn’t move, her body rigid, her breath shallow as she stares at the blood soaking into the towel. “I’ve never cut myself before,” Minji says.

“It happens,” you say gently, trying to keep your tone calm. “Everyone does it sooner or later. Here, hold this tight while I grab the first aid kit.”

You guide her hand to press the towel against the cut and rummage through the drawer until you find the small, rarely used kit. When you return, she’s still standing in the same spot, her expression a mixture of shock and something sharper—anger, maybe.

“Let me clean it,” you say, carefully unwrapping the paper towel. The cut is thin but deep enough to keep bleeding. “It’s not serious, I promise.”

She flinches as you dab at it with an antiseptic wipe, her jaw tightening. “I can’t believe this,” she mutters, more to herself than to you.

“Minji, it’s really not a big deal,” you say, glancing up at her.

“It is to me,” she snaps, then immediately looks away, exhaling sharply. “Sorry. I just... I don’t like this.”

“I get it,” you say, wrapping a bandage around her finger. “But it’s going to heal. Probably won’t even leave a scar.”

Her head snaps up at that. “A scar?”

“Maybe a tiny one,” you admit, trying to keep your tone light. “Nothing noticeable.”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she pulls her hand away as soon as you finish wrapping it. “I’ve never had a scar before,” she says, her voice low but sharp. “Not a single one.”

“Well, if it does scar, it’ll be really small. Barely visible.”

“That’s not the point,” she says, her tone rising slightly. “I don’t want one at all. Why should I have to live with something like that?”

“It’s just a part of life,” you say, shrugging. “Everyone gets scars eventually.”

“Not me,” she retorts, pacing to the other side of the kitchen. “I’ve always been careful. Always.”

“Hey,” you say softly, stepping closer. “It’s really not that bad. I promise.”

She doesn’t look at you, her gaze fixed on her bandaged finger. “Do you think there’s something that can get rid of scars? Like a cream or... something?”

“Maybe,” you say carefully. “I think there are treatments, yeah.”

“Good,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. “I’ll look it up later.”

You nod, deciding not to push her. “If it bothers you that much, we’ll figure it out. Okay?”

She exhales, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay.”

The air between you feels fragile now, like a thread pulled too tight. You want to say something to break the tension, to bring back the easy warmth from before, but you don’t know how. Instead, you reach for the chopping board, picking up where she left off.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggest, glancing at her. “I’ll finish the vegetables.”

For a moment, she hesitates, her gaze lingering on you. Then she nods, walking to the table and sitting down, her movements slower than usual.

—

Dinner unfolds with a quiet kind of intimacy. The two of you sit across from each other at the small dining table, your plates piled high with pasta, the vegetables Minji had been chopping earlier perfectly sautéed and scattered on top. The warmth of the meal fills the space, but the air between you feels delicate, like a glass balancing on the edge of a table.

She’s been quiet since the incident in the kitchen, only speaking when you ask her something directly. You don’t mind the silence, though. You know her well enough by now to understand that she’s working through her thoughts, rearranging them until they feel presentable.

Finally, as you’re finishing the last bite of your pasta, she sets her fork down and looks at you. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, her posture straight but not stiff.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her eyes meeting yours. “About earlier. I didn’t mean to overreact.”

You lean back slightly, letting her words settle. “It’s okay,” you say, your voice calm, steady. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do,” she insists, her gaze dropping to her plate for a moment. “I... I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to make such a big deal out of it. Or ruin the night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you say firmly, leaning forward now, your elbows resting on the table. “I promise. It’s not a big deal. Things like that happen all the time.”

“Not to me,” she murmurs. She takes a deep breath, her fingers tightening slightly in her lap. “I’ve always been... careful. Protected. My parents, my doctors, even my friends... they’ve always made sure I never got hurt. Physically, I mean.”

You nod slowly, giving her space to continue.

“I guess that’s why it rattled me so much,” she says, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. It’s just a tiny cut.”

“It’s not stupid,” you say gently. “I get it. If you’ve never had to deal with something like that before, of course it’s going to feel... bigger.”

She looks at you then, her expression softening. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” you ask, curious.

“Understand me,” she says simply, her voice warm. “Even when I don’t make sense, you... you just get it. Get me.”

You smile, a quiet sense of gratitude settling in your chest. “That’s because I like you, Minji. A lot.”

She ducks her head slightly, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “I like you too,” she says softly.

After a moment, you both rise from the table, moving together to clear the dishes. The easy rhythm returns as you rinse the plates, her hand brushing against yours as she hands you a glass to dry.

When everything is cleaned and put away, you lead her to the couch, the soft hum of the jazz playlist still filling the background. She sits down first, but then, without hesitation, shifts onto your lap. Her body fits against yours like it belongs there, her dress cool against your hands as they find their way to her thighs.

Her arms loop around your neck, and for a moment, she just looks at you.

“I really like you,” she says again, her voice quieter now, more intimate.

“I feel the same way,” you reply, your hands instinctively tightening their hold on her thighs.

She leans in then, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that starts soft, tentative. But as you respond, as your hands slide up her legs and her fingers tangle in your hair, the kiss deepens, the world outside the two of you fading into nothing.

Her breath hitches slightly as you pull her closer, your hands finding the bare skin just above the slit in her dress. Her lips taste faintly of the wine you had with dinner, warm and lingering, and you think you could stay like this forever.

When she finally pulls back, her forehead resting against yours, she exhales softly, her fingers tracing the back of your neck. “I’m happy,” she says quietly.

You smile. “Me too.”

Her warmth presses against you, your hand rests lightly on her thigh, the silk of her dress cool and slippery under your palm. It should feel perfect, unbroken, but something niggles at the edge of your mind.

Ning.

You don’t know where the thought comes from, but it’s there, uninvited, lingering like a shadow just out of reach. Your hand flexes slightly against Minji’s thigh, and she notices, tilting her head to look at you.

“Something on your mind?” she asks.

You hesitate, trying to shake it off, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. “Is Ning okay? I mean, really okay?”

Minji blinks, her lips parting slightly in surprise. For a moment, she’s quiet, her gaze searching yours. Then, she smiles faintly, leaning back just enough to study your face.

“I told you,” she says calmly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on the nape of your neck. “I talked to her. She’s fine.”

You nod, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “What did she say? I just—she seemed upset that night at the bar.”

Minji’s smile doesn’t falter, but something shifts in her eyes. “She said she was embarrassed. That’s all. Embarrassed and worried she might be... getting in the way of us.”

“In the way?” you echo, frowning.

Minji hums softly, her thumb brushing against your jaw. “You know how she is. Always second-guessing herself, always afraid of being too much. She didn’t want to... complicate things.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing her words. Your hand is still on her thigh, your thumb brushing absently against the slit in her dress. The thought of Ning being embarrassed—or worse, feeling like she doesn’t belong—makes you feel wrong somehow. “She didn’t need to leave like that,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Minji.

“No,” Minji agrees, her voice soothing. “But that’s Ning. She always runs before she can let anyone help her.”

The words sting, though you’re not sure why. Minji shifts in your lap then, her movements deliberate, and takes your hand in hers. For a moment, you think she’s going to pull it away, but instead, she guides it down, sliding it under the edge of her dress.

You freeze, your breath catching as your fingers brush against the soft fabric of her panties. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even falter, her hand pressing yours firmly against her.

“Keep going,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Minji,” you start, but she cuts you off with a small, reassuring smile.

“It’s fine,” she says, her voice steady. “I want you to.”

Her hips roll subtly against your hand, and instinct takes over, your fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles over the fabric. She exhales softly, her body relaxing against yours, but her gaze remains locked on you, sharp and unflinching.

“Ning really is a good friend,” she says suddenly, her tone casual.

The words catch you off guard, but you nod, your movements faltering slightly before you find your rhythm again. “Yeah. She is.”

Minji hums in agreement, her head resting against your shoulder. “I like her. She’s sweet. A little naive, maybe, but sweet. Sometimes I think of her as a doll, but I can never decide whether she's made of cloth or porcelain.”

You’re not sure how to respond. Your hand is still moving, the heat of her seeping through the fabric, and the dissonance between her words and what you’re doing is dizzying.

“She’s always been so... eager to please,” Minji continues, her voice soft but steady. “It’s endearing. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, unsure if you’re agreeing with her or just trying to keep up.

“She looks up to you,” Minji adds, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Did you know that? She talks about you all the time.”

“Does she?” you ask, your voice thick, your movements slowing as the conversation twists into something unknown.

“Mhm.” Minji’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, her body arching slightly against your hand. “She admires you. Trusts you. I was the only one she felt this way about… until you came along.”

The weight of her words settles over you, heavy and disorienting. Your fingers pause, but Minji presses down against your hand, guiding you to keep going.

“She’s lucky,” she murmurs, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. “To have someone like you.”

“Minji...”

Her eyes snap open, locking onto yours, and the intensity there makes your breath hitch. “Don’t stop,” she says, her tone firm but not unkind.

You obey, your hand moving again, and she lets out a soft sigh, her head tilting back slightly.

“I mean it,” she says, her voice quieter now. “You’re good to her. Better than she knows how to be to herself.”

There’s a finality to her words, a weight that presses against you even as her body moves in perfect sync with your hand. The contrast—the tenderness of her words, the sharpness in her gaze, the heat of her pussy against your fingers—leaves you unmoored, unable to do anything but follow her lead.

As her breathing quickens, her grip on your shoulder tightens, and you can feel the tension building in her body. But her expression remains calm, composed, her eyes never leaving yours.

When she finally pulls back, her chest rising and falling with each breath, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that feels like both a reward and a warning.

“Do you understand?” she murmurs, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “We must take care of her.”

And somehow, despite everything, you nod.

Minji’s lips press against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for misunderstanding. It’s a kiss that demands, that consumes, that floods every sense. Her fingers find the back of your neck, pulling you closer, her touch as steady and deliberate as the woman herself.

When she finally breaks away, just enough to catch her breath, her dark eyes search yours, gleaming with something you can only describe as hunger. She reaches up, slipping her gold-rimmed glasses off her nose with a slow, deliberate motion, and places them on the cushion beside her.

“Take me to the bedroom,” she murmurs, her voice low, husky.

You hesitate for just a moment, searching her face for any sign of doubt. “Are you sure?” you ask, your voice softer than you expect.

“Yes,” she says firmly, her hands gripping the sides of your face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her words leave no room for argument. You kiss her again, deeper this time, your hands tangling in her hair as she pulls you closer, her body pressing against yours like she’s trying to meld into you. It’s clumsy and desperate as you guide her toward the bedroom, bumping into walls and laughing softly between kisses.

By the time you reach the bed, you’re both breathless, flushed. She steps back for a moment, her hands moving to the straps of her dress. You watch, your pulse pounding in your ears, as she lets the silk slide off her shoulders and fall to the floor in one fluid motion.

Her lingerie is understated but stunning—a black lace bra that clings to her curves and a matching pair of panties, delicate and sheer, the fabric clinging to her hips like a second skin. The lace pattern catches the dim light of the bedside lamp, adding an air of quiet elegance to the raw heat between you.

She smiles then, a slow, teasing smile that makes your stomach flip. Stretching her arms out, she falls back onto the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillows. “Your turn,” she says.

You chuckle, feeling a rare flicker of self-consciousness as her eyes roam over you. Kicking off your shoes and pulling off your shirt, you move quickly, her gaze following every movement. By the time you’re down to just your underwear, she’s propped herself up on her elbows, her smile widening.

“Not bad,” she teases, her tone light but edged with genuine appreciation.

“Not bad?” you repeat, grinning as you crawl onto the bed.

Before she can answer, you’re on top of her, your hands braced on either side of her head, your lips crashing into hers with a force that steals her breath. She arches against you, her hands running down your back, her nails pressing lightly into your skin as your kisses grow more frantic, more demanding.

Her laughter mixes with soft gasps as you trail kisses down her neck, her shoulders, the curve of her collarbone. Her skin tastes faintly of the lavender lotion she always uses, warm and familiar.

“You’re overdressed,” you mutter against her skin, your fingers toying with the clasp of her bra.

She laughs softly, her hands sliding into your hair. “Then do something about it.”

You do, the clasp giving way easily under your fingers. The bra slips off, and for a moment, all you can do is stare, taking in the sight of her bare skin, her confidence, the way she doesn’t flinch or shy away from your gaze.

“You’re incredible,” you whisper, and her smile softens, her hands pulling you down for another kiss.

Her skin is impossibly soft under your hands, warm and alive as your fingers trail over her collarbones, down the slope of her shoulders, and back to the curves of her breasts. The contrast between her confidence and the slight tremble in her breath makes your pulse race. You take your time, letting your thumbs graze over her nipples, dark and inviting, their perfect areolas standing out against her smooth skin.

Minji sighs softly, her chest rising under your touch. You lower your head, your lips brushing against one nipple before your tongue flicks over it, savoring the way her body responds—a sharp intake of breath, her fingers tangling in your hair.

You suck gently at first, then harder, your mouth working over her, tasting her, teasing her. Your other hand cups her other breast, your thumb circling her nipple in time with the rhythm of your mouth. She gasps, her back arching into you, her hips shifting beneath your weight as if she can’t stay still.

“God,” she whispers, her voice breathy and raw. “You’re—” She doesn’t finish, the words melting into another soft moan as you move to her other breast.

You give it the same attention, your tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around her nipple before you take it fully into your mouth. Her hands tighten their hold on you, pulling you closer, her body alive under yours.

When you finally pull back, both nipples glistening, hard from your attention, she’s looking at you with half-lidded eyes, her lips parted, her breath shallow. You lift your head, your lips brushing hers lightly before your noses meet, a quiet moment of intimacy as they nudge and caress each other.

She smiles against your lips, soft but full of mischief. “My turn,” she murmurs, her voice still heavy with desire.

Before you can respond, she pushes against your chest, flipping you onto your back with surprising strength. She straddles you for a moment, her hair falling around her face like a curtain as she leans down to kiss you again—slow, deep, her tongue teasing yours before she pulls away.

She crawls backward, her hands trailing down your chest, your stomach, until she reaches the waistband of your underwear. Her fingers hook into the fabric, and she glances up at you, her eyes dark and gleaming with intent.

“You don’t mind if I take these off, do you?” she asks.

“Be my guest,” you manage, your voice thick.

She smirks, tugging your underwear down slowly, deliberately, her nails grazing your skin as she goes. She takes her time, her movements unhurried, like she’s savoring the moment. When she finally pulls the fabric free, she tosses it aside without a second glance, her eyes fixed on you, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.

“Perfect,” she says softly, more to herself than to you, her hands sliding up your thighs as she settles between your legs.

Minji lingers for a moment, her lips hovering just above your skin, close enough that you can feel her breath but not her touch. The anticipation is maddening, every nerve in your body strung tight as she takes her time, her hands steady on your thighs.

She starts slowly, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to the base of your shaft. The warmth of her lips makes you shudder, and she smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. Her mouth trails upward, planting light kisses along the length of you, her tongue darting out occasionally to flick against your skin.

“God, Minji,” you murmur, your voice thick and strained.

“Patience,” she says softly, her tone almost playful. “I want to enjoy this.”

Her lips reach the tip, her kiss lingering there as if she’s savoring the moment. Her tongue flicks out, running over the head in a slow, deliberate motion that makes your breath hitch. The first bead of precum gathers, and she laps it up with a quiet hum of satisfaction, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“You taste good,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry.

You’re too far gone to respond, your body already aching for more. She seems to know exactly what she’s doing, letting her tongue circle the head, her movements deliberate, teasing. Every flick, every graze, every soft kiss feels calculated to drive you to the edge without giving you what you’re desperate for.

When she finally takes you into her mouth, it’s slow, her lips wrapping around the tip and sucking gently, just enough to make you groan. She pulls back slightly, her tongue pressing against the underside as her hand wraps around your base, stroking in time with her movements.

She takes more of you in, her mouth warm and wet, her lips sliding down your length with a slow, practiced rhythm. Her hand moves with her mouth, stroking the part of you she can’t yet take, her fingers firm but gentle. She hums softly, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your hands gripping the sheets as she sets a steady pace, her head bobbing slowly, her hair falling around her face.

She glances up at you, her eyes locking with yours, and the intensity there nearly undoes you. Her movements quicken slightly, her tongue working in tandem with her lips as she takes you deeper, her free hand pressing against your thigh to keep you steady.

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter, her focus unbroken as she works you over, her lips and tongue and hand driving you to the brink.

And just when you think you can’t take any more, she slows, her mouth pulling back slightly, her lips leaving you with one last teasing kiss before she leans back, her smile wicked and satisfied.

“Enjoying yourself?” she asks.

“Are you kidding?” you manage, your breath ragged.

She laughs softly, her hand still stroking you lazily. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.” Her hand replaces her mouth for now, stroking you slowly, deliberately, as she leans down further. Her lips trail lower, pressing kisses along the sensitive skin beneath your length, her tongue flicking out to taste as she goes.

She settles between your legs, her warm breath ghosting over your balls before she places an open-mouthed kiss there, her tongue dragging lazily over the soft skin. A low groan escapes your throat, your hands fisting the sheets as she takes her time, exploring every inch with her lips and tongue.

“Fuck, Minji,” you murmur, your voice hoarse.

She hums softly in response, the vibration sending a spark of pleasure through you. Her tongue traces slow, deliberate circles over one ball, her lips following close behind to suck gently, her saliva pooling and making everything slick. She pulls back slightly, her gaze flicking up to meet yours as a string of spit clings to her lips before breaking.

“You like this?” she asks, her voice low and teasing, her hand still stroking you in time with her movements.

“God, yes,” you groan, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Good,” she whispers, leaning back in.

Her mouth wraps around one ball fully this time, sucking lightly, her tongue rolling over the sensitive skin in slow, deliberate motions. She pulls back only to give the other the same attention, her hands never stopping their steady rhythm along your shaft. Her spit drips down, messy and unabashed, mixing with the heat of her mouth and the wet glide of her strokes.

The sound of it—the wet, lewd noises her mouth makes as she works—fills the room, mingling with your ragged breathing. Every flick of her tongue, every gentle suck, every glance up at you from beneath her lashes feels like it’s designed to undo you completely.

Her free hand moves lower, her fingers pressing lightly against the base of your balls, massaging them in time with her tongue. She’s thorough, relentless, her lips and hands and tongue working in perfect harmony to keep you on the edge without letting you tip over.

“Minji,” you groan, your voice strained, your body taut with need.

She pulls back slightly, her lips glistening, her chest rising and falling with each breath. “Not yet,” she murmurs, her smile wicked as her hand tightens slightly around your length.

“Fuck,” you hiss, your hips jerking against her touch.

“Patience,” she says again, her voice soft but commanding.

Minji’s mouth wraps around you with a deliberate slowness, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head before she slides her lips down your length. Her eyes remain locked on yours, dark and gleaming, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth even as she takes you deeper. The sight of her, so poised and yet so filthy in the way she works you, sends another wave of heat coursing through your body.

Her hand strokes the base of your cock in time with her mouth, her spit dripping down, messy and unapologetic. She hums softly, the vibration making your thighs tense as your breathing grows ragged. You’re holding on by a thread, her movements so precise, so unrelenting, that you can’t think of anything but the need building inside you.

“Minji,” you groan, your voice thick and raw.

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips glistening, her hand still working you. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence, her smile widening as her tongue flicks out to taste you again.

“Enough,” you manage, your hand tangling in her hair. “I need to fuck you. Now.”

She laughs softly, her hand slowing but not stopping. “Hmm, okay, I think you deserve a break,” she teases, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your cock before pulling away.

You sit up, reaching for the drawer beside the bed, your hands fumbling slightly as you grab a condom. Minji watches you with a smirk, leaning back on her elbows, her chest rises and falls as she catches her breath, her hair wild, her lips swollen.

You tear open the foil, rolling the condom over yourself quickly. When you look back at her, she’s watching you with a raised eyebrow, her smile almost mocking.

“You’re on top?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you say, climbing over her, your hands bracketing her hips. “I want to see your tits bounce while I fuck you.”

Her laughter is low and throaty, her hands sliding up your chest. “Direct. I like that.”

You slide your hand between her legs, hooking your fingers around the edge of her panties and pulling them aside. She’s already wet, the heat of her pussy making your pulse quicken as you position yourself at her entrance.

“Minji,” you murmur, leaning down to brush your lips against hers. “If you need to stop—if it’s too much for your heart—you have to tell me.”

For a moment, something flickers in her eyes—frustration, maybe, or something deeper. But she nods, her voice soft but firm. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just... go on.”

You nod, pushing forward slowly, your cock stretching her inch by inch. The warmth of her, the tightness, the way her body yields to yours—it’s almost too much, and you have to force yourself to go slow, to savor the moment.

Her breath hitches, her nails digging lightly into your shoulders as you sink into her fully. “Fuck,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “You feel...”

“You okay?” you ask, your voice strained as you fight to keep still.

She nods quickly, her hands sliding down your back. “Yes. Don’t stop. Please.”

You begin to move, your hips rocking into hers with slow, deliberate thrusts. Her body arches beneath you, her breasts bouncing with every motion, her moans soft and breathy as you find your rhythm. It’s new, electric, every sensation heightened as you lose yourself in her completely.

Your hips move with slow, deliberate precision at first, every thrust designed to make her feel the full length of you. Minji's back arches beneath you, her head pressing into the pillows, and the soft, breathy moans slipping from her lips fuel the fire raging in your veins.

"God, you're so deep," she gasps, her voice breaking as you sink into her again, her tight heat enveloping every inch of you. Her nails rake down your back, her fingers digging into your skin as though she needs to hold on for dear life.

You lean forward, your chest brushing against her bouncing breasts, each motion of your body sending them into a hypnotic rhythm. Your mouth finds her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone, leaving trails of wet, open-mouthed kisses. "You like that, Minji?" you growl against her skin, your voice rough and ragged. "Feel me stretching you, filling you up like this?"

Her answer is a strangled moan, her hands gripping your shoulders so tight it’s as if she’s afraid you’ll stop. "Yes," she pants, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer. "God, you’re so big—I can feel you so deep inside me."

Her words make your pulse spike, a growl rumbling low in your chest as you shift your weight, planting your hands on either side of her head. You increase the pace, your thrusts growing harder, deeper, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. Her moans grow louder, less controlled, her usual composed demeanor shattered beneath the pleasure you're giving her.

"Fuck, Minji," you hiss, your eyes locked on her face, on the way her mouth falls open, her brows pinched in bliss. "You look so fucking good like this—moaning under me, begging for it. Never thought I'd see you like this."

"Fuck—you're... driving me crazy."

"Yeah? That so?" you taunt, leaning down to kiss her, your lips claiming hers with a roughness that leaves no room for doubt. Her tongue meets yours, desperate and needy, her hands threading into your hair and pulling hard.

Her walls tighten around you, her body responding to every thrust, every grind of your hips against hers. "Harder," she whispers, then louder, "Harder! God, I can take it—don't hold back!"

You oblige, slamming into her with a rhythm that’s wild, relentless, each movement pushing her closer to the edge. The headboard rattles against the wall, the slick, wet sounds of your bodies joining filling the room. Her cries grow higher, her hands clawing at your back as if she’s trying to anchor herself amidst the chaos.

"You're so fucking tight, Minji," you groan, your head dipping to suck one of her nipples into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the hardened bud, biting lightly, and her reaction is immediate—a loud, desperate moan that makes you even harder.

"Yes!" she cries, her hips bucking to meet yours. "Oh my God—don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!"

"Look at you," you rasp, pulling back just enough to watch her. Her chest heaves, her hair sticks to her damp skin, and her lips are swollen from your kisses. "You're a fucking mess for me, Minji. You like being fucked like this? Having me ruin you?"

"Yes!" she screams, her voice breaking as her body shudders beneath you. "Fuck, yes! You're—ah—you’re going to make me—oh, God!"

Without missing a beat, you pull back, your cock slipping free from her soaked pussy with a wet, obscene sound that makes her gasp. Minji looks up at you, her flushed face a mix of frustration and anticipation, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

“I'm gonna make you cum hard,” you growl, your hands sliding down her thighs. Her skin is damp and hot under your palms, trembling slightly as you grip her legs and shift her position.

You lift her legs, folding her knees toward her chest, then place them on your shoulders, her panties still aside. The movement leaves her completely exposed, her slick folds glistening in the dim light, her body open to you in a way that makes your cock throb.

Minji lets out a shuddering breath, her hands gripping the sheets beside her head. “What are you waiting for?” she snaps, her sharpness laced with a raw, desperate edge. “Fucking do it.”

Your smirk is wicked as you lean down, pressing your weight into her just enough to make her feel the shift in power. The new angle makes her eyes widen slightly, and you can’t help but revel in the way she’s completely at your mercy.

“Oh, I’ll do it,” you rasp, your cock pressing against her entrance again. “I’m gonna fuck you so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

She doesn’t even have a chance to respond before you thrust back inside her, hard and fast, your cock stretching her again in one smooth motion. Her back arches off the bed, a strangled cry tearing from her throat as the new position lets you sink even deeper.

“God, yes!” she gasps, her hands flying to your forearms, nails digging in as you start to move. “Fuck—so deep—Jesus, you’re—”

“You like that, huh?” you grunt, your hips slamming into hers with a rhythm that’s rough and unrelenting. Her legs tremble against your shoulders, her body jolting with every thrust. “Like being stretched open like this, taking all of me?”

“Yes! Fuck—yes, don’t stop!” she cries, her voice high and breathless. Her walls squeeze you tight, her slick heat making every movement feel like heaven.

You lean forward, pressing her knees closer to her chest, the angle driving you even deeper. She lets out a broken moan, her head thrashing against the pillow as her hands claw at your arms.

“Look at you,” you growl, your eyes locked on her flushed face, the way her mouth falls open with every thrust. “You’re fucking perfect like this, Minji. So wet, so tight—taking my cock so well.”

Her reply is a choked moan, her words lost in the overwhelming sensation. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, her nipples hard and begging for attention. You lean down further, capturing one in your mouth, sucking hard as your hips keep their punishing rhythm.

“God, yes!” she wails, her nails raking down your back. “I can feel you—oh, my God, I can feel you in my stomach!”

Her words send a thrill down your spine, spurring you on. The sound of your bodies meeting—the wet, lewd slap of skin against skin—is loud, raw, and completely unrestrained. Her cries grow louder, her hips lifting to meet yours despite the overwhelming pressure.

“You’re mine, Minji,” you hiss against her skin, your teeth grazing her nipple. “You hear me? No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to fuck you like this.”

“Yes!” she gasps, her body tightening around you. “Yours—I’m yours—just don’t fucking stop!”

Her words are a command, a plea, and you obey, driving into her harder, faster, your cock slamming into the spot that makes her whole body tense and shudder. Her legs shake against your shoulders, her walls clenching so tightly around you that it’s almost too much.

Her head falls back, her voice breaking into a string of curses and moans as her orgasm builds, her body arching beneath you. “Fuck—yes—don’t stop—I’m so close!”

You reach between your bodies, your thumb finding her swollen clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. The added stimulation makes her scream, her entire body locking up as the climax overtakes her.

Her walls flutter and squeeze around you, her cries filling the room as she comes hard, her body shaking violently beneath you. The sight of her—completely undone, wild and raw—nearly pushes you over the edge, but you grit your teeth, determined to hold on just a little longer.

As her orgasm subsides, her body slackens slightly, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. Her eyes flutter open, glazed and hazy, but the look she gives you is pure hunger.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers, her voice hoarse but insistent. “Fuck me until you come.”

You don’t waste a second. The moment those words leave her lips, something primal inside you takes over, your need to claim her completely, to make her yours in every way, surging to the surface. You shift her body with practiced ease, turning her onto her side, her legs tangling slightly as you follow her movement.

She gasps at the new angle, her body arching instinctively as you position yourself behind her. Your chest presses against her back, your arm slipping under her head to cradle her, your other hand gripping her hip to pull her flush against you. The intimacy of the position is electric, raw, and the way her body yields to yours drives you wild.

“You feel that?” you rasp against her ear, your voice low and rough as you slide back inside her, your cock filling her with a single, deep thrust. “Feel how perfectly you fit around me, how tight you are?”

“God, yes,” she whimpers, her hand flying back to grasp at your hip as you start to move, your pace slow but relentless. “You’re so deep—I can’t—oh, fuck—”

Her voice falters as you rock into her, the sideway angle letting you reach deeper than before, your cock pressing against spots that make her whole body tremble. Your hand on her hip slides up, roaming over the curve of her waist, her ribs, her breast. You squeeze her flesh possessively, your thumb flicking over her hard nipple, and she lets out a soft, needy moan, her body arching into your touch.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear before trailing down the side of her neck. “Every inch of you. I could fuck you like this forever, Minji.”

Her answer is a shaky, desperate whimper, her head tilting back against your shoulder to give you more access. Your mouth moves lower, leaving hot, wet kisses along her neck, her shoulder, tasting the salty sheen of sweat on her skin. The scent of her—sex and sweat and lavender—fills your senses, intoxicating and addictive.

Your hand slides down her stomach, your fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in slow, firm circles that make her hips buck against you. She’s so wet, so slick, and every time you thrust into her, the sound of it is loud and obscene, driving you both higher.

“Please,” she breathes, her voice soft but filled with need. Her hand reaches back, her fingers threading into your hair as she clings to you. “Don’t stop. Don’t let go.”

“Never,” you growl, your teeth grazing the curve of her shoulder. “You’re mine, Minji. All of you. And I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think about anything else but how good I make you feel.”

Her body shudders against yours, her walls tightening around your cock as your words send a new wave of heat through her. She turns her head, seeking your lips, and you kiss her hungrily, your tongues tangling as your thrusts grow harder, faster.

Her moans become louder, higher, her hand clutching yours where it cups her breast, her other hand gripping the sheets. “Oh, my God—fuck—I’m so close—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you whisper fiercely, your mouth moving to her ear. “Come for me, Minji. Let me feel you.”

Your fingers press harder against her clit, your cock driving into her with a pace that’s relentless, merciless. Her body tenses, her breath hitching, and then she’s coming undone, her climax hitting her like a tidal wave.

She cries out, her walls clenching around you so tightly that it pulls a groan from your throat, her entire body shaking in your arms. You don’t stop, don’t let up, fucking her through her orgasm as her pleasure peaks. The way she’s clinging to you, her nails digging into your forearm, her breathless gasps of your name—it’s all so intense.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your thrusts growing erratic, completely focused on her pleasure.

“Yes,” she gasps, her voice trembling. “Please—don’t stop—I want to feel it all—”

Her words spur you on, and you continue to drive into her, every movement designed to prolong her ecstasy. With one last, deep thrust, you bury yourself inside her, feeling her body convulse around you as her orgasm reaches its peak, your breath ragged as you hold her close.

For a moment, neither of you move, your bodies tangled. Then Minji shifts slightly, turning her head to press a soft kiss to your jaw.

“You’re incredible,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but filled with warmth.

“So are you,” you murmur, your arms tightening around her.

She’s still trembling slightly, her slick pussy clenching around your cock, her breath shallow and uneven as she tries to recover. You pull back slightly, adjusting your angle, and thrust into her again, slow but deliberate, dragging a gasp from her parted lips.

"Not done with you yet," you growl against her ear, your hand sliding down her body, fingers tracing the curve of her waist, her hip. "You’ve got another one in you, don’t you, Minji?"

"I—" she starts, but her words cut off with a sharp moan as you roll your hips, the movement grinding your cock against her sweet spot. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her hand clawing at your forearm where it holds her steady.

"That’s what I thought," you murmur, your lips brushing the shell of her ear before trailing down her neck. You suck hard enough to leave a mark, your tongue soothing the sting as your other hand slips between her legs.

Her breath catches as your fingers find her clit again, slick and swollen, and you rub slow, teasing circles over it in time with your thrusts. "God, you’re so wet," you say, your voice rough with desire. "You hear that? Hear how messy you are for me?"

The lewd, wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of her echo through the room, and Minji’s cheeks flush even deeper. "Please—ah, fuck—" she tries to speak, but another roll of your hips cuts her off, leaving her gasping.

"Uh-uh," you taunt, biting down lightly on her shoulder. "You don't have to say anything, baby. Just moan for me. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel."

Her moans grow louder, her hips rocking back to meet yours despite the overwhelming pace. Her body is completely pliant in your hands, her usual control stripped away by the sheer intensity of the pleasure you’re giving her.

"Fuck—so deep—" she gasps, her voice breaking as you press harder against her clit, your thumb working in tight, relentless circles. "I can’t—oh, God, I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," you whisper fiercely, your teeth grazing her earlobe. "You’re gonna come for me again, Minji. I can feel it. Your body’s begging for it, squeezing me so fucking tight—"

"Shit—ah—" Her words dissolve into a strangled cry as your fingers pinch her clit lightly, the shock of sensation making her thighs tremble.

"You like that?" you rasp, your thrusts growing harder, sharper, each one driving her closer to the edge. "You like being fucked like this? My cock filling you so deep you can’t even think straight?"

"Yes—fuck, yes—don’t stop—" Her voice pitches higher, her hands scrambling to find purchase on the sheets, your arm, anything to anchor herself. "I’m so close—I’m gonna—ah, fuck, I’m gonna—"

"Come for me, Minji," you command, your voice low and rough. "Come on my cock again. Let me feel you fall apart."

It’s all she needs. Her body seizes up, her walls clamping down on you in a vice grip as her orgasm tears through her. She lets out a loud, broken cry, her nails digging into your arm, her legs shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

"That’s it," you murmur, riding her through it, your thrusts slow but deep. "Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. So fucking perfect."

Her cries taper off into soft, breathless whimpers, her body going limp against you, utterly spent.

You pull her close, wrapping her up in your arms and covering her in kisses. Your lips trace her cheeks, her jawline, the delicate curve of her neck, every press of your mouth filled with an intensity that makes her sigh softly against you. Her plump lips, slightly smudged with lipstick from your earlier assault, part as she lets out a quiet moan when your tongue teases along her bottom lip.

“You’re stunning,” you murmur against her mouth before capturing it again in a deep kiss. When you finally pull back, your forehead presses against hers, your breaths mingling in the shared, charged air. “Do you want to take control now?”

Her answer comes as a throaty moan, her nails lightly grazing your chest. “Yes,” she whispers.

Your lips curl into a wicked smile as you tilt her chin up to meet your gaze. “Do you like being in control?”

“Yes,” she breathes, the single word coming out as a desperate sound. Her hips shift slightly against yours, the motion sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Do you want to make me cum?” you ask, your voice dropping lower, rougher.

Her dark eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of mischief and raw desire. “I really want to,” she confesses, her voice dripping with need.

Your hand comes up to cradle her face, your thumb brushing over her swollen lips. “You have no idea,” you murmur, your tone heavy with honesty, “how hard it’s been to keep my eyes off you since the first day you walked into that bar.”

Her breath hitches, her fingers curling around your wrist as her lips brush against your thumb. “Is that so?” she asks, her tone light, teasing, but her cheeks flush a deeper red.

“Yes,” you admit, your eyes scanning her face. “Every time you walked in, I couldn’t stop staring. You were so calm, so composed, and all I could think about was ruining you.” You let the words hang for a moment, letting their weight settle between you.

She bites her lip, her gaze flicking down to your chest before meeting your eyes again. “And did you ever imagine us like this?” she asks, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

Your hand trails down her back, pulling her even closer. “Yes,” you confess, your voice raw. “I imagined you riding me. I imagined watching you take control, watching you use me to make yourself come.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, you think she might shy away. But then her lips curl into a wicked smile, her hands pressing against your chest as she pushes you back onto the mattress. The movement is assertive, commanding, and it sends a thrill straight through you.

“Then let’s make that fantasy real,” she purrs, swinging her leg over you to straddle your hips. Her hands slide up your chest, her nails dragging lightly over your skin as she settles herself on top of you.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your hands finding her hips as she shifts her weight, the heat of her pussy pressed against you through the slick mess between you.

“Like this?” she asks, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate motion that makes your cock twitch beneath her. “Is this what you imagined? Me on top, calling the shots?”

“Exactly like this,” you admit, your voice strained. “Except you’re even hotter than I ever imagined.”

Her smirk widens as she reaches down, wrapping her fingers around your length and guiding you to her entrance. “Good,” she murmurs, sinking down onto you with a slow, deliberate motion that makes you both gasp.

Her head falls back, a soft moan spilling from her lips as she takes you in, inch by agonizing inch, until you’re buried fully inside her. Her walls squeeze you tightly, her body adjusting to your size as she braces herself against your chest.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she breathes, her nails biting into your shoulders as she starts to move.

Your hands grip her hips, guiding her movements as she grinds down on you, her rhythm slow and sensual at first. The sight of her above you—her flushed skin, her breasts bouncing slightly with each roll of her hips, her hair falling around her face in a wild curtain—is enough to make your restraint falter.

“God, Minji,” you groan, your head pressing back into the pillows. “You’re incredible. You’re so fucking sexy like this.”

She leans forward, her lips brushing against your ear. “You like it?” she whispers. “Like watching me fuck you like this?”

“Fuck yes,” you growl, your hands sliding up her back to pull her closer. “You’re fucking perfect. Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop.”

Her laughter is breathy, her movements growing faster, more erratic, as she loses herself in the pleasure. “I wasn’t planning to,” she pants, her breath catching as she rides you harder, her nails raking down your chest.

The sight, the sounds, the feel of her—it’s overwhelming, intoxicating. Every roll of her hips sends sparks of pleasure racing through you, and you can tell she’s close again, her moans turning into broken cries, her rhythm faltering slightly as she chases her release.

“Come for me again, Minji,” you urge, your hands gripping her ass, helping her move. “Show me how good it feels to take control.”

Minji settles into a rhythm that’s nothing short of hypnotic. Her hips roll with a perfect, deliberate precision, her thighs flexing as she lifts herself just enough to tease before sinking back down, taking you to the hilt. Every motion sends a jolt of pleasure through your entire body, your cock throbbing inside her tight, wet heat.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your hands sliding up her ass to her hips, gripping them tightly. “The way you move—it’s driving me fucking crazy.”

She smirks down at you, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief and desire. “Good,” she breathes, her lips curling into a teasing smile as she grinds her hips in slow, torturous circles. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Your grip tightens, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you fight the urge to flip her over and take control. But you hold back, letting her have her moment, letting her ride you the way she wants. Her pace is maddening—slow and deliberate, her body squeezing you so tightly with every movement that you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of control.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you rasp, your voice rough with strain. “I can feel every inch of you, Minji. It’s like you were made for me.”

Her breath hitches, her smirk faltering for just a second as a soft moan slips past her lips. “God, you feel so good,” she whispers, her hands bracing against your chest for balance as she starts to move faster, her rhythm quickening.

The sight of her is almost too much—the way her plump lips part with each breathy moan, the light sheen of sweat on her flushed skin, the way her breasts bounce with every movement. She’s a vision, completely uninhibited, completely in control, and it only makes you want her more.

“You look fucking perfect, Minji. The way you take me—shit, I could stay like this forever.”

She laughs softly, the sound low and throaty, and leans forward, her lips brushing against your ear. “Forever, huh?” she whispers, her voice dripping with playful arrogance. “You’re really losing it, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your hands sliding up to cup her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. Her moan is immediate, her body arching into your touch as her hips buck against you. “You’re fucking incredible, Minji. The way you feel, the way you move—I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Her reply is a strangled gasp as she grinds down on you, her movements growing rougher, more desperate. “God, you’re—” She cuts herself off with a sharp moan, her head falling back as her pace falters for just a second. “You’re so big—I can feel you everywhere—”

Her words send a surge of heat through you, your grip on her hips tightening as you thrust up into her, matching her rhythm. “Yeah?” you growl, your voice low and rough. “You like the way I fill you up? Like the way my cock stretches you, baby?”

“Yes,” she cries, her nails digging into your chest as she moves faster, her moans turning into soft, breathless gasps. “Fuck, yes—don’t stop—I don’t want this to stop—”

“Then don’t stop,” you urge, your hands guiding her as she bounces on your cock, the slick sounds of your bodies meeting filling the room. “Ride me just like that, Minji. Fuck, you’re perfect—so fucking perfect.”

She moans louder, her movements growing more frantic as the pleasure builds between you. Her body squeezes you tighter with every motion, the heat and wetness of her making it almost impossible to hold back. But you don’t care. You don’t want to hold back. You want to lose yourself in her completely.

Minji’s movements grow frantic, her rhythm breaking as she chases her high. Her hips slam down onto you, her thighs trembling as she rides you harder, faster, the sound of her ass meeting your hips filling the room in wet, obscene slaps.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your head pressing back into the pillows, your hands gripping her hips to steady her. Her pussy clenches around your cock, impossibly tight, her slick heat driving you closer to the edge with every erratic motion.

Her breath comes in short, desperate gasps, her nails digging into your chest as she moves. Her hair is wild, damp with sweat, sticking to her flushed skin as her moans turn into broken cries.

“God—fuck—I’m so close,” she gasps, her voice high and strained. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna—”

Before she can finish, you act. Sitting up, you wrap your arms around her, lifting her with ease as she lets out a startled gasp. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, her arms looping around your shoulders as you hold her against your chest.

“My turn,” you growl, your voice low and rough as you adjust your grip, your hands sliding down to cup her ass. With one powerful thrust, you bury yourself inside her, pulling a scream from her lips as you take back control.

“Fuck—oh, my God—” she cries, her head falling back as you pound into her, your cock driving deep into her tight, slick heat. Every thrust is hard, relentless, your hips slamming against hers as her body bounces against yours.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you groan, your breath ragged as you move. “Jesus, Minji—you feel like heaven. Taking me so fucking perfectly.”

Her only response is a series of broken moans, her nails clawing at your back as she clings to you, completely at your mercy. Her pussy tightens around you, her walls fluttering as her cries grow louder, more desperate.

“I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna fucking cum!” she screams, her voice breaking as her body tenses, trembling in your arms.

“Come for me,” you command, your voice rough and strained. “Scream for me, Minji. Let me feel it.”

Her entire body seizes up, her head pressing against your shoulder as her orgasm hits her like a tidal wave. She screams your name, her nails digging into your shoulders, her pussy clenching around you in tight, rhythmic pulses that make you see stars.

“Fuck, yes,” you groan, your thrusts never faltering as you ride her through it, your grip on her ass tightening as you slam into her over and over. Her body shakes violently, her cries turning into soft, breathless whimpers as she collapses against your chest, completely spent.

You don’t stop, your cock still buried deep inside her as you hold her close, your lips brushing against her ear. “You’re fucking incredible,” you murmur, your voice soft but filled with awe. “The way you come for me—Jesus, Minji—you’re perfect.”

She shudders at your words, her breath hot and ragged against your neck as her fingers tangle in your hair.

You gently lift Minji from your lap, her body still trembling slightly from the intensity of her orgasm. Her legs are weak, and her cheeks are flushed, but there’s a gleam in her eye, a hunger that hasn’t been sated yet. You kneel on the bed, tilting her chin up so her gaze meets yours.

“On your knees,” you murmur.

Her lips part in a breathless little gasp, but she obeys without hesitation, slipping down to kneel on the floor in front of you. Her hands rest lightly on your thighs, her touch hesitant for a moment as if waiting for your instruction.

You reach down, peeling the condom off and tossing it aside. Your cock is still rock-hard, and her eyes dart down to it, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips.

“Make me cum,” you say. “Make me cum in that pretty little mouth, Minji.”

She doesn’t say a word—she doesn’t need to. Her hands move to your length, her slender fingers wrapping around you as she leans in. Her tongue flicks over the tip first, tasting herself on your cock, and she lets out a soft hum of satisfaction that sends a shiver through you.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hand finding its way into her hair as she slowly takes you into her mouth.

Her lips wrap around your head, soft and warm, and she starts with slow, deliberate strokes, her tongue swirling over the sensitive underside as she takes more of you in. Her hand strokes the base, slick with her spit, matching the rhythm of her mouth.

She glances up at you, her dark eyes locking with yours, and the sight of her like this—on her knees, your cock in her mouth, her lips stretched around you—is almost too much.

“You’re fucking gorgeous like this,” you murmur, your hand tightening in her hair, guiding her movements. “Look at you—such a messy, beautiful little slut for me.”

Her eyes sparkle at your words, and she hums around your length, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. She takes you deeper, her lips sliding down your shaft with a slow, deliberate rhythm that has you gripping her hair tighter.

Her pace quickens, her spit dribbling down her chin as she starts to lose herself in it, her hunger taking over. She pulls back slightly, her tongue swirling around your tip before plunging back down, taking you deeper than before. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth fill the room, mingling with your ragged breaths.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your head tilting back as she works you over. “That mouth of yours—you’re so fucking good at this.”

She gags slightly as she takes you too deep, her throat contracting around you, but instead of pulling back, she swallows hard and coughs a little. Then she looks up at you, her lips swollen, her chin slick with spit, and gives you the cutest, most mischievous smile you’ve ever seen.

“Goddamn,” you mutter, your fingers tightening in her hair as your hips jerk forward slightly. “You are the hottest girl I have ever seen, you know that?”

Her only response is a low hum as she dives back in, her mouth warm and wet, her tongue moving in perfect rhythm with her hand. You take control then, gripping her hair firmly and guiding her movements, setting the pace.

“Just like that,” you rasp, your voice rough and strained. “Take it, baby. Take all of it. You love this, don’t you? Being on your knees for me, choking on my cock?”

She moans around you, her hands gripping your thighs for support as you move her head faster, harder. Tears well up in her eyes, her makeup smudging as spit pools at the corners of her mouth and drips down her chin.

“You’re such a good girl,” you growl, watching her struggle to take you deeper. “Look at you—so fucking messy for me, and I can’t get enough of it.”

Her moans grow louder, more desperate, and she starts sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing as she works you over with a fervor that makes your thighs tremble. You’re close, so fucking close, the tight knot of pleasure in your core threatening to unravel at any second.

Your grip on her hair tightens as her pace grows more frantic, her mouth sliding over your cock with a wet, obscene rhythm that has your entire body trembling. The tight warmth of her lips, the way her tongue works against you, the sight of her on her knees like this—it’s all too much.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your voice strained as you feel the tension building, coiling tight in your core. “I’m so fucking close.”

She pulls back suddenly, your cock slipping from her mouth with a wet pop, and she looks up at you, her lips red and swollen, spit dripping down her chin. “Go all out,” she says, her voice breathless but firm. “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Your breath catches, your grip in her hair slackening for just a moment. “Are you sure?” you ask, your voice low, rough, almost a growl.

“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes dark with determination. “I can handle it. Give me everything.”

Her words ignite something feral in you. Without hesitation, you tighten your grip in her hair, guiding her back to your cock. “Open wide, baby,” you rasp, your voice raw with need.

She obeys, parting her lips and taking you in again, her mouth warm and eager as she lets you set the pace. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. You thrust into her mouth, deep and deliberate, the head of your cock brushing the back of her throat with every motion.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your hips moving with a steady, relentless rhythm. “Your mouth—it’s so fucking perfect. Feels just like your pussy. So tight, so warm—shit, I'm gonna cum so hard.”

Her moans vibrate around you, her hands gripping your thighs for balance as she takes you deeper and deeper. Her throat tightens around you, the sensation almost unbearable, and her eyes water, tears spilling over as drool drips from the corners of her mouth.

“You’re such a good girl,” you growl, your voice rough as your thrusts quicken. “Taking me so fucking well. Look at you—so messy, so perfect.”

She glances up at you, her eyes red and shining with unshed tears, and the sight nearly undoes you. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks harder, her tongue working in tandem with the movements of your hips.

“Goddamn,” you rasp, your hand tightening in her hair as you hold her in place. “I’m gonna cum, Minji. Gonna fill your mouth with it. You ready for that?”

She hums her approval, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you, and you can’t hold back any longer. With a guttural groan, your hips jerk forward, burying yourself deep in her throat as your release hits.

Hot, thick spurts of cum shoot down her throat, and she chokes slightly, her body trembling as she struggles to take it all. But she doesn’t pull away, her hands gripping your thighs tightly, her throat working around you as she swallows.

“Fuck,” you groan, your head tilting back, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you. “Take it all, baby. Swallow every fucking drop.”

She does, her throat contracting as she drinks you down, her tongue swirling over your length as if coaxing more from you. When your hips finally still, your cock twitching as the last of your release spills into her mouth, you don’t pull back right away.

Instead, you keep her there, your hand still firm in her hair, her lips wrapped around you as you catch your breath. “You’re incredible,” you murmur, your voice hoarse as you look down at her.

She blinks up at you, her cheeks flushed, her chin slick with drool and cum, and smiles around your cock, her eyes filled with satisfaction. It’s a sight that sends another shiver through you, even as the intensity of the moment begins to fade.

You finally release her hair, your fingers brushing against her cheek in a moment of tenderness. “You okay?” you ask softly, your voice still rough around the edges.

She nods, pulling back slightly, her tongue darting out to lick her swollen lips. “More than okay,” she whispers, her smile turning wicked. “I told you I could handle it.”

—

The morning is still. The faint light of dawn filters through the curtains, painting soft, pale lines across the bedroom walls. The room is warm, cocooned in the leftover heat of two bodies tangled together through the night, but outside, the air bites with the typical cold morning wind. Minji lies on her side, the blanket pulled up just enough to cover her hips, her upper body bare against the cool sheets. She’s been awake for a while now, watching you sleep.

Your breathing steady, your chest rising and falling under the rumpled comforter. Minji studies you, her dark eyes roaming over the curve of your cheek, the slight furrow of your brow even in rest. She wonders if you always look like this in the morning—calm, almost boyish, as if the weight of the world hasn’t found you yet.

She can’t remember the last time she felt like this. Like last night. Intense. Raw. Alive in a way she hasn’t been in years, maybe ever. Her heart aches—not in the poetic sense, but the literal one—and she remembers the sharp, searing pangs that struck her chest after you left the bed last night.

You’d gone to brush your teeth, humming faintly to yourself, water running in the sink. She’d waited until the door closed before scrambling to her purse, her fingers fumbling to find the small orange bottle. The pills rattled like a cruel reminder as she popped the cap and dry-swallowed two, her breath shallow, her chest tight.

The worn pill bottle, a constant companion in her purse for safety and convenience, as her doctor had recommended, held only two pills remaining after months of sporadic use. But now it's empty, and the prospect of replacing it fills her with a sense of dread.

Even now, the memory of it stirs something dark in her. Disgust. Weakness. She is beautiful, young, confident—by all accounts, powerful. But her body betrays her, fragile and unreliable, reminding her with every beat of her heart that she is not invincible.

Her lips press into a thin line as the thoughts threaten to pull her under, but Minji has never been one to drown. She takes action.

Sitting up, she reaches for her glasses on the nightstand and slides them onto her face, the world snapping into focus. The blanket slips from her shoulders, exposing her naked body to the cool air, but she doesn’t shiver. She stands, her movements deliberate, and crosses the room to the chair where you’ve draped one of your shirts.

She picks it up, the fabric soft and worn under her fingers. It’s loose on her, hanging down to mid-thigh, the hem brushing her bare skin as she adjusts it. She could’ve grabbed any shirt, but she chooses this one—the one Ning had complimented once. “I like that shirt,” she’d said, almost shyly, her catlike eyes flicking over you.

Minji smirks faintly to herself, her lips curling as she pads out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

The apartment is quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the muffled sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floor. She pulls back the curtains, inviting the soft, gray light of the cloudy morning to fill the room and spill across the kitchen counter, and sets to work. She opens the fridge, pulls out eggs, butter, and milk, and sets them on the counter. The cabinets yield bread and a frying pan.

As the pan heats, she flips on the TV mounted above the counter, more for noise than anything. The channel is set to some early-morning talk show, the kind with too much smiling and overly earnest hosts. But she doesn’t bother changing it, her attention focused on cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them into a frothy yellow mixture.

The host is interviewing someone—an author, maybe, or a psychologist. The woman’s voice carries over the gentle sizzle of butter hitting the pan.

“Sexual frustration in young people has reached an all-time high,” the woman says, her tone serious. “We’re seeing a generation that’s more disconnected from their own sexuality than ever before.”

Minji pauses, the spatula in her hand hovering over the pan as the words register. She glances at the screen, where the guest sits primly, her hands folded in her lap, speaking with clinical precision.

“Pornography, dating apps, social media—these things create a toxic environment where unattainable standards of beauty and performance are the norm,” the woman continues. “Young people are left feeling inadequate, their self-esteem eroded. They’re losing touch with the natural, messy, human nature of sex.”

Minji snorts softly, shaking her head as she flips the eggs. “Interesting topic for seven in the morning,” she mutters to herself.

Still, the words linger. She finishes the eggs, sliding them onto a plate and setting bread in the toaster. The coffee pot gurgles behind her, filling the air with its rich, familiar scent. She moves with purpose, each motion precise, controlled. It’s how she keeps the dark thoughts at bay—by filling every moment, every space, with action.

But as she spreads butter over toast and pours two cups of coffee, the woman’s voice echoes in her mind. Minji doesn’t consider herself disconnected. She knows what she wants, who she is. But there’s something about the idea of inadequacy, of being shaped by forces beyond your control, that gnaws at her.

She pushes the thought away as she carries the plates and mugs to the table, the smell of breakfast filling the apartment. She glances toward the bedroom, where you’re still asleep, and allows herself a small, fleeting smile.

—

You wake slowly, your body heavy with the warmth of the bed, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you like cobwebs. The first thing you notice is the absence of Minji. The sheets on her side are cool, and the room is quiet, but the smell of breakfast—coffee, butter, eggs—wafts in from the kitchen. It's a good sign.

You sit up, running a hand through your hair, and glance at the clock on the nightstand. It's earlier than you thought, but you don’t mind. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, you shuffle out of the bedroom, drawn by the sounds of movement and the clink of plates.

Minji is there, near the table, pouring coffee into two mugs. She’s wearing your shirt, loose and hanging off one shoulder, her hair messy from sleep but her posture calm, deliberate. She looks over her shoulder when she hears you, her glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of her nose.

“Good morning,” you say, your voice still rough with sleep as you walk up behind her and kiss her. Her lips are warm, soft, and she smiles against your mouth.

“Morning,” she murmurs, turning to face you. “Coffee?”

You nod, glancing at the plates on the table. Eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fruit. “This looks amazing. Thanks, but you didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” she says, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Consider it a little favor. A thank-you.”

“For what?”

She smirks, raising an eyebrow. “For last night.”

You laugh, leaning down to kiss her again, then take your seat at the table. She joins you. The morning feels easy, warm, the kind of domesticity you didn’t realize you wanted until now.

As you eat, the conversation flows naturally, alternating between teasing and genuine reflection about the night before.

“So,” you say, spreading butter over your toast, “how’s your finger?”

Minji glances down at her hand, flexing her fingers before carefully peeling off the band-aid. The cut is clean, small, but still raw around the edges. “Not bad,” she says, holding it up for you to see. “But there’ll probably be a scar.”

You set down your toast, reaching for her hand. She lets you take it, her fingers warm and delicate in yours. Without thinking, you lean down and kiss the tiny wound, your lips brushing against her skin lightly.

She inhales sharply, a soft, barely audible sound, but the goosebumps that ripple across her arm don’t lie. When you look up, her expression is unreadable, her eyes dark and steady on yours.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“No,” she says, shaking her head slightly.

“Good.”

The moment stretches, the air between you charged. You lean closer, your lips brushing hers once, then again, deeper this time. Her hand slides into your hair, pulling you closer, and just as the rest of the world starts to fade away, the intercom buzzes, cutting through the stillness like a blade.

You both freeze, the sound startling in the quiet morning. Minji pulls back, her brow furrowed. “Who the hell...?”

You stand, crossing the room to the intercom. Pressing the button, you lean in. “Hello?”

“Hey,” comes a familiar voice, hesitant but unmistakable. It’s Ning. “Uh, it’s me. Can I come up?”

You glance back at Minji, who is now standing, her arms crossed, her expression equal parts surprised and wary.

“It’s Ning,” you say, your tone as confused as hers.

“At this time?” Minji asks, her voice sharp but quiet.

You press the button again. “Yeah, sure. Come up.”

The intercom buzzes as Ning lets herself in, and you turn to Minji, shrugging. “I have no idea what this is about.”

Minji exhales sharply, adjusting her glasses as she leans against the counter. “Neither do I. But I guess we’re about to find out.”

The knock comes a minute later, light but insistent, and you open the door to find Ning standing there, her coat wrapped tightly around her, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She looks up at you with her usual nervous energy, her cat-like eyes darting behind you to where Minji is standing.

“Hey,” Ning says, her voice small but steady. “Am I... interrupting something?”

You hesitate, glancing back at Minji, whose expression remains carefully neutral. “Uh, no. Come in.”

She steps inside, the warmth of the apartment seems to relax her slightly.

“Hey,” she says, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her voice is soft, careful. “I hope it’s okay I came by. I was feeling... I don’t know. Weird. Lonely.”

Minji is the first to respond. “Did something happen?”

Ning shakes her head quickly, her hands gripping the straps of her purse. “No, nothing like that. I just didn’t want to be by myself.” She glances at you, her catlike eyes wide and almost pleading. “I thought maybe I could hang out here for a while? Keep you guys company.”

You and Minji exchange a glance, her eyebrows raising slightly as if to say, “What the hell is this about?”

“Of course,” you say, your voice more certain than you feel. “You’re always welcome.”

Ning takes off her coat and places it on the couch, the purse too.

The smell of breakfast seems to catch her attention, and she glances toward the kitchen. “Did I interrupt something?” she asks, her voice tinged with self-consciousness.

“Just breakfast,” Minji replies smoothly, already moving toward the stove. “Have you eaten? I can make you something.”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to bother you—” Ning starts, but Minji cuts her off with a small, easy smile.

“It’s no bother,” she says, pulling a pan from the rack with practiced efficiency. “Sit down. I’ll make you something quick.”

Ning hesitates for a moment before nodding, taking a seat at the table across from you. Her eyes flick to your plate, then back to you. “Thanks. I wasn’t really hungry earlier, but... I guess I could eat now.”

You nod, watching as Minji moves around the kitchen with her usual precision. She doesn’t even ask Ning what she wants, just starts preparing something—scrambled eggs with a little sesame oil, a slice of toast, and some sliced fruit. You can tell it’s not random; she knows exactly what Ning likes.

“So,” Ning says after a moment, looking at you with a small, nervous smile. “What are you guys doing today?”

You hesitate, glancing at Minji, who doesn’t look up from the stove. “We didn’t really make plans,” you say carefully.

“Well, I was thinking,” Ning continues, her voice growing a little more confident, “it’s been so long since the three of us did something together. Maybe we could go to the movies? Like old times?”

You blink, caught off guard by the suggestion. You’d been planning to spend the weekend with Minji, just the two of you, but you don’t want to outright refuse Ning. You glance at Minji again, who’s now plating Ning’s breakfast, her expression unreadable.

Before you can respond, Ning’s face lights up with a new idea. “Actually, better than the movies—what if we just watched something here? At your place?”

The enthusiasm in her voice is hard to ignore, and you find yourself nodding automatically. “Sure. That could work.”

Minji sets the plate in front of Ning with a small smile. “But first, eat,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. “You’ve been eating so little lately.”

Ning ducks her head slightly, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “I haven’t been that bad...”

“You have,” Minji counters lightly, sitting back down at the table. “But it’s okay. Just eat this, and then we’ll figure out what to watch.”

Ning picks up her fork, her smile growing as she takes a bite. “This is really good. Thanks, Minji.”

Minji waves off the gratitude with a small shrug, her focus shifting to her coffee. The three of you fall into an easy rhythm as Ning eats, the conversation turning to light topics—shows you’ve been watching, new restaurants you want to try. Ning seems to relax more with every bite, her earlier awkwardness fading into something closer to comfort.

But then she pauses, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looks at Minji. “Hey,” she says, her tone still casual but tinged with curiosity. “Is that... my favorite shirt of his?”

Minji glances down at the shirt she’s wearing, then back at Ning with a small, knowing smile. “Maybe. Why?”

“I love that shirt,” Ning says, her voice slightly higher now, almost pouty. “It looks so soft. Lucky you.”

“It’s just a shirt,” you say lightly, trying to diffuse whatever tension is brewing.

Ning looks at you, her expression suddenly shy. “Can I have one of your shirts?”

“What?” you ask, laughing a little. “Why?”

“Just... because,” she says, shrugging one shoulder. “I want something special. From you.”

The request is so childlike, so out of nowhere, that you’re not sure how to respond. Minji raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, her eyes flicking between you and Ning with quiet amusement.

“I mean,” you say slowly, “you can take one, I guess. Just not one of the good ones.”

Ning lights up immediately, clapping her hands together. “Really? Okay! I’ll pick something after breakfast.”

You glance at Minji, whose smirk is subtle but unmistakable. She sips her coffee, saying nothing, but the look in her eyes speaks volumes.

—

The dorm room seems to get smaller and smaller as the mess grows, cramped with the kind of lived-in clutter that comes with two girls sharing a space for years: piles of books on the desk, a forgotten hair tie looped over the edge of a lamp, shoes scattered haphazardly near the door. It works like a cycle of nature: Ning messes up, Minji cleans up. Ning messes up, Minji cleans up. (Although Minji's efforts have diminished, almost considering them in vain).

Minji stands in front of the mirror, fastening her earrings, the soft click of metal against metal the only sound besides the faint hum of the blow dryer. She’s already dressed, her black skirt snug around her waist, a cropped sweater revealing just enough of her stomach to be intriguing but not loud. Her hair, sleek and shiny, falls perfectly into place with only a few quick passes of her hand.

The plan? You and the two girls go out to dinner and then go back to your house to watch a movie (which will surely be chosen by Ning).

Behind her, the bathroom door creaks open, and Ning steps out, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, her skin still damp from the shower. Steam follows her into the room, curling around her like smoke. Her bare shoulders glisten, and her dark hair sticks in wet strands to her cheeks. She holds the towel tightly against her chest as if she’s still unsure about her own body, even after years of sharing this space with Minji.

Minji catches her reflection in the mirror and smirks faintly. “You’re going to freeze like that,” she says, turning around to look at Ning. “Dry your hair before you catch a cold.”

Ning nods, her movements tentative, and plugs in the blow dryer. The roar of the machine fills the room, and Minji returns to the mirror, adjusting her earrings, turning her head to check how they hang against her jawline.

When the blow dryer clicks off, Ning stands there, her hair still a half-tangled mess. She looks at Minji hesitantly, her hands hovering near her head as if unsure what to do next.

“Come here,” Minji says, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I’ll do it.”

Ning doesn’t hesitate. She walks over, dropping to the floor in front of Minji, sitting cross-legged. Minji picks up a wide-toothed comb from the nightstand and starts working through Ning’s hair, careful but firm. The room feels quieter now, as if the act of detangling Ning’s hair has drawn them into a bubble separate from the rest of the world.

Ning exhales softly, leaning back into Minji’s hands. “I like it when you take care of me,” she says quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the rustle of the comb through her hair.

Minji pauses for a moment, then resumes, her tone calm, matter-of-fact. “Of course. That’s what friends do.”

Ning hesitates, her hands resting on her knees, her fingers picking at the hem of her towel. “Sometimes... I wish I could be more like you. And less like me.”

Minji laughs softly, the sound light but not mocking. “You don’t want to be like me.”

“I do,” Ning insists, turning her head slightly to glance back at her. “You’re confident. Cool. You don’t let people push you around. And you’re... I don’t know. Just... you.”

Minji tilts her head, her lips curling into a small, almost secretive smile. “You think that’s all good things?”

“Yes,” Ning says firmly, her voice stronger now.

“Well,” Minji says, her hands still moving through Ning’s hair, “I wouldn’t want to be you either. You’re too sweet. Too soft. You’d make a terrible Minji.”

Ning lets out a quiet laugh, but it fades quickly. She stares at her lap, her fingers still pulling at the edge of the towel.

“You know,” Minji says after a moment, her voice quieter now, almost playful, “sometimes you remind me of a doll.”

“A doll?” Ning asks.

Minji hums softly, setting the comb down and smoothing Ning’s hair with her hands. “That's why I like taking care of you. And, you know, If you were my doll, I’d take you everywhere. Even to bed. You’d sit on the pillow next to me, and I’d never let anyone else touch you.”

Ning’s cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, her voice wavering. “You’d get tired of me.”

“No,” Minji says simply, her tone decisive. “I wouldn’t.”

After a long moment, she turns slightly, her face tilted up toward Minji’s. “After university... do you think we’ll still see each other? Or will we... you know... separate?”

Minji frowns slightly, her hands resting on Ning’s shoulders. “Why would we separate? Of course, we’ll still see each other. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Ning smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling... strange lately.”

“Strange how?” Minji asks, her tone still calm but edged with curiosity.

Ning hesitates, her gaze dropping again. “Like... like love hurts. Is that normal?”

Minji seems caught off guard. She blinks, her hands stilling on Ning’s shoulders before she leans back slightly, considering her words. “Sometimes love hurts,” she says finally, her voice softer now. “But it’s a good kind of pain. It reminds us that we’re alive.”

Ning is silent for a moment, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the towel. “It doesn’t feel good,” she says quietly.

“No,” Minji agrees, her voice low. “Not always. But that’s what makes it real.”

Minji brushes a strand of hair from Ning’s face, her touch gentle, almost reverent.

“Come on,” she says finally, her voice lighter now. “We’ll be late if you don’t get dressed.”

Ning nods, standing slowly and heading to the closet. Minji watches her for a moment, her gaze lingering before she turns back to the mirror.

—

The credits roll, and the room falls into a quiet, dim stillness. The TV screen casts a faint blue glow over the apartment, and Ning is sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. Her head rests on Minji’s lap, her hair fanning out like ink on the soft fabric of Minji’s skirt, while her legs stretch out over yours. She’s wearing her usual mismatched pajamas—striped shorts and a slightly oversized blouse—and her breathing is steady, her face slack with the kind of peace that only sleep can bring. You glance at Minji, who’s idly running her fingers through Ning’s hair, her other hand resting lightly on her own thigh. She doesn’t look at you, her gaze instead fixed somewhere past the TV, lost in thought.

“She’s out,” you whisper, your voice soft so as not to wake Ning.

Minji hums in agreement, her fingers still moving gently through Ning’s hair. “She always crashes like this when she’s comfortable.”

You nod, shifting slightly, careful not to disturb Ning’s legs on your lap. “We should move. She can sleep here.”

Minji’s hand pauses for a moment before she nods. Slowly, the two of you maneuver yourselves off the couch, trying not to jostle Ning. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her body curling in on itself as you reach for the blanket draped over the back of the couch.

You unfold it and drape it over her, tucking it gently around her shoulders. She lets out a soft sigh, her hand twitching slightly as if reaching for something in her sleep.

“She’s fine,” Minji says quietly, her voice almost absent as she watches Ning for a moment longer. Then she turns, heading toward the bedroom.

You follow her, closing the door softly behind you. The room is dark except for the faint light spilling in from the hallway, and Minji moves with a kind of quiet efficiency, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. She pulls off her sweater next, leaving her in a simple white bra and matching panties, her movements as unselfconscious as ever.

You tug your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the chair in the corner, and sit on the edge of the bed, watching her. “She’s been acting strange lately,” you say, breaking the silence.

Minji glances at you over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “How so?”

“She’s... clingy,” you say, frowning slightly. “I mean, she’s always been kind of like that, but lately, it’s more. She’s always around. Always with us. Even at weird times.”

Minji turns back to the dresser, rummaging for something before straightening up. “That’s normal,” she says simply.

“Normal?” you repeat, your brow furrowing. “How do you know?”

“I know Ning,” Minji says, her voice calm, measured. “This is just a phase.”

You shake your head, leaning back slightly. “I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but... it’s too much. I mean, I like Ning. She's my friend, and sometimes she's like a little sister to me. But she’s everywhere. And it feels like she doesn’t even realize how... weird it is.”

Minji sits on the edge of the bed, her back to you. She stretches her arms above her head before turning to face you, her legs crossed under her. “It’s both,” she says.

“Both what?”

“On purpose and unintentional,” she replies.

You stare at her, more confused than ever. “What does that even mean?”

Minji tilts her head slightly, her hair spilling over one shoulder. “It means she doesn’t fully understand why she’s doing it. But part of her does. Part of her knows exactly what she wants.”

You shake your head again, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t get it. You make it sound like some... elaborate plan.”

“It’s not a plan,” Minji says. “It’s instinct. She’s shedding her skin.”

That stops you. You blink at her, trying to make sense of the metaphor. “Shedding her skin?”

Minji smiles faintly, leaning forward slightly. “Like a snake. She’s outgrowing herself. She doesn’t know what’s next, but she knows she can’t stay the same. And it’s messy. Confusing. For her and for everyone else.”

You shake your head again, feeling like you’re missing some crucial piece of the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”

“We don't need to understand everything,” Minji says simply, standing and walking toward you.

She climbs onto your lap, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders, her body warm and familiar against yours. “She just wants love,” she says. “That’s all anyone wants. What’s wrong with giving it to her, until she learns to find it for herself?”

You stare at her, your hands resting on her hips, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond.

“Minji...”

She shakes her head, silencing you with a small smile. “It’s okay,” she says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s not forever. Just for now.”

And somehow, that’s enough to quiet the unease in your chest, at least for tonight.

—

Ning stirs awake, the sunlight filtering through the blinds cutting across the living room. She groans softly, the weight of sleep still heavy on her as she stretches out on the couch. The blanket you’d thrown over her the night before slides down, pooling at her waist as she blinks groggily at the room.

She sits up, yawning hard enough that her jaw cracks, and rubs at her eyes, her hand raking through her messy hair. The TV is off now, but the faint echo of the movies you binged together still lingers in the back of her mind. She smiles sleepily, recalling the way you’d teased her about falling asleep halfway through the second one.

Her bladder nudges her out of the haze, and she stands, her bare feet padding softly across the floor. She heads to the bathroom, her movements slow, unhurried, the quiet stillness of the morning lulling her into a half-awake stupor.

Inside, she flips on the light, squinting slightly at the brightness, and shuffles over to the toilet. She tugs her loose shorts down her hips, settling onto the seat with a sigh of relief as the sound of her peeing fills the small space. Her head tilts back slightly, her body relaxing as the last remnants of sleep start to ebb away.

When she's done, she lazily reaches for some toilet paper, tearing off a few squares and carefully wiping herself, the paper crinkling softly in her hand. She gives a quick glance to make sure she’s clean before tossing it in the toilet and standing up.

The loud whoosh of water startling her slightly. Still on autopilot, she moves to the sink, turning the tap on and letting the water run cool before washing her hands. The soap smells faintly of citrus, and she rubs it into her skin, rinsing and drying off quickly.

She leans against the sink, staring at her reflection for a moment, her fingers brushing over her slightly puffy face. She frowns at the bags under her eyes, then cups her hands under the water to splash her face, the cold shock waking her up a little more.

Grabbing a toothbrush from the cup on the counter, she squeezes a line of minty toothpaste onto the bristles and starts brushing, the rhythm of it almost mechanical. She looks at Minji's toothbrush and yours and for a moment thinks about how it looks like a dystopian domestic scene. Her thoughts wander, drifting back to the conversation from last night, the easy laughter, the way you’d tossed popcorn at her when she said something smart. Or when Minji stroked her hair until she fell asleep. She smiles faintly around the toothbrush, rinses, and spits, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

As she leaves the bathroom, the quiet of the apartment feels different now—less serene, more alive somehow. Her footsteps slow as she makes her way back to the living room, a faint murmur catching her attention.

She pauses, tilting her head, her brows furrowing. The sound is faint, indistinct, but it’s coming from your room. She takes a step closer, curiosity tugging at her as her ears strain to make out the words.

The murmur becomes clearer as she approaches, her heartbeat quickening. She shouldn’t eavesdrop, she knows that, but something about the tone—the soft giggles, the whispered urgency—pulls her in.

When she reaches your door, she hesitates, her hand hovering near the handle. The murmur continues, and a thrill of something she can’t quite name runs down her spine. Slowly, carefully, she crouches down, her knees brushing against the carpet, and leans in to peek through the keyhole.

Her breath catches in her throat as her gaze sharpens on the scene inside. You’re there, standing next to your bed, your hands sliding up Minji’s thighs. Minji’s back is arched slightly, her nipples hardened by the cold, arousal and risk, her head tilted back, her hands gripping your shoulders as she lets out a breathless laugh.

“We need to be quick,” you mutter, your voice low but playful, your fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. The delicate white lace slides down her hips as she bites her lip, her eyes flicking toward the door. “Before Ning wakes up.”

Ning freezes, her heart pounding in her chest as the words sink in.

Ning’s breath hitches, her heart hammering in her chest as she presses her eye closer to the keyhole. The angle isn’t perfect, but she can see enough. You’re on your knees now, your hands gripping Minji’s thighs, spreading her legs as you bury your face between them.

Minji’s fingers tangle in your hair, her knuckles whitening as she fights to keep her composure. Her lips part, and Ning can barely make out the soft, desperate moans that slip past them, muffled by the hand she brings up to cover her mouth.

“Fuck,” Minji whispers, her voice trembling as her head falls back, her hips jerking slightly against your mouth. “You’re—ah—you’re so fucking good at this.”

From Ning’s perspective, it’s almost surreal. Minji’s bare skin gleams in the soft light of the room, her body shivering as your hands roam her thighs, your grip firm and possessive. The wet, obscene sounds of your mouth working on her pussy carry through the quiet, and Ning’s thighs press together instinctively, her body reacting without permission.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her breathing shallow as she keeps watching, her cheeks heating as she realizes how wet she’s getting just from the scene unfolding before her.

Minji bites her fist, her other hand gripping your shoulder for balance as you suck on her clit, your tongue flicking over it with deliberate, relentless precision. “Oh, God,” she gasps, her voice still quiet but shaky. “Right there—fuck, don’t stop.”

You don’t. If anything, your movements grow hungrier, more focused, your hands sliding up to grip her ass and pull her closer to your face. Minji’s knees tremble, her body swaying slightly, and Ning can see the tension in her muscles, the way her chest heaves as she tries to suppress her cries.

“Please,” Minji whispers, her voice breaking, her hips grinding against your mouth. “Please—don’t make me scream. Ning—oh, fuck—Ning’s right out there.”

Your laugh is muffled, the sound vibrating against her, and Minji’s response is immediate—a sharp, shuddering gasp that has her nearly collapsing into your arms. “You’re such an asshole,” she hisses, but there’s no heat in her words, just breathless, desperate need.

Ning’s hand slips between her own thighs without her even thinking, her fingers brushing over the damp fabric of her shorts. She curses softly under her breath, her cheeks burning as she realizes how turned on she is. Her fingers press down lightly, teasing herself through the material as she watches you work, her breath catching every time Minji lets out another muffled moan.

“God, you’re gonna make me—” Minji gasps, her nails digging into your shoulder. “I can’t—I can’t stay quiet—”

Your hands tighten on her ass, holding her in place as your tongue moves faster, the wet, lewd sounds of your mouth against her pussy growing louder. Minji’s body trembles, her legs nearly giving out as she fights to hold herself together, her cries growing more desperate despite her best efforts.

And all the while, Ning watches, her fingers pressing harder against herself, her body trembling as arousal coils tight in her stomach. She knows she should stop—knows she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching—but she can’t tear her gaze away.

Your tongue works Minji’s clit relentlessly, swirling, flicking, sucking with a precision that has her trembling against you. Her legs are unsteady, her grip in your hair tightening as you lap at her pussy, your face buried in her heat. The wet sounds of your mouth on her, combined with her quiet, gasping moans, fill the room.

“Fuck—fuck,” Minji whispers, her voice barely controlled as she tries to keep her cries quiet. “You’re gonna make me cum, you asshole—I’m so close—”

You don’t let up, doubling down as your lips close around her clit, sucking hard and then flicking your tongue rapidly over the sensitive bud. Her whole body jerks, her thighs squeezing your head as she bites her fist to muffle the scream that’s building in her throat.

Ning watches through the keyhole, her heart racing, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Her fingers press harder against herself, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. She shouldn’t be watching this—she knows that. But watching you make Minji cum, watching the way you dominate her with your mouth, is more than she can resist.

Minji’s body locks up suddenly, her breath catching as her orgasm crashes over her. Her nails dig into your scalp, her hips bucking against your mouth as she lets out a muffled cry, her legs shaking as she tries to keep standing. You don’t pull away, your tongue and lips drawing out every last wave of pleasure until she’s practically collapsing into your arms.

“Fuck,” Minji gasps, her voice weak, her body trembling as she clings to you. “I’m done—I’m so fucking done—”

But you’re not. You guide her toward the bed, gently lowering her onto her knees, her arms bracing against the mattress as she pants for breath. “I know you can handle more, on all fours for me,” you tell her, your voice rough with hunger.

Minji obeys without hesitation, her knees sinking into the mattress as she shifts into position. You stand behind her, your hands hooking into the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down. Your cock springs free, thick, hard, and glistening with need, and for a moment, the room seems to pause.

Ning stifles a gasp, her eyes widening as she stares through the keyhole, her breath catching in her throat. She’d imagined it before—fantasized about what you might look like, what you might feel like—but nothing had prepared her for the reality. It’s almost too much, seeing you like this, seeing the cock she’s dreamed about so vividly right there in front of her, but not for her.

You stroke yourself slowly, your eyes fixed on Minji’s ass, the curve of her back, the way she looks so perfectly ready for you. “I’ll grab a condom,” you mutter, your voice rough, your tone almost detached as you try to keep control.

Minji glances back at you, her eyes hazy with lust. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t care. Just fuck me now—I need you inside me.”

Her words resonate with Ning. She can feel the heat pooling between her legs, the ache of desire building to an unbearable level. Before she even realizes what she’s doing, she’s tugging her shorts and panties down her thighs, her fingers slipping between her slick folds as she watches you climb onto the bed behind Minji.

You line yourself up with Minji’s entrance, your hands gripping her hips as you press the head of your cock against her wet, swollen pussy. She lets out a shuddering breath, her body trembling with anticipation, and then you’re inside her, sliding deep with one smooth, deliberate thrust.

“Goddamn,” you groan, your head tilting back as you bury yourself to the hilt. “You’re so fucking tight, Minji. So goddamn perfect.”

Minji cries out, her hands gripping the sheets as she adjusts to your size. “Fuck,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “You feel—shit—you’re so deep—”

Ning’s fingers work faster, her hips lifting slightly as she rubs her clit in tight, desperate circles. Her other hand grips her thigh, her eyes locked on the scene in front of her, her breath catching every time you thrust into Minji. She’s wet, so wet, her fingers sliding easily as she imagines it’s her on the bed instead, her body stretched and filled by you.

“Harder,” Minji begs, her voice muffled against the mattress. “Please—fuck me harder—”

You don’t hesitate, your hips slamming against her ass with a rhythm that’s rough, relentless, each thrust driving you deeper. Minji’s moans grow louder, less controlled, and Ning bites her lip to keep from crying out herself as she watches your cock disappear into Minji’s tight, glistening pussy over and over again.

“Look at you,” you growl, your hands tightening on Minji’s hips. “Taking me so fucking well. You love this, don’t you? Love being fucked like this?”

“Yes,” Minji cries, her voice cracking as her body rocks with every thrust. “Yes—don’t stop—please, don’t stop—”

Ning’s breath hitches, her fingers sliding faster, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge. She’s so close, the sight of you fucking Minji, the sound of your groans and her cries, pushing her to the brink. She bites down hard on her lip, her eyes squeezed shut as she imagines what it would feel like to have you inside her instead.

This makes her go beyond reason, her body moving on instinct, completely overtaken by the scene playing out in front of her. Her fingers, already slick with her arousal, slide down to her dripping entrance, and before she can second-guess herself, she pushes two fingers inside.

The sensation is electric, her walls clenching around her fingers as she starts thrusting in time with your movements, mirroring the rhythm of your cock driving into Minji. Her other hand remains pressed to her mouth, trying to stifle the quiet, breathy moans that spill out as she fucks herself.

On the other side of the door, you’re relentless, your hips slamming into Minji with a force that makes her cry out, her voice muffled against the mattress. “God, Minji,” you growl, your tone dripping with dominance. “You’re so fucking wet, squeezing me so tight. You love being my little slut, don’t you?”

Ning’s eyes flutter shut, her fingers curling inside her as if you’re the one filling her up. “Yes,” she whispers, barely audible, her voice shaky and desperate. Her fingers move faster, her thumb brushing over her swollen clit, and she can’t stop herself from whispering again. “Yes, I love it—I love being yours.”

Your voice cuts through the door again, rough and commanding. “Say it, Minji. Say how much you love being fucked like this, how much you need my cock.”

Ning's head leans against the door, her lips parting as her fingers drive deeper, the wet sounds of her own arousal mingling with the lewd noises from the other room. She’s lost, caught up in the fantasy, responding as if the words were meant for her.

“I need it,” Ning murmurs, her hips rocking against her hand. “Fuck, I need you so bad—”

Inside the room, Minji’s voice rises, a high-pitched, breathless cry. “Yes, I need it—I need your cock so bad—don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

Ning matches the rhythm of her fingers to the frantic pace of your thrusts, her knees trembling as she pushes herself closer to the edge. Her juices drip down her thighs, her clit throbbing under the relentless assault of her thumb. She’s mumbling now, her words incoherent, her body shaking as she chases the pleasure building inside her.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice trembling as her fingers curl inside her, brushing that spot that makes her legs weak. “So deep, baby—feels so good—oh, my God—”

You grunt loudly, your hands gripping Minji’s hips tighter, pulling her back against you with every thrust. “You’re fucking perfect, Minji,” you growl, your voice rough. “Taking me so fucking well—like you were made for this.”

Ning can’t hold back her response, her whispered voice growing louder despite herself. “Yes—I was—I was made for this,” she mutters, her breath hitching as her fingers slam into her wet pussy. “Fuck me harder—please—don’t stop—”

Her words blur into soft moans and gasps, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge of release. Her eyes are glued to the keyhole, watching the way your cock disappears into Minji’s pussy, the way Minji’s body arches with every thrust. It’s too much, the visual, the sounds, the fantasy she’s building in her head—all of it pushes her closer, her fingers working furiously as she chases the same pleasure Minji is drowning in.

“Fuck,” she gasps, her voice breaking as her fingers curl again, her body arching off the floor. “I’m so close—oh, my God, I’m gonna—”

But she doesn’t let herself finish, biting down hard on her lip to keep herself from crying out. She’s too lost, too far gone, completely consumed by the rhythm of your thrusts, the sound of Minji’s cries, the fantasy of being in her place.

You slow your thrusts, pulling out of Minji for just a moment, earning a frustrated whimper from her as you guide her toward the edge of the bed. Sitting down, your cock slick and throbbing, you grab her hips, pulling her onto your lap.

Minji straddles you, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your legs. Her chest brushes against yours as she lowers herself, your cock sliding back inside her in one smooth motion. She lets out a shaky gasp, her fingers gripping your shoulders as she settles into the position, her tight pussy squeezing you in all the right ways.

“Ride me,” you murmur, your hands gripping her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Show me how much you love this cock, Minji.”

Her lips curl into a wicked smile, her hips starting to move in slow, deliberate circles. Her pace is teasing at first, her heat clenching around you as she adjusts to the angle. Her chest presses against yours, her nipples brushing your skin, and you can’t resist leaning forward to capture one of her breasts in your mouth.

Your tongue flicks over her hardened nipple, your lips closing around the sensitive bud as you suck greedily. Minji moans above you, her nails digging into your shoulders as she starts to bounce on your lap, her movements growing more erratic, more desperate.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she gasps, her voice trembling. “I love your cock—I love the way it fills me, stretches me—God, I can’t get enough.”

Ning’s breath catches as she watches through the keyhole, her own hand moving instinctively to her breast. Her fingers slip under her tank top, squeezing the soft flesh as her thumb brushes over her nipple. Her other hand is still buried between her legs, her fingers glistening with her arousal as she thrusts them in and out, imagining it’s your cock instead.

“Yes,” she whispers softly to herself, her cheeks flushed as her hips rock against her hand. “I love it too—I love the way it feels—”

Your mouth moves to Minji’s other breast, your tongue swirling around her nipple before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Her back arches, her cries growing louder, her hips slamming against yours with an urgency that drives you wild.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you growl against her skin, your hands sliding up to grip her waist, helping guide her movements. “The way you ride me, Minji—fuck—you’re perfect.”

“God, yes,” she moans, her head tilting back as she grinds down on you, her pace frantic. “You make me feel so good—so fucking good—I never want to stop.”

Ning’s thighs tremble as she matches her rhythm to Minji’s, her fingers curling inside her, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. She squeezes her breast harder, her thumb flicking over her nipple as she imagines it’s your mouth on her, your hands gripping her body, your cock buried deep inside her.

“I need you,” Ning whispers, her voice barely audible but filled with raw need. “Fuck, I need you so bad—I’d ride you just like that—I’d make you feel so good, baby—”

Inside, Minji’s cries grow louder, her hips slamming down on you with a force that makes the bed creak. Her hair sticks to her damp skin, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as she moans your name over and over again.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you rasp, your grip on her waist tightening as you thrust up into her, meeting her movements. “You take me so fucking well, Minji. You’re perfect—so fucking perfect.”

“Yes—fuck—yes,” Minji moans, her nails raking down your chest. “I love it—I love your cock—I love the way you fuck me—”

Ning’s own voice joins hers, a soft, breathy murmur as her body shakes with pleasure. “I love it too—I love it—I’d take you so well,” she whispers, her words blending with the sounds of your thrusts, the wet, obscene noises filling the room.

Her hips rock harder, her fingers plunging deeper as she imagines you looking at her the way you look at Minji, your hands on her, your cock filling her completely. She’s on the edge, teetering between reality and fantasy, her entire body trembling as she chases the release building inside her.

You grip Minji’s waist tighter, your breath coming in ragged gasps as her movements grow faster, more erratic. The tight, wet heat of her pussy has you on the edge, your cock twitching inside her as your body threatens to lose control.

“Fuck, Minji,” you groan, your head falling back as she rides you harder, her hips slamming down with a desperate rhythm. “You’re gonna make me cum—God, you’re gonna fucking make me cum.”

Her nails dig into your shoulders as her moans mix with yours, her face flushed, her lips parted. “Me too,” she gasps, her voice trembling. “I’m so close—I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna fucking cum, too.”

You grip her ass, pulling her closer as you thrust up into her, your words spilling out in a rush. “Where do you want it, baby? Tell me where you want my cum.”

Her eyes lock on yours, filled with wild lust. “On my tits,” she says, her voice cracking with need. “I want it all over my tits.”

The words send a jolt of heat through you, and Minji’s body responds, her pace growing frantic as she bounces on your cock, trying to hold back the screams threatening to burst from her lips. Her hips jerk, her thighs trembling, and then she’s cumming—hard.

Her back arches, her nails scraping down your chest as her pussy clenches around you in tight, rhythmic spasms. “Oh, fuck—fuck—” she cries, her head tilting back, her eyes rolling as waves of pleasure crash through her.

Ning’s fingers falter for a moment as she watches through the keyhole, her breath hitching at the sight of Minji’s orgasm. The way her body shakes, the sheer rawness of it, sends a fresh wave of arousal through Ning’s already trembling body. She bites her lip, her own fingers slick with her juices as she thrusts them deeper, chasing the same release.

Minji’s hips slow, her movements languid as she comes down from her high, her breath ragged as she whispers, “Please—I need your cum—I need it so bad.”

You growl low in your throat, gently lifting her off your cock and guiding her to lie back on the bed. Her chest rises and falls, her skin flushed, her eyes hazy with lust as she looks up at you.

You climb over her, your hand wrapping around your cock, stroking it slowly as you hover above her. Minji’s lips curl into a wicked smile, her voice soft but dripping with urgency. “Give it to me,” she whispers, her hands sliding over her own body, cupping her breasts and squeezing them together. “I want it all—cover me in it. Please, baby, cum for me.”

Ning’s breath comes in shallow gasps as she mirrors Minji’s words, her voice barely audible as she whispers, “Cum for me—please, I need it—I need you.” Her fingers pump in and out of her dripping pussy, her other hand teasing her breast, pinching her nipple as she imagines being in Minji’s place.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan, your hand moving faster as you watch Minji writhing beneath you, her words driving you closer to the edge. “You’re gonna get it—all of it. You ready?”

“Yes,” Minji moans, her eyes locking on your cock. “Yes, I’m ready—give it to me, please.”

The tension snaps, and with a deep, guttural moan, you let go. Hot spurts of cum shoot out, painting Minji’s chest and dripping down her cleavage as she gasps with each pulse. “Fuck, yes,” she cries, her hands smearing the thick, warm fluid over her skin. “God, there’s so much—”

Ning’s body arches, her fingers thrusting deep as she watches your release, the sight of you cumming and Minji’s reaction sending her spiraling. “Oh, God,” Ning whispers, her breath catching as her own orgasm crashes over her. Her thighs tremble, her hips bucking against her hand as pleasure floods her senses, leaving her shaking and gasping for air.

Back in your room, Minji reaches up, her hand wrapping around your cock as she guides the tip to her lips. She sucks greedily, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head, and you let out a shuddering groan, the overstimulation almost too much to bear.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your body trembling as she cleans you off, her mouth working over you with slow, deliberate precision.

In the hallway, Ning slumps against the wall, her body still trembling from her climax. Reality crashes back in, her cheeks burning as she realizes what she’s done. Her fingers are sticky with her own juices, her shorts and panties pushed down around her ankles. She feels the ache of her release, but also the heavy weight of knowing she’s still alone, left only with the echo of her own mind.

—

The kitchen is quiet except for the clink of forks against plates and the faint hum of the coffee machine. Breakfast is simple—scrambled eggs, toast, a little fruit—because none of you had energy for anything more elaborate after the intense morning sex. You and Minji sit side by side, her hand occasionally brushing yours under the table, while Ning sits across from you, her posture slightly hunched, her head down as she picks at her food.

You and Minji exchange a glance, subtle but questioning.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask finally, your voice cutting through the silence.

Ning looks up briefly, her eyes darting between you and Minji before settling back on her plate. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “The couch was fine.”

“Are you sure?” you press, trying to read her expression. “If it wasn’t comfortable, you could’ve said something.”

She shakes her head quickly, her fingers tightening around her fork. “No, it was fine. Really.”

Minji leans back slightly, her dark eyes studying Ning with a precision that always feels a little too sharp. “You seem... off,” she says, her tone light but probing. “Nervous, almost.”

Ning’s shoulders stiffen slightly, but she forces a small smile. “It’s just... college stuff,” she says, her voice a little too quick, too rehearsed. “You know how it is.”

Minji hums softly, her gaze lingering on Ning for a moment longer before she nods. “Yeah. I get it. Stress gets to everyone.”

There’s a pause, the silence stretching out again as Ning takes a small bite of her toast, her movements mechanical. You glance at Minji, who shrugs subtly, as if to say, “Leave it alone.”

You’re not sure why the mood feels so strange. You’re satisfied—more than satisfied, really—after the slow, sleepy morning you spent with Minji. But Ning’s tension casts a shadow over everything, and you can’t help but feel like there’s something you’re missing.

“Anything specific?” Minji asks suddenly. “With college, I mean. Anything you’re struggling with?”

Ning’s head snaps up, her expression briefly startled before she smooths it out. “No. Nothing like that. Just... the usual. Assignments, deadlines. It’s fine.”

“You know you can talk to us, right?” you say, trying to sound reassuring.

“I know,” Ning says quickly, her voice tight. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

Minji doesn’t push further, instead picking up her coffee cup and taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Ning. It’s a look you’ve seen before—the way she dissects people without them realizing, pulling apart their words, their body language, their silences… You wonder if she knows something you don’t.

“Okay,” Minji says finally, setting her cup down. “But if it ever does become a big deal, you know where we are.”

“Thanks,” Ning murmurs, her smile faint but grateful.

The conversation fizzles out after that, and the rest of breakfast passes in strained silence. Ning keeps her head down, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank top, while you and Minji exchange the occasional glance, unsure how to bridge the gap.

When Ning finally stands to clear her plate, you notice the way her hands shake slightly, the way she avoids looking at either of you. Minji notices too—you can tell by the faint narrowing of her eyes, the slight tilt of her head. But she doesn’t say anything.

—

The sun hangs high in the sky, its warmth spilling over the quiet streets as Minji and Ning walk side by side. The air smells faintly of spring—cut grass, blooming flowers, the faint musk of pavement warmed by sunlight. It’s the kind of day that makes you forget there’s still homework to finish, lectures to catch up on, deadlines looming like dark clouds in the distance.

Minji is wearing her usual glasses, her stride confident, her shoulder purse slung loosely over one arm. Ning is quieter, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her skirt, her pace a little slower. The two of them have walked this route several times, but today, the silence between them feels heavier, more intentional.

Ning is the one who breaks it. “How are you?” she asks, glancing sideways at Minji.

Minji doesn’t falter, but the question surprises her. She tilts her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “I’m fine,” she says. “Why?”

Ning shrugs, her gaze fixed on the sidewalk ahead. “Just asking.”

Minji hums softly, unconvinced. “I’m fine,” she repeats, her tone a little firmer now. “Really.”

Ning hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “I meant... how’s your heart?”

Minji slows, her glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of her nose as she turns to look at Ning. It’s always a complicated question (even if she pretends it isn't), one she’s learned to deflect with ease. But Ning’s tone—gentle, almost hesitant—makes it harder to brush off.

“It’s fine,” Minji says finally, her voice even. “Everything’s fine.”

Ning doesn’t push, at least not directly. Instead, she pretends to shift the conversation. “Are you and him having sex?”

Minji stops walking, blinking at Ning like she’s just been hit with a bucket of cold water. “What?”

“You heard me,” Ning says, her voice steady but her expression unreadable.

Minji stares at her for a moment before she starts walking again, her steps a little quicker now. “Yes,” she says finally, the word clipped, like she’s trying to end the conversation before it starts.

“How’s it been?” Ning asks, keeping pace with her.

Minji’s jaw tightens. “Good. Very good.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Ning says. “I mean... is it too much? For you, I mean. With your condition...”

Minji’s steps falter, just barely, but she recovers quickly. “No,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends. “He’s... gentle. Respectful. He knows my boundaries.”

Ning nods slowly, as if considering her words. “I know you took the medicine,” she says suddenly, her voice quiet but firm.

Minji freezes. “What?”

“Your medicine,” Ning repeats, stopping to face her. “You took it. I know you did.”

“That’s not true,” Minji says, her voice flat.

“It is,” Ning says, crossing her arms. “Before we left for the restaurant yesterday, the bottle was sealed. This morning, when I saw it in your purse, it was open.”

Minji’s mouth opens, then closes, her mind scrambling for a response. “Why are you going through my purse?” she demands finally, her tone defensive.

“You told me I could borrow your lipstick,” Ning says simply.

Minji stares at her, caught off guard by the straightforwardness of her answer. For a moment, she doesn’t know what to say. Then she exhales sharply, tugging her glasses off and running a hand through her hair before putting them back on. “Fine,” she says, her voice quieter now. “I took it. After... after we had sex.”

Ning’s brows knit together, her tone growing sharper. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Minji says, brushing past her and continuing down the sidewalk.

“Not a big deal?” Ning echoes, catching up to her. “Minji, your heart hurts so much you need medicine, and you think that’s not a big deal?”

Minji stops again, turning to face her. “I said I’m fine.”

“You’re lying,” Ning says bluntly, her voice rising slightly. “You’re putting your health at risk, and for what? To prove that you can handle it? That’s not fair, Minji. To him or to you.”

Minji’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t respond. She can feel the heat rising in her chest—not from her heart this time, but from the frustration of being called out, of having someone see through her so easily.

“You need to tell him,” Ning says firmly, her voice steady despite the tension between them. “If you don’t, I will.”

Minji stares at her, her lips parted slightly in shock. Ning’s tone, her posture, the unwavering determination in her expression—it’s not the Ning she’s used to. It’s... impressive, in a way. “Fine,” Minji says finally, her voice softer now, almost grudging. “I’ll tell him.”

“Good,” Ning says, her expression softening slightly. They start walking again, the tension easing but not disappearing entirely. Minji glances at Ning out of the corner of her eye, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. “You’re full of surprises,” she says quietly.

Ning doesn’t look at her, but there’s a faint flush on her cheeks. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” she murmurs.

The words hang in the air between them, heavier than the warm sunlight, and the ambivalence of feelings silently settles in Minji, something without its own identification. Gratitude, maybe. Pride. Love. Or something else entirely.

For Ning, the moment is different. Seeing Minji vulnerable—seeing her imperfect—fills her with something that feels almost like relief. Minji isn’t untouchable, after all. And somehow, that thought is comforting.

Continued in part 4...

#kpop m!reader #minji x reader #minji newjeans #minji smut #kpop male oc #newjeans smut #ningning smut #aespa ningning #ning yizhuo #ning yizhuo smut #aespa ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #kpop angst #kpop male reader #angst and smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days ago

Text

Flag V

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: You meet the Arsenal girls for the first time

"Did you hear that Fleming from Chelsea just adopted a kid?" Leah says as she sits down at breakfast one day after the international break.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, Millie told me," She continues," Apparently, she'd been fostering this little girl for a while and none of the team knew."

"It's crazy," Beth agrees," It'd be like if me and Viv adopted a baby and none of you knew about. Just like came into training one day like, here they are."

"Adopting is really rewarding," Frida says absentmindedly, reaching for some of the jam across the table," Maybe Fleming just wanted to get used to it. It's a whole new situation to get used to, trust me."

"Alright Frida," Leah laughs, clapping her on the back," But I think adopting a dog is different to adopting a baby."

Frida frowns. "Yeah, I know. What did you think I was talking about?"

"You and your girlfriend's dog? Is that not what we're talking about?"

"I meant our daughter. Why would you think I meant our Jordan?"

"Your...Your daughter?"

"My daughter, yes," Frida says," Y/n."

"You...You have a daughter."

"Yes...Leah, are you okay? You look a little pale..."

"You..She...Frida, did you Fleming us?! How is this the first time I'm hearing of this baby of yours?"

Frida frowns. "I mean, she's not really much of a baby anymore. She's in that phase of trying to climb everything. Emma has to keep such a close eye on her."

"Can we see pictures?" Lia, who up until this point has remained silent, asks.

"Blimey," Leah whistles," And you're sure she's adopted? Frida, she looks just like you!"

"Really?" Frida studies the picture she selected of you, one of you cuddled up against Emma's body in your soft, linen dress and a flower crown on your head. "I think she looks more like Emma."

"You have to bring her to a game," Beth insists," She's able to travel right? Like she's got a passport and stuff?"

"I guess I can ask Emma to bring her," Frida says," But I don't see what the big deal is? I'm sure I've spoken about her before."

But apparently not because word spreads quickly through the whole team who all insist that they've got no recollection of Frida ever even mentioning you before.

Which, of course, means everyone insists on meeting you so here Frida is, waiting at arrivals for Emma to walk out of baggage claim.

She catches sight of the pram first where you're fast asleep, gripping tightly to whatever toy you've selected from your collection to join you on the journey.

Emma comes into view next, expertly wheeling the suitcase in one hand and the pram in the other.

"Hi," Frida says, a little breathless that you're finally both here," I missed you. Both of you."

Emma draws her into a soft kiss. "We missed you too. Isn't that right, squish?"

"Missed Mama," You slur, only now waking up.

"She slept the entire way," Emma explain as Frida straps you into the car seat," She didn't sleep much last night. She was too excited."

Frida laughs. "I hope she sleeps tonight as well."

"She will," Emma assures her," But I think we're going to have to deal with that little visitor in bed."

Emma's right, of course, because in the middle of the night, Frida feels you slot between them as you wiggle under the covers. But she gets her wish as well as you sleep through the rest of the night in their bed and rise the next day with all the excitement you can fit into your little body.

"Are you sure you're okay with taking her today?" Emma asks," I can keep her while I do my shopping."

"I've got her," Frida insists, adjusting you on her hip," The girls are excited to meet her. You get your shopping done."

"Alright," Emma finally agrees," I love you guys."

"Love you too. Squish, tell Mummy you love her."

"Love you!" You parrot back as Emma drives off.

"Alright," Frida says," Let's get you ready to meet everyone."

It's not the first time Frida's seen you in her Arsenal shirt before but it's the first time everyone else will.

Your life is in Sweden most of the time and then in Norway too when you visit Frida's parents. This is your first time in England and Emma made sure you were suitably dressed for the occasion.

"Oh my god," Leah says," Look at the cheeks on her!"

You giggle as a finger reaches out to poke them like your mummies do when you're being particularly cute.

"A good eater then?" Kim asks as everyone fawns over you.

You soak up all the attention, especially when wrapped gifts are presented to you teasingly.

"We had issues at first," Frida admits," She was underweight when we found her but she's a good weight now."

"She looks so content," Kim says," Motherhood suits you, Frida."

"Really?"

"Definitely. I can tell she just adores you."

"Mama!" You say suddenly, shaking a wrapped box in curiosity," Help, please?"

"How about we find a table and then we can open all your new presents?"

The team have really spoiled you - clearly trying to make up for missed birthdays and Christmases - and you seem just so excited for every gift you unwrap.

"Got to give her the full kit," Leah says with a wink as yet another presents contains an Arsenal kit.

"She has the kit at home."

"Yeah but this one has her name on it. If Fleming's daughter has a Chelsea kit with her name then the Arsenal children must have Arsenal kits with their names on it too!"

"Children?"

Leah jerks her chin over to where Beth and Viv sit with you on the floor as you show off one of your new toys.

"You should have seen Beth's face light up when you spoke about adopting. She looked interested. I guarantee those two will be thinking about it at some point soon. Might as well set the precedent now."

"I will make sure she wears it to the match," Frida promises just as you get up and toddle over.

"Mama!" You say," You see my new puppy? Looks like our Jordan!"

Frida smiles as she lifts you up onto her lap. "You know what? It does!"

"I call him little Jordan!"

"That's a perfect name, squish."

#woso x reader #frida maanum x reader #frida maanum #emma lennartsson x reader #emma lennartsson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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4linos · 2 days ago

Text

they call you clingy pt. 2

ot8 x fem!reader

genre: slight angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. (mostly) happy endings.

wc: 8916

(read they call you clingy pt. 1 first)

bang chan

When Chan returned home later that night, he was overwhelmed with guilt. He expected to be greeted with a warm embrace, maybe even a soft joke about how awkward he had been earlier. But when he entered your shared bedroom, he was greeted with silence. The lights were dark, and you sat on the edge of the bed, back to him. "Y/N?" He called out quietly, almost pleading.

You did not respond.

Chan's heart fell as he got closer, but you flinched when you felt him behind you. He stood there for a while, unsure of what to do, before finally speaking, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said. It was a terrible joke. Please… please look at me.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were red and swollen, and your expression was tight, like you were holding everything in. The sight broke him, and he stepped forward, kneeling in front of you, trying to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I was frustrated, and I let it all out in the worst way. I’m so sorry, I should’ve never said that. You’re not clingy. I don’t think that at all. I was wrong. I never should’ve made you feel that way.”

You shook your head slowly, your voice cold. “No, you meant it. I heard the way you said it. You don’t want me around. You think I’m suffocating you.”

“I don’t,” Chan whispered urgently, his hands reaching out to touch yours, but you pulled them away. “I don’t think that. I swear. I don’t want you to think that at all. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

But you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to believe him, but the words still stung too much. The way he had looked at you with indifference, how he dismissed your presence like it was something burdensome. It wasn’t just the words it was the way it made you feel so small, like you weren’t wanted.

You stood up suddenly, avoiding his touch. “I just need some space, Chan. Please. Just leave me alone tonight.”

Chan flinched, but he didn’t argue. He nodded, his heart breaking as he quietly walked out of the room. He knew he had crossed a line, and the weight of that reality hit him hard. He didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning on the couch, feeling the distance between you both like a wall that couldn’t be scaled.

The next morning, Chan woke up early, with his mind still filled with guilt. He'd apologized the night before, but he knew it wasn't enough. He needed to express how sorry he was and how much he cared. He crept quietly into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast, hoping to get it right for once. When the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the apartment, he returned to your bedroom, gently knocked on the door before opening it slightly.

You sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. Your back was still turned to him, but when you heard him enter, you had stayed still.

Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft. “I made breakfast… for us. Please, can we just eat together? I want to talk.”

You didn't say anything at first, but eventually nodded and stood up, following him into the kitchen. You both sat silently, the tension hanging between you like a cloud. Chan pushed the dish of pancakes toward you, his hands shaking slightly. He took a breath and spoke again, his voice full of earnestness.

"You were not clinging, Y/N. I was wrong. You aren't suffocating me. I adore having you around; I always do. I… I'm not sure why I said that. My frustration clouded my judgment, and I hurt you. I'm really sorry."

You didn’t answer right away, but the tightness in your chest slowly loosened. You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

You sighed softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “It just hurt, Chan. I… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’re never a burden,” he said quietly. “You’re my partner. I want you to be with me. Always. You nodded, the words finally sinking in. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “No, I deserve it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you both ate in silence, the unspoken understanding between you filling the room with a quiet comfort. The hurt was still there, but you knew you could heal it together.

lee know

The warmth from the burns on your leg persisted, but the coldness in your chest stung the most. You sat on the edge of the bed, carefully placing a cold compress against your skin, hoping that the discomfort sting would ease.

Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what had just transpired in the kitchen. Minho, your Minho, had yelled at you, and the words cut worse than anything physical could. You couldn't understand how it had come to this.

You had tried so hard to help, to lighten his burden, but instead you had made matters worse. The kitchen was a wreck, your leg was on fire, and your heart felt like it had been ripped open by the very person who had always made you feel safe. You wanted to believe it was just a moment of frustration, something that could be forgiven, but the distance between you both felt insurmountable.

When Minho’s voice called from the living room, it felt like the world’s weight pressed on your chest. “Hey... can we talk?" He sounded tired, but there was an undertone of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen.

You didn’t respond, hoping the silence would send the message you weren’t ready to face him just yet. But moments later, the sound of his footsteps in the hall brought you back to reality, and before you could register, he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom.

His expression shifted from confusion to panic when he saw you sitting there, the cold compress against your leg, and your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened, a rush of guilt flooding over him.

"What... what happened?" His voice was quieter and more uncertain now. He took a step forward, peering down at the reddening skin on your leg. "I—oh God, did you burn yourself?" His eyes scanned yours for a response, his hand quivering slightly as he reached out to touch your leg. You didn't say anything. You couldn’t find the words. The burn hurt badly, but the heaviness of his words in the kitchen made it intolerable.

Minho's hands shook as he gently led you to lie down on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His voice cracked slightly as he rubbed a cool cloth on the burns, the chill alleviating the sting slightly.

You finally let yourself to cry, tears rocking your chest and the emotional weight coming down on you. You didn't understand how much you were holding back until the tears started pouring freely. "I-I'm sorry for the soup," you said through sobbing. "I didn't mean to ruin everything. "I just... wanted to help."

Minho's face softened, expressing regret and disbelief. He wiped your tears away with his thumb, his voice barely audible. "Stop. I don't care about the soup. Not when you're hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

His words felt like a balm to your wounded heart, but they didn’t erase the ache. You buried your face in his chest as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You don’t deserve that... you never deserve that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten even more. You clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, needing his warmth, his presence. “Minho... I just—everything went wrong today. And then you... you made me feel like I was a burden.” Your voice trembled, and the weight of your emotions finally broke free.

Minho’s arms tightened around you as he whispered into your hair, “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. But you are not a burden. You never will be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You could feel his hands softly comb through your hair, comforting you as you kept crying into him. The tears weren't simply over the soup, the burn, or the day's failures. It was all about trying to keep things together, to be strong, and not show how overwhelmed you were. And everything came tumbling down in his arms. "I should have been there for you today." "I should have seen how much you were struggling," Minho said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm not upset at you. I should never have said that. I'm so sorry."

You nodded into his chest, the tears slowly subsiding as his comforting words washed over you. Despite everything, despite the mess and the hurt, there was still love between you two, even if it was lost in the chaos for a moment.

“I love you,” Minho whispered, his hand gently wiping away the last of your tears. “Please, forgive me.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but tenderness there now, no trace of the frustration that had clouded his expression before. “I love you too,” you said, your voice still shaky, but steadying. “I know you didn’t mean it. I just... I just had such a bad day. Everything went wrong, and I was just trying to fix it... and I ended up making it worse.”

Minho kissed your forehead again, his lips lingering for a moment. “You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me help you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief settle over you as his arms wrapped around you again. “I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. “I just... I wanted to help you. To make it better. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“I know,” Minho whispered back. “And you didn’t make it worse. I promise.”

As the silence between you two grew, the storm within you began to calm. It wasn't entirely mended yet, but for the first time that day, you felt like you weren't going through it alone. You felt at ease in his embrace, and you gradually began to hope that things can get better again.

changbin

Changbin's breath came out in weak, raspy gasps as he stood there watching you walk away. Every instinct in his body shouted for him to go after you, to draw you back and explain himself, but something in the air held him still. The severity of his own words resonated in his thoughts, a jarring reminder of the damage he had just done. You were hurt. And now, so was he.

He watched as your form disappeared through the exit, the door closing softly behind you. The gym suddenly felt suffocating. The weight of his own anger and frustration, which he had not yet fully comprehended, seemed to settle in his chest like a stone. He turned over, and his face flushed, his head dizzy with regret. He never wanted to make you feel like this, never wanted you to feel like a burden. His mind was spinning with confusion, but one thing was painfully clear: he had messed up. Badly.

He stood there for a long time, eyes fixed on the door, as if begging you to return, but he knew it was pointless. He had said too much. The damage was done.

You'd never felt smaller than you did at that time. Changbin's words felt like a hefty blow to the chest, knocking the air out of you. You weren't expecting him to snap. Sure, he'd been distant before, but this was different. The sharpness in his voice, the way he stared at you with irritation and anger, hurt in ways you couldn't articulate.

You didn’t know how long you had been walking for when you found yourself in the parking lot, your car now looming in front of you like a silent reminder of what had just transpired. You stood there for a moment, your hands trembling as you fumbled to unlock the door. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the chill in your chest felt much worse.

Why was he so angry?

You understood that sometimes people needed space, but you had no idea that your presence, which you expected to bring you closer, would make him feel overwhelmed. The realization hit you hard: He had been letting you to follow him about because he didn't know how to express his need for space. And, in the end, when he exploded, it broke the fragile link you had formed with him.

Your eyes stung with the promise of tears, but you pushed them away. You weren't sure if you were ready to let them fall yet.

You got in the car and drove aimlessly at first, wanting to get away and clear your mind. The drive seemed to go on forever, but you couldn't escape the agony in your chest. You eventually pulled over onto a quiet street and parked. You allowed the silence to settle in, the only sound being the faint hum of your car's engine.

Your phone buzzed, and you looked at it nervously. It was a message from Changbin. Your finger hovered over the screen, unsure whether to open it or not. But the yearning for an explanation, some attempt to make sense of it all, was overwhelming. So you opened it.

Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Can we please talk?

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning the words over and over. His apology felt sincere, but it didn’t erase the sting of what he had said. How could it? And yet, a part of you still wanted to hear him out, to understand where he was coming from, even if it hurt.

You debated texting him back. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to hold onto the distance you felt was needed right now. Another part wanted to reach out, to explain that you weren’t trying to smother him, that you just wanted to be close.

Instead of responding, you did the one thing you never thought you’d do: you called him.

The phone rang a few times before he answered. “Y/N?” His voice was soft, hesitant, almost nervous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

A long silence passed. You could hear him take a deep breath on the other end. “Yeah. I think we need to.”

Back at the gym, Changbin had barely managed to collect himself before his phone buzzed in his hand. When he saw your name on the screen, he almost couldn’t believe it. He had messed up so badly, and yet, you were still willing to talk to him. His heart beat faster as he swiped to answer, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

“Y/N?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t imagining this.

“I… I’m still upset, Bin,” you said, your voice shaky. “I don’t know what to think. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was invading your space. I just… I wanted to be close to you.”

“I know,” he whispered, guilt flooding his chest. “I should’ve told you sooner. It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel like that… like I’m pushing you away. But I just… the gym was the one place where I could just be by myself, clear my head. And when I didn’t have that anymore… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you’d like it. That maybe it would be something we could do together.”

“I do like spending time with you,” he said, his voice steady now, more sincere. “I really do. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking it out on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry for how I said it. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You’re not a burden to me, Y/N. You’re the last person I want to hurt.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “I just wanted to be close to you. I didn’t realize I was making you feel suffocated.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I know. And I should’ve communicated better. I just didn’t know how.”

“I understand,” you replied softly. “I just… I need a little time. To process this.”

Changbin’s heart sank, but he understood. “Yeah. I get that. Take the time you need. But please know I’m here. I don’t want to lose you over something that should’ve been a misunderstanding.”

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t fixed, not yet, but you could feel the tension easing a little, the sharp edges of the pain starting to soften.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk more when I’m ready.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Changbin replied, his voice full of warmth despite the distance between you. “I’ll be here.”

The call ended, leaving a quiet, uneasy space between you two. You were unsure where this would lead or what would happen next. But perhaps, just maybe, you can find your way back together.

hyunjin

The next morning, you woke to a cloud of confusion still hanging over you. Hyunjin's remark from last night, as well as the way he pushed you away, played on an unending loop in your memory. The hurt was still fresh, but you were beginning to wonder why. Why had everything changed so dramatically? Why had Hyunjin, who you had always trusted, suddenly become distant?

You'd barely slept, your mind knotted in a web of despair, confusion, and betrayal. Everything seemed odd as you tried to get through the day. The calm hum of your daily routine had been replaced by a heavy silence in your chest. Your phone remained silent, and you weren't sure if that was a relief or something else entirely. You couldn’t decide whether to hope Hyunjin would reach out to explain himself or whether it was better to just forget it all.

But then, in the late afternoon, your phone buzzed. It was a text from him.

Hyunjin: Can we talk? I need to explain.

Your stomach twisted, both nervous and cautious. You stared at the message, weighing the possibility of opening the door to this conversation. You didn’t know if you were ready to hear whatever he had to say. Still, part of you needed answers, even if they were painful.

After a few moments of hesitation, you typed back.

You: Where?

Hyunjin: Meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Please.

You took a deep breath and, despite everything, found yourself getting ready to meet him. Part of you was angry, but there was another part, the part that still missed him, that needed to understand. You had always believed in the strength of your friendship. You didn’t want to just throw that away without knowing what had really happened.

When you arrived at the park, the air felt cool against your skin, and the trees around you swayed gently in the breeze. The park was quiet, mostly empty, with only a few scattered joggers. You found him near a bench, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his posture tense. He stood as soon as he saw you, but neither of you moved closer at first. There was an awkwardness between you two that felt thick enough to cut.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice almost faltering. "You wanted to talk?"

He nodded but didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, staring at you as if he wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice low and unsure. "I know I hurt you last night, and I—I need you to know that wasn’t my intention. I’ve been… I’ve been a mess, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.”

You furrowed your brows, the confusion growing. “Feelings? What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin seemed to hesitate, as if he was unsure whether to voice the words out. But after a moment, he added, his voice breaking slightly: "I—I like you. More than just a friend. I had for a while, but I wasn't sure how to deal with it. So I tried pushing you away. I figured if I detached myself from you, it would go away. That I could let go of these feelings."

The words struck you like a thunderclap. For a while, you just stood there, your mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he had just revealed. Hyunjin... liked you? Was it why he had been so distant? All the time you'd spent wondering what had changed, what had gone wrong… it was this?

He looked at you, his eyes full of vulnerability, guilt, and something else that you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I thought… if I pushed you away, I could just forget. But the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. And last night, I just… I didn’t know how to act around you anymore. So I lashed out. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stood there, silently absorbing his words. The knot in your chest relaxed, but it was replaced by something else: a rush of feelings you couldn't quite describe.

You had no idea how to handle this revelation. You had been wondering what had happened to your friendship, why things seemed so tense, and now it all made sense. But it was overwhelming. You never saw it coming.

"I don't know what to say," you confessed gently. "I did not..." I didn't realize you felt that way. All I saw was you slipping away, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I didn't realize it was about this."

“I should have told you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I was so afraid of ruining everything, of losing our friendship. But instead, I ended up pushing you away. I thought if I could stop being close to you, I could stop feeling this way. I was wrong."

You felt a mixture of emotions rise up relief, anger, sadness, confusion. But beneath it all, there was something else: you understood now. He had been trying to protect himself, even if it meant hurting you in the process. It didn’t make his actions right, but it made them a little easier to comprehend.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice softer than before.

Hyunjin took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were immediately. I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to try. I want to be honest with you now. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I couldn’t let you think you didn’t matter."

You paused for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you still felt hurt, but another part of you your heart, maybe was softening. You had always cared about him. The idea of more than just friendship… it was a lot to process, but you realized that in some way, you were willing to listen, to figure out what this meant for the two of you.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care. I do. I care a lot. We just need time. To figure this out.”

Hyunjin nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet hope. “I’ll give you time. I won’t push you. I just needed to say it. To be honest.”

The two of you stood there for a while, neither of you moving, but there was a shift a change in the air. For the first time in weeks, it felt like there might be a way forward. Maybe it wasn’t simple, maybe it wasn’t easy, but at least you had the truth. And that, you realized, was enough to begin again.

HAN

The silence lingered for what seemed like hours, the kind of silence that enveloped you both like a thick cloud. You hadn't moved, still curled on the bed, eyes locked on the wall, as if it might give some answers. You couldn't get the idea that something inside of him had permanently shifted, that whatever had cracked tonight had been building up for a time and was now beyond your control.

Jisung said nothing, did not try to pull you closer, nor did he give his usual soothing words of regret. But he had not left either. His presence next to you, despite its normal comfort, suddenly felt like a distant recollection, a piece of him that had vanished.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard him shift on the bed beside you. His voice was barely a whisper, but you could tell he was struggling, his words thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the weight of the apology, like he had been holding it back for so long it had become a raw, painful thing.

You stayed silent, not sure what to say. He had hurt you, and though you wanted to forgive him, you couldn’t shake the sting of his words. His harshness had cut deeper than anything he’d said before, and you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the day, or something more, something that had been building up between you two for a while.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he continued, his voice shaky, as if the apology itself had become difficult to express. “I’m just… I’m just tired. I don’t know how to deal with everything. But that doesn’t excuse how I snapped at you. You don’t deserve that. You never do.”

You eventually allowed yourself to turn towards him, your gaze scanning his face, and you saw the weakness there, the same vulnerability you had always seen beneath his normal confidence. His fists were clasped in his lap, and his shoulders bowed, as if he were bracing for the impending storm.

"You are not a burden, Y/N." "You're not clingy," he continued quietly, his voice much lower now, as if the apology was gradually peeling away the layers of irritation and hurt. "I just.. I'm not always sure how to let you in. I am so overwhelmed that instead of accepting your help, I push you away."

Your heart squeezed. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was battling with himself, trying to figure out how to make it right without knowing how.

“I’ve been so used to dealing with everything on my own,” he continued, looking at the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems. I didn’t want you to see me as weak. But instead, I ended up hurting you.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and it took everything in you not to reach out and wrap your arms around him. You knew he had been struggling, you knew it. But hearing him admit that he had been keeping things from you, afraid of showing his true self, only made the ache in your chest grow.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I think you're strong. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Jisung. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

He shook his head, eventually meeting your eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, but there was also a quiet desperation in them, as if he didn't know how to mend the rift between you two.

“I just... I'm so sorry. I don't know how to ask for help," he said, his voice full with sorrow. "But when you try to help me, I... I push you away because I'm not sure how to let you in. But you aren't a burden, Y/N. You have never been one. I just didn't know how to handle anything on my own, so I ended up pushing you away when all you wanted was to be there for me."

The honesty in his words was almost too much to bear. You had always known Jisung to be someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, someone who could make light of even the darkest situations. But now, seeing him like this, so raw and open, made your chest tighten.

“I don’t want you to push me away anymore,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to help you. But I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”

Jisung's lips twitched, as if he wanted to say more but couldn't find the right words. Instead, he simply nodded, the impact of his quiet screaming loudly. He didn't need to say anything else because you could feel the pain in his chest and all the frustration he'd been carrying around for too long.

For a long time, the two of you merely sat there, your quiet now distinct. It wasn't the crushing stillness of earlier, but one filled with empathy, even if neither of you understood exactly how to mend anything.

After a while, Jisung reached out, his hand hesitating before softly stroking your arm. The warmth of his fingers across your skin brought back memories of how simple things had been between you two. He didn't say anything unnecessary, but you could sense his apology in the way he held his hand there, letting you know he was sincerely sorry.

"I'll try to do better," he answered simply and softly. "I will try to let you in more. I do not want to push you away anymore."

You nodded, your heart still heavy but not as broken as it had been moments ago. “I just want to be there for you, Jisung,” you said softly. “I don’t want you to have to go through everything alone.”

The quiet stretched again, but this time, it felt different. It felt like a beginning. Neither of you knew how to fix everything right away, but you both knew that you wanted to try. And sometimes, that was enough.

Jisung shifted closer, his hand still resting on your arm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so distant from each other. There were still things left unsaid, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to try again.

felix

The hours passed by in agonizing silence, the kind that made everything seem more impossible than it actually was and stretched and clawed at your thoughts. Nothing could take away the icy emptiness that had descended between you and Felix, even as you lay there, wrapped up inside yourself, listening to the gentle buzz of the night.

When the world got too much, he would wrap up with you and reassure you with soft touches and quiet words. You recalled the warmth you had previously enjoyed. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. His distance was more than just physical; it was something that made your chest hurt since you didn't know how to make it better.

But as much as you wanted to lie there, to let the hurt consume you, you couldn't. You couldn't just wait and wonder if things would somehow improve on their own. You were the kind of person who needed closure, who needed to understand what was happening. And right now, Felix was slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You sat up, wiping at your tear-streaked face, and glanced towards the living room. The faint glow from the TV still flickered through the hallway, casting a cold light on the darkness of the apartment. You could feel the weight of the choice pressing down on you: Should you leave him be, give him the space he seemed to want, or should you push through, confront him, and demand answers?

You hesitated for quite some time. But then you made a decision. You needed answers. You needed to understand why the person you loved had abruptly shifted into someone you didn't recognize. You moved along the hallway, the apartment's silence more oppressive than before.

Felix kept his position on the couch, his eyes looking blankly at the TV, his posture tight and walled off. You stayed there for a moment, studying him, trying to determine whether he noticed your presence.

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. His face remained unreadable.

"Felix," you said again, your voice steady but laced with emotion. This time, there was no hesitation in your tone, no softness. You needed him to hear you.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel the tension in the room shift slightly, as if he knew you were waiting for him to say something. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter than before.

“I told you I don’t want to talk,” he said, almost in a whisper. But this time, the words weren’t as sharp. There was something else in his voice, something you hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t anger, but a deep exhaustion, a weariness that seemed to go beyond just physical fatigue.

You didn’t take a step back this time. Instead, you closed the distance between you, sitting on the arm of the couch, your hand brushing lightly against his. It was small, a gesture that once would have meant nothing, but now it felt like everything. You needed him to know you were still here, that you hadn’t given up.

“Felix,” you repeated, softer this time, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “I know something’s bothering you. And I get it. You don’t have to talk right now, if you’re not ready. But I need to know—am I the problem?”

When you asked the question, his head snapped towards you, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he had never considered it before. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and you thought you caught a glimpse of the old Felix, the one who used to share everything with you, the one who would always turn to you when the world got too much.

"Of course not," he said gently, his voice husky. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his palms before running them through his hair. "You aren't the problem. "I just...I’m a mess right now, okay? I did not mean to push you away. I didn't know how to deal with it, and I thought if I could draw back, maybe it would get better.”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in what felt like days, you understood. Felix had always been the strong one, the person who seemed so capable of handling everything on his own. But now you saw how much he was struggling beneath the surface, how much he had been hiding.

"You don’t have to carry it all alone," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Felix, we’ve always been a team. You can lean on me. You don’t have to push me away just because you’re having a hard time."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering to the floor, then back up to you. The tension in his shoulders finally seemed to ease, and he let out a long breath. It was as though a weight was slowly lifting, and for the first time in days, you saw a glimpse of the Felix you had known and loved.

“I’m scared,” he admitted softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m scared of being a burden. I’m scared that if I show you how much I’m struggling, you’ll leave. I’m scared you won’t love me if I’m not always the one who has everything together.”

The rawness of his confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you just sat there, your heart aching for him. You had always known Felix to be strong, but in this moment, you realized just how vulnerable he was beneath it all, and how much he had been carrying alone.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Felix,” you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “I love you, all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

Felix finally looked at you, his eyes wide, his expression almost disbelieving. The walls that had been built up around him seemed to crack ever so slightly, and you could see the relief in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his grip tightening around your fingers. “I’ve been pushing you away for no reason. I was just so scared.”

You shook your head gently, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Felix. You don’t have to be scared. We’ll get through this together.”

For a minute, you just stood there, the two of you having an unsaid understanding. There was still a lot to sort out, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you knew that if you were both ready to try, you could do it.

As Felix drew in closer, resting his forehead against yours, you felt the warmth of his presence return, as well as the relief that you hadn't lost him despite everything. Not yet.

And for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that things could be better.

seungmin

The morning light filtered softly through the kitchen windows, casting a dull glow over the room. Seungmin walked in, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mind still half-occupied by the rehearsals and everything waiting for him outside the walls of this apartment. But as he sat down at the breakfast table, he was immediately hit with an unexpected shift in the air.

There was no cheerful greeting from you, no attempt to share a quiet moment together before the day began. Instead, you sat across from him, silently eating your breakfast, your gaze fixed on the plate in front of you. Usually, you’d be making something small, even if it was just a quick toast or coffee, a gesture that made mornings feel connected. But today, the stillness felt suffocating.

Seungmin frowned, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t quite understand why you weren’t speaking, but he knew something wasn’t right. He set his cup down, meeting your eyes for the briefest of moments before his voice broke through the quiet.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone a bit strained, not sure if he was even ready to hear the answer.

You did not respond immediately away, keeping your gaze fixed on your food and your jaw tight as if the words you wanted to say were locked between your teeth. But they didn't come, and your silence spoke louder than any argument. Seungmin waited, his patience dwindling as time passed.

Finally, you scoffed, making a little but harsh sound that seemed to cut through the air, and you stood up from the table, pushing your chair back with an audible scrape.

"I don’t know, Seungmin," you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration, barely holding back the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I don’t matter to you."

He blinked, taken aback by the intensity of your words. Before he could respond, you stormed off, the door to the bedroom slamming shut behind you with a force that rattled the still air. Seungmin sat there, the taste of the bitter coffee suddenly unfamiliar in his mouth, his mind spinning. He hadn’t expected this. Not after everything that had happened last night.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. He went through the motions work, meetings, rehearsals but your words lingered in his mind, a constant hum of unease. By the time he returned home that evening, the tension was unbearable. He hesitated by the front door, unsure of what to expect. Normally, he would have found you sitting on the couch, or you would have greeted him with a small smile, asking about his day. But tonight, there was only silence.

He walked into the apartment, his footsteps faltering slightly as he noticed you in the corner of the living room, avoiding his gaze completely. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes fixed on the television but not really seeing anything at all. He stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you, and the hollow feeling in his chest deepened.

"Can we talk?" he asked carefully, his voice laced with concern. His eyes searched yours for any sign that you were ready to listen.

You didn't respond immediately, your body rigid and remote. His heart fell as he saw the look on your face, as if a part of you had closed off, trapped behind a door he couldn't open. "Please," he said, getting closer. "I don't know what's going on, but..." "I can't fix this unless you tell me."

You snapped your head up, your eyes burning with a mix of pain and frustration. Your voice was more emotional than usual. "You don't get it, do you, Seungmin?" You stood up abruptly, raising your voice with each word. "I have tried. I've been trying for days to get you to come see me and realize that something is wrong! But all you have done is brush me off, make me feel like I’m too much for you, like I’m just… clingy."

His eyes widened in realization, the words you had uttered earlier in the morning returning to him with a crushing force. He had no idea it had gotten this bad, nor did he realize how much his words had hurt you until now. And it stung when the weight of his own stupidity fell on him. You carried on, your voice cracking as you talked.

"You've been really distant, Seungmin. And when I try to talk to you or look for your attention, you just push me away. You make me feel as though I am a burden. And I can't keep pretending that I don't feel it.”

Seungmin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stood there, completely stunned, his chest tightening with regret. He had been so wrapped up in his own stress and exhaustion, so focused on his own battles, that he hadn’t realized how far apart you had grown, how much pain you had been quietly carrying.

He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his voice small now, barely a whisper. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I… I didn’t realize how much my actions were hurting you."

But your anger had already started to bubble back up. You shook your head, arms crossed tightly against your chest. "How could you not realize, Seungmin? How could you not see how much I’m struggling with this? I needed you, but you’ve been so… so cold." You paused, your breath shallow. "I needed you to care. To see me."

The words stung like salt in an open wound, but Seungmin couldn’t deny the truth in them. His heart clenched, and without thinking, he moved toward you, pulling you into his arms before you could step away.

"I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible, or like you were too much. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I forgot to see you, to notice what I was doing to us." He held you tighter, his grip desperate now, like he was trying to hold onto something he feared was slipping away. "Please forgive me. I don’t want to lose you."

Your body trembled against him, but for the first time in what felt like ages, you didn’t pull away. You rested your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath, your emotions swirling but slowly softening under his touch.

"I just need you to be present, Seungmin," you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. "I need to know that you’re here with me. That I matter to you."

"I hear you," he whispered softly, gently touching your face and lifting your head to meet his gaze. His embrace was raw and vulnerable in a way you had not seen before. "I hear you, and I promise to do better." I will make you feel seen. I will make sure you understand how much you mean to me."

You nodded softly, your heart aching but glad for his genuine remarks. The path to healing would take time, but for the first time in a long time, you felt confident that he would accompany you on it.

I.N

The next day, Jeongin arrived at your apartment, his normal bright smile on his face as he walked through the door. It was as if yesterday had never happened. His aura was light and carefree, as if he hadn't just disrupted the peace you had previously enjoyed in your relationship.

You, on the other hand, were still reeling from his cold demeanor the night before. The hurt persisted, and you couldn't shake the weight of his words. Stop being so clingy. It wasn't the first time someone had made you feel small, but it hurt more than you expected, especially coming from him.

You didn't answer as usual, and you didn't greet him with the warmth he had grown to expect. Instead, you kept your distance by giving him short, clipped answers. You preoccupied yourself with little things in the apartment, refusing to make eye contact in the hopes that the stillness would bridge the gap between you. The tension in the room, however, was palpable.

Jeongin didn't seem to notice right away. He went about his usual business, jokingly discussing his day and laughing as if everything was alright. When he reached for your hand, you automatically pushed it away, indicating that something was wrong. His smile faltered, and the warmth in his eyes was gradually replaced by confusion.

"Hey," he said, voice soft, the smile still not fully gone but now laced with a hint of concern. "What's wrong?"

You looked up at him, saw the real confusion in his eyes, and almost let it go. Almost let go of your pain for his smile, for the Jeongin you adored. But the words you'd been keeping in all day sprang to the surface. "What was that yesterday?" You snapped, your voice filled with emotion. The anger, hurt, and confusion you'd been harboring all night had finally bubbled over. "You were an entirely different person. One minute you were fine the next you were pushing me away, telling me I was too clingy. What was that?"

Jeongin blinked, taken aback by your strong tone, his eyes wide as if he had not expected such an outburst. His posture tensed, and for a brief period, you could see the walls he had built to protect himself from whatever discomfort was brewing inside. But that didn't erase the fact that his actions had harmed you more than he knew.

"If you want to act like that, maybe we should just break up," you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, a mix of hurt and frustration in your voice. "I don't want to be with someone who suddenly treats me like I'm a burden just because they're worried about what others think.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jeongin’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing as if the idea of you breaking up was the last thing he expected. His eyes softened slightly, and his voice became almost breathless as he spoke, not quite believing what you’d just said.

“Wait… what?” His voice wavered, the hurt in his eyes clear now. "No, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

You crossed your arms, feeling the burn of frustration building again. You needed answers. “Then what was it, Jeongin? Why did you act like that? I thought we were fine, but now… now I don’t know where I stand with you.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands running through his hair as he paced for a moment, clearly struggling to find the right words. After a beat of silence, he stopped in front of you, meeting your eyes, this time with a vulnerability that was both unexpected and painfully familiar.

“I… I love you," he began, his voice steady but filled with an edge of fear. "I love you so much, but I was afraid… I was afraid that if we showed too much PDA, the members would tease me relentlessly. They’re always joking about stuff like that, and I didn’t want them to make fun of me, of us."

The explanation hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, stunned. Was this actually the reason? Was he so concerned about what his members thought that he distanced himself from you, his girlfriend, in front of them? You struggled to wrap your head around it.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" The question fell out of your mouth before you could think. The thought of it twisted something inside you, the possibility that he might consider you as something to hide rather than something to be proud of.

Jeongin’s face immediately morphed into one of panic, as if the very suggestion cut him deeper than anything you could have said. “No! God, no. I would never—” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for you, but you instinctively took a small step back. He stopped, his hands falling to his sides, the hurt in his eyes obvious now.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his confession hanging between you two. "I never meant for you to feel like that. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want the members to think I was soft or that I couldn’t keep my cool. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m sorry for pushing you away, for making you feel like I didn’t care about you."

His words were a mix of regret and sincerity, and as he spoke, you could feel the depth of his struggle, the dread of being judged and ridiculed that kept him from completely being himself with you. It wasn't that he didn't love you; it was just that he hadn't understood how to balance his feelings with the demands of his life.

You stood there, silent for a moment, contemplating what he had just said. Your heart was still raw, but you could see remorse in his eyes and feel it in the way he stood, as if he was waiting for you to decide what to do next.

Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter than before, but the hurt remained beneath the surface. "I don't care what others say, Jeongin. I care about us. I want to be able to express my love for you without having to worry about what others might say."

He nodded quickly, his stare focused, and took a slight step toward you. "I promise I won't do it again. I will never make you feel that you are too much, or that I am embarrassed by you. You are more than just someone I care about; you are someone I am proud of. And I will do better. I will."

You held onto his gaze, seeing the honesty in his eyes and sensing the truth in his words. It was not a simple fix. There was work to be done and trust to be rebuilt, but you could tell right away that he was eager to give it his all.

"I just need you to be honest with me," you muttered, feeling the tension between you begin to ease. "That's all I want."

Jeongin's expression softened as he made one final step forward, closing the gap between you. His hands met yours, and his contact was warm and grounded. "I'm here. I'm actually here. And I will make sure you never feel that way again."

(❌ proofread)

masterlist.

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 2 days ago

Text

Spite alone is not enough for me.

I can't face the next four years if the best I've got against systemic bullying and dehumanization is the knowledge that my continued existence pisses these bigots off. That's just not enough for me to keep going. It makes me feel like giving up now. I can't resign myself to four years of misery, and I don't think you should, either.

My hope today comes from knowing there's going to be rough shit in the next 4 years, but there's going to be joy, too. There are going to be kids who start hrt for the first time. People will get the gender-affirming surgeries they need and feel comfortable and happy in their body like they never knew they could. Trans people all over this country will come out and finally feel like they can be themselves. This year, there will be nervous trans teenagers wearing rented dresses and tuxedos to prom who will be so scared but it will go perfectly fine. There will be parents who hug their children and tell them that they might not understand yet but they will always, always love them. For every transphobic uncle there will be that kind stranger who makes sure to "sir" or "ma'am" you a bit extra hard. There will be donated binder drives and joyful art posted by a teenager who just learned what "nonbinary" means and people in administrative positions who try to make our lives a bit easier when they can.

I'm terrified of what the next four years will bring. I'm scared of losing my healthcare, I'm scared for trans kids, I'm scared of the rampant dehumanization aimed at us. I'm tired of being used as a political punching bag.

But that's not all these years will bring. For myself and for all my trans siblings in the US, I hope these years bring us joys we haven't even imagined yet and victories we haven't yet considered we could win. And I can try to keep going for that. I hope you do, too.

#us politics #trans

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ponett · 2 days ago

Note

I'm about to start working on my own RPG with RPG maker, but the part that intimidates me isn't any of the graphical stuff or even programming anything. It's math. How did you find a good progression of exp and stat boosts?

Here's my dark secret with SLARPG: I didn't do any proper math to determine the stat stuff. I didn't use any spreadsheets. It's aaaallllllllll vibes-based, baby. I'd just put numbers and basic stat curves into RPG Maker that seemed okay, and then I tweaked them back and forth through playtesting to get everything feeling how I wanted it to.

The party's stat growths have a somewhat convex slope—they're more significant early on and then slow down later. This way you're noticeably stronger against the lowest tier enemies after your first few levels, but the late game bosses won't vary wildly in difficulty if you're only level 27 instead of 30. (I did manually make sure the party's max HP and MP values would always be multiples of 5, though, just to keep the numbers nice and tidy.)

New areas will give the player new gear with noticeable stat boosts over their old stuff, and then enemies are balanced around that. I'd do battle tests and tweak the enemies for each area so that they felt like they were about as tough as I wanted them to be when pitted against a party with average gear for that part of the game. Feels too easy? Then I make the numbers bigger. And vice versa. And I'd keep making further tweaks after having other people playtest the game. But the further I got in development the better my balancing instincts got, so I had to make fewer balance adjustments than you might think.

The EXP curve, on the other hand... I'm pretty sure I just left default? I adjusted the pace of leveling more via enemy EXP than via the party's EXP requirements. There's a noticeable bump in the EXP enemies give in each new area, so if the player is underleveled when they hit a new area they'll catch up quickly. And of course bosses tend to give enough EXP to guarantee a level if you can beat them.

#rat-girl-big-tits #ask #slarpg asks

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felix-lupin · 21 hours ago

Text

[VD: A tiktok by pearlmania500; they start by saying "I need you to stop right now, and I need you to watch this." The video cuts to a tweet by Aaron Rupar (@ atrupar) reading "Um" with a video attached of a CNN news feed of Elon Musk at Donald Trump's inauguration. Elon says "And I just want to say thank you, for making it happen. Thank you," before slapping his chest with an audible sound and then throwing his hand in the air in a Nazi Salute.

Back to pearlmania500, they say:

"The first step is they're gonna tell you that what you saw, you didn't see. And if you saw it, and you think you saw it, you actually saw something else, and actually it should be interpreted differently, but really it was just a joke or in the moment or all these different things; eventually, they'll tell you it's AI; eventually, they'll just bury the clip.

They're open about it. We went through this last time. They're gonna be open about it now; they spent four years denying that this is who they are.

That is the richest man in the world. Whacked out on his mind on God knows what, standing in front of tens of thousands of people, in front of hundreds— hundreds of cameras, from all these different news agencies around the world being live broadcast, and he knew that and he still did that. He slapped his chest so hard you could hear it.

And now that man has an office inside The White House complex, and he's running a committee called DOGE. Which is just a joke of an acronym, because he's really there just to make sure that his investment does what he really wants.

So congratulations to Vice President Trump today. I'm glad that our real president actually told us which party is truly in power today."

End VD.]

Elon Musk's N*zi Salute at the Trump Inauguration Rally. The US government will attempt to censor this or shift your perception of it.

You Saw, What You Saw.

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transmcytshowdown · 3 days ago

Text

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

#transmcytshowdown #poll #joel smallishbeans #hermitcraft #life series #third life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #wild life #empires smp #empires season one #empires season two

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days ago

Text

Run, Run, Run II

Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Your new life

Your feet pound on the concrete of the pavement, rain drip-dropping down your skin.

The rain of Manchester had been difficult to get used to when you originally moved, used to the sun of Spain and the warmth on your skin as you completed your morning run.

The rain wasn't something that you were surprised about but it was still something that you've had to get used to.

You've had to get used to a lot actually but one thing, for better or for worse has stayed that same.

Your damned attraction to female footballers older than you.

You'd been burned by Alexia. That was all you could think about those first few weeks. How every memory with her was stained with fire and flames and an overwhelming heat that made you lose your mind.

But she had cheated and you had promised yourself to never be like your mother - to never stay with someone that disrespected you like that.

Your father was a damned near perfect father. He took you to all of your track meets and he'd never missed a parent-teacher evening in his life. He bragged about you to his co-workers.

But he had never been a perfect husband, cheating on your mother multiple times but she had still stayed, happy in the relative normalcy she has with your father.

You'd promised to never be like her so the decision to leave Alexia and flee the country didn't take as much thought as you thought it would.

And now you're in rainy Manchester, drying off your hair with the handy towel that hangs up in the entrance hall for you to use exactly for these moments.

"You're back?"

You smile as you rub the towel over your hair.

"I said I would before you left me."

"Left you? I'm only going to camp."

You sigh dramatically, pressing the back of your palm to your still damp forehead. "And leaving me here, all alone! Locked in this prison!"

"You were the one that decided on this apartment? You said you liked the open plan arrangement? We have a balcony?"

You press a soft kiss to Leila's lips. "You knew I was only joking. But I will miss you when you're at camp."

"I'll miss you too. Are you sure you can't come to the match?"

You nibble on the inside of your cheek.

Your life with Leila was practically perfect in every way. She was so in tune with you and your needs. She knew when you needed a break from cooking dinner or doing the grocery shop. She knew exactly when you needed a little pick me up like flowers or chocolates or even a long cuddle session in bed.

Everything was perfect but you just can't bring yourself to go back to Spain in that way, to put yourself in a situation where you'll be so close to Alexia again, the woman that you had once thought would be your wife some day.

"Baby..." You say, looking up at Leila," You know I wouldn't put you in that situation. Alexia...I don't want her to try to ostracise you from the team."

Leila sighs. "She's never done such a thing. Even...Even during...you know..."

"I know but it might be different. I mean...with me and her, it was...I don't know. I don't want you be at risk."

"I understand," Leila says, forehead pressed against your own," But if you did want to come, I've got a ticket reserved for you, alright?"

"I'll...I'll think about it. I promise."

Leila thinks about it too, all throughout camp. It circles through her mind like a dog with a bone. She wakes up thinking about. She goes to sleep thinking about it.

You've watched plenty of her matches at City, where you've become a favourite of the fans without even meaning to. You're a constant presence in the stands with a cup of whatever warm drink you poured yourself before leaving the house.

She's lost count of how many of her Panini stickers you've signed for fans before coming down onto the pitch to greet her.

But you've never come to one of her matches for Spain, not with Alexia on the team, the ever lurking looming presence of your relationship.

Leila's never really seen her captain in the same way since. She's a good captain, an amazing player but Leila's learnt how to separate those aspects of Alexia to the one that she knows you experienced, the one that had tried to manipulate you into staying in a relationship, the one that had tried to promise you everything to stay with her even after cheating.

Leila can separate the Alexia on the pitch to the one off of it but she knows that is something you can't do.

The Alexia on the pitch and off the pitch has always been the same Alexia to you. There is no separation of who she is and Leila can accept your decision to stay away for that reason.

But it still doesn't stop her from wishing you would come to see her play.

The option is open for you but Leila would never hold it against you if you decided not to.

There were plenty of other games for you to go to.

"So..." Codi wheedles during breakfast before the match," Where's the girlfriend?"

Leila almost chokes over her cereal. "At home."

"She isn't coming?"

"She has the option if she wants. She's busy."

Codi rolls her eyes. "She's always busy during international break. She's got to come at some point."

Leila rolls her eyes. "She's her own person. I won't force her to do anything."

"You've got a new girlfriend?" Alexia asks, looking up from her phone.

Leila looks back down at her bowl, swirling the milk around with the back of her spoon. "I...Yeah, I do. She's great..."

She bites her tongue, swallowing back what she actually wants to say, all of the things she wants to spit at Alexia on your behalf.

But she doesn't.

Leila stays silent, swirling her cereal around as the conversation moves on.

The pass is perfectly weighted from her on the pitch a few hours later, speeding through the legs of opposition players for Alexia to slot neatly into the net.

The rush of an assist runs through Leila as she turns to look into the stands.

You're sitting there, amongst the cheering of the fans.

Leila had seen you earlier, a surprise in a hoodie to cover your hair but your girlfriend could just see the Spanish jersey poking out from under it.

She suddenly finds herself praying that it's hers.

She'd even take it being blank.

Because Leila knows Alexia noticed you earlier, had seen you when the big screen focused on the crowd during the warm ups. She had seen Alexia stare at you. She had seen the aborted movement Alexia made towards you, like she was about to abandon the warm ups to go up to you - sweetly saccharine tone at the ready to convince you to go back to her.

Leila hopes that if you do have a name on your shirt, it's not Alexia's.

#woso x reader #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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myth1cs · 3 days ago

Text

Soulmates (Hirai Momo & Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

I FINALLY finished writing this. I'm done, I'm never writing a one shot this long again.

Read part 1: Love Warning (smut)

Word Count: 7,004

1 month after the events of "Love Warning"

As you were sitting in your office you got a phone call on your office phone.

"Hello?"

"You know what I'm calling for Y/N."

You took a deep sigh, hung up the phone, and made your way to Momo's office.

Ever since you took back the job you quickly realized why you wanted to quit in the first place. The only thing keeping you was the promise of sex with your boss.

Knocking on her door you waited for her to say "Come in." before you went in. "Go ahead close the door and lock it for me Y/N." she told you and you obliged.

"What's wrong Y/N is something on your mind?"

"It's nothing." you state as you make your way over to her.

"You suck at lying just tell me Y/N."

"No really I'm fine."

"I won't let you lick my pussy ever again if you don't tell me what's bothering you. Now tell me what's wrong."

You sighed, there was no getting past her. "Look it's just that I feel like doing this job is wearing me down. The only thing keeping me here is-"

Momo cut you off "Shh no need to say more Y/N I understand. I'm sorry I never paid much attention to your needs. How about you take a week off and I'll have Mina cover your work. Will that work for you?"

"Would that really be fine?"

"It'll be fine. Don't worry I'll let Mina yell at me."

"But who will take over Mina's work?"

"I can do it."

"No Momo I can't take a break if it means that you will have a bigger work load."

"Y/N I'm your boss and it's my job to make sure your mental health is okay. So please let me do this for you."

You knew there was no convincing her otherwise.

"Alright."

"Go ahead and go home and I'll go ahead and call Mina to tell her about her work change."

"Thank you Momo."

You walked out the door and headed to your office to grab your things before you went home.

"H-Han? Why are you in my office?"

"I've been looking for you Y/N."

"Why?"

"I just wanted to check up on you. Lately you've been behaving a little more ... I don't know how to say this without it coming off as weird but I feel as if you've been a little more depressed recently. I just wanted to check up on you maybe ask if you wanted to hangout with me on my lunch break."

"Han I don't know what to say."

Even if you didn't say it you were a little touched by the fact that Ji-sung noticed your struggle. Even Momo who you saw every day didn't notice. Though it was likely that she didn't notice cause she was too busy giving you head.

"Shit did I miss the mark Y/N? I'm sorry that was unprofessional of me."

"No Han it's fine really. But I should tell you that I got a week off from work so my mental health should be fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. Just call me if you ever need someone to complain to."

"Will do."

Suddenly Han's phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check it.

"Damn it."

"What happened?"

"Lee Know is upset I didn't finish my work yesterday."

"Good luck with that."

Han left the room and you started to collect your things.

When you finished collecting your stuff you started heading out but before you could even make it out of your office doors you ran into yet another coworker.

"Mina what are you doing here?"

"So you're going on break for a week?"

Ignoring your question to ask her own ... typical.

"Answer my question first asshole."

"Feisty today huh? Would you do the same if I was Momo?"

"Quit yapping and get to the point."

"Don't you know patience is a virtue? But fine I'll cut to the chase, do you live alone Y/N?"

"Yeah I live alone."

"Good give me your address now."

"Why?"

"Don't you think it's time for you to call someone else your mommy? Momo is focused on giving you pleasure but no one has focused on giving you pleasure. I just want to give that to you."

"What's your relationship with Momo?"

"If you give me your address I'll answer your questions."

"I'll text it to you Mina."

"It wasn't that hard now was it Y/N?"

She smiled at you before she left your office.

You still had many questions to ask her. What was her relationship with Momo and why was she so interested in you?

"I'll think more about it when I get home." you thought to yourself.

Once you arrived home you went straight to bed exhausted from the work you've been doing without even bothering to change your clothes.

Before you could fall asleep you heard a knock coming from your front door not long after you laid down on your bed.

"Who the fuck is knocking, why can't they leave me alone?"

Getting up and making your way to the front door. You opened the door and saw Ji-min (Karina) on the other side.

"Karina why are you here and not at work?"

"Today is my day off. The real question is why are you here?"

"I'm on a week break."

"Why?"

You didn't want to tell more people than you should. Karina was the type of coworker that couldn't keep her mouth shut about anything. Not long after she mistakenly thought you hit on Mina she started to talk about it with everyone which started a rumor that you had a crush on Mina.

A few of your coworkers brought it up to you and you had to explain the situation to them. Though you were unsure if the rumors ever reached Momo or Mina.

"I just want a break from work."

"I feel that. So how's it going with Mina?"

"Karina!"

"What? I just want to know if you took any of the advice I gave you."

"Are you just here to bother me?"

"No I'm not, how about you let me in your house."

You moved out of the way and let her in. Karina walked in and walked around your house.

"It's rather small no?"

"Yeah, well I don't want a big place."

"Won't you get bored if you stay here all week?"

"I'll manage."

"Y/N that's sad. How about we go to an event at the end of the week?"

"Event?"

"There's an event going on tonight down the street called "Soulmates". A select few of people will be accepted and get the chance to mingle with others who were accepted."

"I'm not interested."

"Come on if your not going to talk to Mina you might as well try to see if you can get a girlfriend."

"I'll think about it."

"Today's the last day they'll take submissions though!"

"Whatever just sign me up yourself."

"No you have to do it yourself!"

"Why?"

"Because they'll want to interview you."

A low groan came out of your mouth and you knew Karina wouldn't leave you alone unless you agreed.

"Let's go then."

"Would it kill to be able to relax?"

...

Once you arrived at the place where the "Soulmates" event would be taking place Karina led you to the registration area.

There weren't as many people as you thought there would be but then again today was the last day so most people probably already signed up beforehand.

Once it was your turn you walked into the room and sat in front of a woman who was holding a clipboard.

"Please state your full name and what sex you identify as."

"Y/N L/N and I'm a guy."

"Do you prefer Men, Women, or Non-binary?"

"Uhm ... Women I think."

"What's your current occupation."

"I work as a secretary."

"Can you state for which company?"

"Tdoong Entertainment."

"A lot of applications from people who work there it seems." The woman said as she wrote on her clipboard.

"Wait there are others who signed up from the company?"

"Can you say who else who works at Tdoong Entertainment signed up for this event?"

"Sorry sir but I can't share that."

"That's fine."

"Anyways let's continue, so what would you say you're looking for in a partner?"

"Well..."

Once you finished answering all her questions she let you go and you met up with Karina.

"So how did it go?"

"I don't think they'll accept me."

"Why not?"

"I feel like she wasn't impressed by my answers."

"Don't say that Y/N I'm sure you'll be accepted."

"By the way the lady mentioned that other people from the company have signed up for the event. Do you know who else signed up?"

"Well other than me I have no idea who else could have signed up."

"I guess it's not my business regardless."

"Want to hangout at your place Y/N?"

As much as you wanted to tell Karina to go home you didn't want to sound rude by denying her offer.

"Sure let's go."

You and Karina headed back towards your house and you told yourself that you didn't really care if you got accepted. After all your having sex with Momo who you find attractive after all. Sure you both aren't "Official" but who cares?

Though you might not want to admit it you really wanted someone who could understand you and support you emotionally. You didn't care about sex with Momo, if she couldn't understand you were experiencing emotional distraught until you directly told her was she really your soulmate?

Once you both arrived at your house you went to sit on the couch and Karina followed you.

"So what are we doing Y/N?"

"Can you just leave me alone?" is what you wanted to tell her.

"Let's just watch a show yeah?"

"Okay, what do you want to watch?"

"How about you pick?"

Karina grabbed the controller sitting on the table and turned on your T.V. "What genre are you feeling?"

"Anything."

She gave you a sly smirk and put on a movie.

You didn't necessarily care about what she put on. Sitting back and closing your eyes trying to finally get some rest.

Unsure of how long you had your eyes closed you were suddenly waken up by the feeling that someone was wrapping their arms around you.

"Karina what are you doing?"

"Look at the movie Y/N."

Looking up to see the movie you saw it was a couple who were talking to each other in a bedroom.

"What about it?"

"Keep watching."

You kept your eyes on the movie but had issues hearing and watching the movie because you were still a bit hazy after waking up.

As the movie went on it suddenly turned explicit as the people in it were quickly discarding their clothes and were being intimate with each other.

It made you a little hot watching such an explicit movie to begin with but now you were watching it with a coworker.

Your cock was getting a bit hard and you were getting worried Karina would notice.

"Can we skip this scene? I'm not a big fan of explicit movies." You asked but Karina didn't answer your question.

Out of the blue you felt hands on your thigh. You looked down and saw that they were Karina's and they were inching closer to your cock.

You were getting nervous and tried to take her hands off of you but you weren't able to pry them off.

Karina's hands were now directly touching your clothed cock and your face was burning red. For the first time since her hands were on your thighs you turned to Karina.

"Y/N you know you can ask me for anything right?"

Unable to control your urges you latched your lips onto hers.

A heated exchange between both of you started and both of your tongues started exploring the others mouth living in the moment.

Your hands reached up for Karina's breasts and you gave them a firm squeeze which elicited a moan from her.

She wasn't about to forget about her own desires and started to rub your clothed cock which made you let out a low groan.

Now your heated exchange was getting sloppy with saliva pouring out of both of your mouths. You pulled away and now rubbed your tongue with Karina's as you changed your hand to the other breast and started to rub them.

You really wanted to tear off her clothes and feel her naked body. Karina however was already ahead of you. She started to pull up her shirt making it half way before you helped her take off the rest, throwing it, and leaving her in her black bra.

Reaching around her body you unclasped her bra letting them fall to the floor. Not wasting your chance you shoved your face in between Karina's breast and used one of your hands to squeeze her ass and the other you used to rub her clothed pussy.

"Ugh ~ Ah" Karina moaned. Her voice echoed throughout your house. Your tongue started to run all over Karina's massive breast and you were determined to make them sopping wet.

Karina moved her hands down your body and slid your pants off your body. She grabbed a hold of your hardened cock through your underwear and started to quickly pump it.

Your face was shoved so deep into Karina's breast that you were basically suffocating but in all honesty you wouldn't mind your final moments being spent in her breasts.

Karina however wasn't about to let that happen and pulled you away. You took a big gasp of air as you were finally able to properly breath for the first time since you shoved yourself in her breasts.

"Why did you pull me away?"

"There is still so much more pleasure to have."

Karina removed your underwear and her remaining clothing then proceeded to sit on your cock. "Ah your cock is stretching me out so damn good Y/N."

She started to ride you moving herself up and down. It drove you crazy how good her pussy felt.

"I bet Momo never fucked you this good!"

She could. But you didn't want to tell Karina that Momo fucked you better due to the fear that she might stop.

"Y-yeah ... totally."

Both of you were now sweating and you took the chance to lick her nipples which were being covered in her sweat. But did you even care?

"Your breasts are so soft and addicting."

"And you can play with them anytime Y/N. Just give me a call and I'll come right over."

Your cock was twitching and Karina took notice. She sped up her movements and you started to suck on her breasts harder.

Wrapping your hands around her body to pull her closer. The intense moment carried on for a few more seconds until both of you ended up cumming on each other.

Both of you were now sweaty and filthy. Your stress from your job seemingly faded as you released your cum into Karina's pussy.

The key word being seemingly. Truth be told sex was only a temporary fix. Eventually it would all come back again eventually and the stress would be stronger.

Though you weren't thinking of that at the moment. Your only concern was the woman who was sitting on you.

Karina stood up and reached out her hand to you.

"We're not done."

Even though you were exhausted you did want to have another round with her.

You grabbed her hand and she pulled you up. Both of you were having issues keeping balance while standing so you were both leaning on each other for support.

She led you to a wall and bent over for you. "Go ahead and fuck my ass Y/N."

Shoving your hardened cock into Karina you messed up her insides. Thrusting in and out at a rapid pace you were fondling with her breasts as you messed up her insides.

"Why do I listen to you so much?"

"Y/N is now really the time to ask these questions?"

You gave her breasts a rough squeeze.

"I just don't know if going to the soulmates event is a good idea."

"You're never going to get the chance to go if you don't cum in me."

Forcing yourself as deep as possible into her ass you came inside of her. Your cum was spilling out of her making a small puddle on the floor.

You pulled out and made your way back to the couch to fall asleep.

There was a loud banging on your door that woke you up. You checked the time and saw it was 2:30 AM. Who could be at your door at this hour.

Making your way to your door you opened the door and saw Mina on the other side.

"Why are you here?"

Mina's face went a little red.

"Why do you sleep naked?"

"What are you-"

You looked down and noticed that you didn't have clothes on. Suddenly you remembered that you had sex with Karina.

Quickly closing the door you rushed to your room and quickly put some clothes on. "Karina must have left after I fell asleep."

Going back downstairs to open the door for Mina and let her in your house.

"So do you sleep naked or were you having a one night stand?"

"Neither."

You led her to your kitchen and both of you took a seat.

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Whatever, I'm here to answer your questions that you've had for me. After all that was apart of the deal for you giving me your address."

"Oh yeah."

"So what do you want answers to."

"How did you know Momo was going to have sex with me?"

"Are you talking about the first time you came to talk to me in my office?"

"Yes."

"I have history with her."

"What history?"

"Well ..." She took a deep sigh.

"I didn't think I'd ever tell anyone this but I guess I have to now."

You were still sleepy after getting woken up at night but you forced yourself to stay awake. You had to know more about Mina.

"Look before you were hired I had your position. I dealt with the same shit you have to right now and just like you I got tired of the job. I was going to quit and similar to you she begged me to stay ruining her health all for the sake of the company."

She suddenly stopped talking. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "Do you mind if I grab a glass of water?"

"Go ahead."

Mina got up and got herself a glass of water. Taking a sip before she continued.

"I was worried about her just like you."

"So does she do this with everyone?"

"I don't know but I don't think so."

"What happened next?"

"Well I did the same thing you did. And she also had sex with me just like you. She promised to do it with me whenever as long as I stayed. But then you were hired."

Mina gripped the glass cup. Taking another sip before continuing.

"Since you had more qualifications than me I got demoted and the deal I had with Momo was off and her focus was all on you."

"Is that why you didn't care about her?"

"Yes that's exactly why. Truth be told I only offered having sex with you for my own benefit."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I figured that if you preferred having me over Momo then I could convince you to quit and I would be able to be her secretary again. That way I could have Momo to myself."

"Wait were you just going to leave me after you did all this."

"You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Yes I would have left you if my plan succeeded."

"I appreciate the honesty but damn."

"Well I originally came her to have sex with you but I'm sure you don't to after hearing it is only for my benefit."

"We could do it for fun."

"Yeah right Y/N. No offense but I don't like men."

"I understand. You're free to sleep here though I'm sure your tired."

"No I'm good."

"Suit yourself."

"I'll see you next week Y/N."

"See you."

Mina left your house leaving you alone once again.

"Guess I can scratch her off my potential "Soulmate" list."

The next day came and you weren't sure what to do. You settled on laying on your bed watching a movie when you suddenly received a message on your phone.

"Congrats Y/N you've been accepted to attend the "Soulmates" event happening at the end of the week! For further details please click on the link attached to this message"

You looked at the message and finally made your decision.

"I'm going to the Soulmates event."

The week flew by and you were waiting for the day the soulmates event would start.

On the day before the event was going to start you heard a knocking on your door. You went to open the door and to your surprise you saw Momo.

"Momo? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I'm having someone else cover it. Besides I think we need to talk anyway."

"Talk about what?"

"You see I've been thinking and ... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry about?"

"I should have realized you were struggling much sooner. And since I didn't I feel like I've been neglecting you in that way."

Your eyes softened. You never blamed anything on Momo after all you were the person who made the decision to stay.

"Don't say that Momo none of what I've been going through was your fault."

"But it is my fault."

You pulled Momo into a hug and held her tightly into your arms.

"Don't say that Momo. You have done nothing wrong but I wouldn't mind if you paid a little more attention to me."

She hugged you back and smiled.

"I can do that for you."

"Thank you."

"Hey Y/N I know that the company is going to be closed tomorrow but I won't be able to be with you tomorrow."

"That's fine I'll be busy myself tomorrow also."

"Really what for?"

"Personal things."

"Okay well take care alright."

"I will."

"See you back to work Y/N! And hopefully with a better mental state."

Today was the day the soulmates event was scheduled to happen. You got yourself ready beforehand and were now making your way to the event.

Once you found a parking space you started getting a little anxious. "What if I'm not satisfied with my soulmate? Or what if I don't even get one?" You thought to yourself but you tried to reassure yourself that everything will be fine.

You got out of your car and made your way inside. Once you stepped in you were directed to a room where other participants were.

"The event will start in just a few minutes sir. Feel free to chat with the others though."

Once you were in the room the quickly recognized a few of the people who showed up.

"Momo, Mina, Han, and Karina are all here?"

You didn't recognize the others.

You sat down at a chair next to someone you didn't know.

"Hey my name is Choi Ji-su but you can just call me Lia. What's your name?"

"Names Y/N nice to meet you Lia."

"Based off looks who do you have your eyes on?"

A bit out of the blue question and you weren't sure how to answer.

"Well ... no one really. I think everyone looks equally beautiful."

"That's such a boring answer you know."

"Well who do you have your eyes on?"

She pointed at a girl who was sitting at the far left.

"Her."

You looked at the girl Lia pointed to and you have to admit she was attractive.

"Hello everyone I'd like to welcome you all to today's soulmate event. Everyone here was selected by us. We wanted people who were different to have a chance to mingle with each other. Hopefully you all find a soulmate."

As the woman scanned the room she suddenly had a look on her face. "It seems someone didn't show up. I'm afraid to say that one of you will be walking away without a soulmate."

Everyone started to make their own count and realized she was right. A feeling of worry overcame everyone, after all no one wanted to be the person who left without a soulmate.

"Well regardless we'll move on. So first we'll let everyone have a chance to introduce themselves and then we can move on."

She left the room and everyone looked around to see if anyone would take the lead.

"Well I guess I'll start and we can just go left. Hello my name is Myoui Mina."

"My name is Kaito Yuki."

"Hirai Momo."

"Han Ji-sung."

"Yu Ji-min but I go by Karina."

"Kim Nam-joon but you can call me RM."

"Y/N L/N."

"Choi Ji-su but you can also call me Lia."

"Hwang Yeji."

The women walked back into the room and handed everyone a piece of paper and a pencil.

"Alright everyone I've given you a piece of paper and a pencil. Based on first impressions write down someones name. The person who has the most votes will get to choose 2 people to have lunch with on the top floor. Everyone else will eat here in the dining room. Feel free to write your own name. Give me your paper once you write down a name."

Nobody wrote down a name right away. It seems like everyone is putting some thought into their choice.

Yeji was the first to write a name down and give it to the lady. Afterwards more people started writing names and turning them in. Only a few people still hadn't written a name and you were one of them.

You were struggling to pick someone. There was no way you could find your soulmate based on luck.

"If I had to pick based off my limited interactions then I would have to pick..."

"The winner of the popular vote is Mrs. Myoui Mina. Mina once you pick the two people you want to take to lunch with then our staff can escort you to your room."

After Mina quickly scanned the room it wasn't long for her to pick.

"Momo and Y/N."

All three of you were led upstairs and into a room. "Feel free to have a moment to look over our menu. I'll be back in a bit to take your orders."

You and Momo sat next to each other while Mina sat across both of you. The room was silent, everyone was waiting to see who would be the one to speak up first. The silence was deafening.

Momo eventually cleared her throat.

"So Mina why'd you pick us?"

"I feel that I need to ... 'discuss' a few things with you."

"Uh-uhm."

"What are you talking about?"

You stayed silent.

Mina let out a sigh "Momo ... I love you so much. I don't want you to be with Y/N anymore."

Momo's cheeks turned red.

"I - I didn't know you felt that way Mina."

"You're so pretty Momo will you be mine?"

"What's pretty about me?"

"Your soft well kept hair, pretty face, and those massive set of-"

"Screw it Mina I can't wait any longer: kiss me."

Mina got up from her seat and rushed over to Momo. Her tongue slid into Momo's mouth. She put her hands inside of Momo's shirt, sliding her hands up and feeling Momo's abs.

"You're so strong Mo."

Momo smiled at Mina's compliment. She wrapped her hands around Mina's head and pulled her as close as she could.

Unsure of what you should be doing you kept watching the scene unfold in front of you. Part of you felt weird for watching them be intimate with each other but the other part of you couldn't muster up the will to look away. But you couldn't help but notice the difference in the way Momo had sex with you and how she's having it with Mina.

Mina raised her hands up Momo's body. Momo moaned into her mouth as she did so.

Before Mina could finish her foreplay a knock came on the door.

Quickly Mina got off Momo and rushed back to her seat.

"Have you three decided on your order?"

Mina and Momo were chatting with each other while you just kept your thoughts to yourself. Momo noticed and decided to rope you into their conversation.

"You want to join us next time Y/N?"

Looking up you saw Mina made a face of disgust at Momo.

"Why are you asking Y/N if he wants to join without asking me first? I don't want to have a threesome with a fucking guy."

"Mina it's rude to invite Y/N and not include him."

"I only invited him here because he was the only other person I knew. I'm not about to have some stranger watch us have sex Momo."

"But Mina-"

"What are you telling me you actually like men?"

"Well no but I kinda made a deal with him."

"Psh fine."

Momo leaned towards you and whispered into your ear. "Between you and me you're not that bad."

Not that bad?

"Th-thanks I guess."

"By the way Y/N if your filthy cock even lightly brushes me I will rip it off your body with my bare hands."

"R-right I understand."

"Damn Mina that's more harsh than I ever went with you or Y/N."

Before the next round of voting everyone had to make a gift and give it to someone. The three options were making a ring, mug cup making, and making a perfume.

Making a mug sounded bland but you weren't confident in being able enough to make a ring so you settled on making a perfume.

You sat alone for a long time and were a bit worried you were the only one to pick it until you heard footsteps coming into the room.

"It was Y/N right?"

"Kaito why are you here?"

"Couldn't leave you alone here."

"Well thanks for keeping me company."

"No problem."

You didn't want to sit in silence for the whole time so you decided to make some small talk.

"So where are you from?"

"I'm from Fujioka. I'm a student there actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah ... so where are you from?"

"I'm from ..."

"I've never been there but I'm sure it's nice."

"So who are you interested in?"

"Probably Karina, she was really caring and nice at the lunch we had. What about you, who are you interested in?"

"That's a hard question."

"Why's that? Momo and Mina had lunch with you did neither of them peak your interest?"

"More like they peaked each other's interest."

"Lesbians?"

"Yeah."

"That's good for them. But I guess you're a bit disappointed huh?"

"Its not that I'm just worried that I won't find someone."

"I understand how you are feeling. But maybe the person who your supposed to end up with is someone you haven't met or someone who you're least expecting."

"I don't know Kaito. I mean I was kind of in a relationship but I didn't feel happy afterwards. Only certain moments brought me joy."

"Well maybe you should look for different people. Those who can give you those feelings of happiness as much as possible."

"Thanks for the advice. I'll try to keep it in mind."

You couldn't say someone has necessarily brought you true "happiness". But then again...

When it was time to give someone your gift you thought back to Kaito's words.

Who has brought you the most happiness? Is that even measurable? But when you looked at their eyes. You felt relief almost a calming feeling. You walked up to them and handed them the perfume you made.

"Is this for me?"

"For you."

"Th - thank you Y/N I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this from you."

You simply smiled when you looked at their face.

"No problem. Besides I don't think I've felt better than when I was able to be around you."

Before getting to have everyone pick a soulmate everyone got a chance to talk to someone they wanted to.

Everyone picked the person they had their eyes on and it slowly reached your turn.

"Y/N Momo has requested to speak to you."

"Coming!"

You were led to the room and were left alone with Momo.

"Why'd you request to speak to me?"

"Y/N I know we talked yesterday but I just wanted you to know that I'll try harder for you."

"What are you saying?"

"I - I know you probably don't want me as your soulmate. But I just want you to know that I know I can't pick up on minor details but if you ever wanted to be in a relationship with me then I'd try harder to understand your emotions."

"Momo ... what about Mina?"

"I love her. But I was hoping you'd be okay if I switched between you and her."

You were second to last and you took your chance to talk to Lia a bit more. You weren't expecting your name to be called but to your surprise.

"Y/N someone has requested to speak with you."

"Who could possibly request to speak with me?" you thought to yourself. Momo is the only person who you had a romantic connection with so you weren't sure who would call your name.

"H - Han?!"

"Y/N its been a while huh?"

"Why'd you call me up here?"

"Well I just thought I'd get your advice on something."

"Go on."

"Well I was speaking to Karina but I also have been getting close with Yeji. I just don't know who to go for."

You chuckled

"Why are you laughing?"

"I just never thought I'd see you so worried about a relationship."

"Come on I can be fun to!"

"When you first asked to hangout with me I thought you would take me to a brothel."

"Y/N you wound me. You think I'd go to a brothel?!"

"You wouldn't?"

"Unless your taking me I don't think I would. Would you go to one?"

"Who knows maybe I'd go if you were there."

Han's face went a bit red.

"Oh how romantic, I see why Momo likes you Y/N."

"Come on you have to admit that it wasn't that bad of a line!"

The way people would pick there soulmate was the following:

One contestant would stand in front of the room looking away from everyone else.

The people who want to be with that person would stand behind them.

The person at the front would then turna round and pick who they want to be their soulmate.

Since only 9 people were there it seemed like one person would go home alone.

It was Mina's turn and only you and Momo were left.

"Let's go Y/N." Momo reached out her hand to you.

Begrudgingly you took her hand and both of you stepped up.

When Mina turned around she was a bit disconsolate to find out Momo was holding hands with you. She knew that if she wanted Momo you would have to also be there.

"Is it fine if I pick these two?"

The staff was rather surprised. No one has ever asked to take two people at the same time.

"Well ... I don't see why not."

Both you and Momo rushed up to Mina and hugged her.

"Ugh you idiot get off me."

Momo let go and backed away.

"No not you the other idiot!"

You couldn't help but laugh.

All three of you went to Momo's house after the "Soulmates" event ended.

"I don't get why you want Y/N to be a part of this Momo."

"I owe it to him."

"Just don't come near me Y/N."

Momo and Mina started undressing.

They both wanted to have sex but Momo didn't want to leave you behind.

You started to take your clothes off and Mina looked away.

"At least do it out of my eye sight!"

Once you all got undressed Momo jumped onto Mina.

"Mina you have such a pretty face. Will you let me ruin you?"

"Do whatever you want."

Momo started to give her hickeys. Roughly pressing her lips onto Mina and sucking to mark her. Mina rubbed her fingers on Momo's abs. They weren't as defined as hers but she loved them regardless.

"Your body is so precious Momo I'm so glad I can have you."

Not wanting to be left out you made your way onto the bed, being careful to not accidentally touch Mina and grabbed onto Momo's breasts while having your cock pressed against her back.

"Uh I love your hands Y/N!"

"Your breasts are so big Momo I want you so badly."

Momo had a rather big ego now that both you and Mina were fighting to give her pleasure.

Mina kicked you off the bed and wrapped her legs around Momo's waist. "Don't pay attention to him. Focus only on me."

She pulled Momo in closer and their breasts were pushed up against each other. "Mina I love you." Momo said as she reached for Mina's ass.

You got back on the bed and penatrated Momo's ass with your cock which made her yelp.

"Agh!"

"Momo are you okay?"

"I'm fine Mina."

Momo went down to Mina's breasts and started licking her nipple. "Your body tastes sweet."

"It's only for you to use Momo. Please use my body however you want."

Mina pressed her fingers on Momo's clit lightly and got Momo to moan. She felt the vibration on her nipples.

You sped up your thrusts into Momo's ass and Momo put her fingers into Mina.

"Please Momo go faster I want to cum on your pretty fingers."

Momo smiled and ran her fingers down Mina's sides. "Mina I want to enjoy your body as long as I can."

Mina was breathing rapidly.

Momo switched her attention to Mina's other nipples and started to squeeze the other.

She inserted 4 fingers into Mina and she took in a big breath of air.

"Ah! Momo keep going!"

She started to thrust in Mina at a steady pace and Mina started seeing stars.

Pulling your cock out of Momo you went next to her and pulled her head up.

"What do you-"

She wasn't able to finish speaking before you pressed your lips onto hers.

"Your lips are so soft."

You rubbed your tongue around her lips and Momo put her hand into Mina's mouth making her gag.

Mina's gagging faded into the background as your kissing intensified.

You stood on the bed aligning your cock to Momo's face. Momo took your cock in her warm mouth and ran her tongue around your hard cock.

She was sloppy with it making your cock wet and slippery making it easier to slide in and out of her mouth. You grabbed Momo's head and shoved her into your cock.

Tears ran down Momo's eyes and she was choking on your cock.

Mina wasn't happy with you stealing Momo's attention. She shoved four fingers into Momo.

She was getting overstimulated. Momo got your cock out of her mouth to get a breath of air. She choked up a lot of spit and it fell onto the bed sheets.

"Put your filthy cock back in your pants Y/N. This doesn't involve you."

Mina grabbed Momo and dragged her on top of her body wrapping her arms around her. She switched their positions so she was on top of Momo.

Putting one hand on Momo's breast and using her other hand to shove her fingers in Momo's tight pussy. Thrusting rapidly so she reaches her high faster.

"Mina your so-"

"Perfect? I know Momo don't worry you'll start seeing stars soon."

She sucked on her nipples twirling her tongue on her boob. Momo loved how Mina used her body.

"Momo your so perfect."

She came on her fingers and Mina licked her fingers. "Mhm you taste amazing Momo. I only want to eat this every day."

Momo was glad with the worship she was receiving and started to repay her. Momo put her pussy on top of Mina and shoved her fingers in her again.

Mina licked her pussy shoving her tongue deep into her. Momo couldn't handle it and gave up on thrusting in Mina and started to lick her pussy also.

This scene in front of you was making you horney to the point you started to pump your own cock to make yourself cum.

Momo came all over Mina's face. Mina squished Momo's butt while licking all of Momo's cum that she could reach with her tongue.

Not too long after Mina came all over Momo and she passed out afterwards.

"Momo that was amazing."

"I know Y/N. Want help with that?"

You nodded your head and Momo once again started sucking your cock. She used her hand to fondle your balls.

"Do you really think a three way relationship can work?"

"Of course Y/N I'm your soulmate just as much as I am Mina's."

Pulling out your cock, semen covered Momo's face.

You collapsed into her and she wrapped you around her arms collapsing onto the bed.

"I'll take care of you from now on Y/N."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Can you find out who Y/N gave his gift to?

Starring: You Mina, Momo (Twice) Karina (Aespa) Han (Stray Kids) Yeji, Lia (Itzy) Kaito (Jujutsu Kaisen Phantom Parade) RM (BTS)

I apologize if towards the end the pacing felt more rushed. I got tired of working on this and just wanted to move on.

I didn't even proof read this because I'm just so sick of this.

#twice #twice smut #smut #twice x reader #twice imagines #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #momo smut #mina smut #karina smut #aespa smut

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