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d1stalker · 9 months ago

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Origin [Logan Howlett]

Summary: Two people, one shared past, and decades apart.

Warnings: fem!reader, angst, fluff, longing, things get bad before they get better! WC: 14k - MASTERLIST

A/N: there are plot points that are inspired by Logan's origin story (thank u marvelwiki), but they are so non-canon compliant its funny so don't call me out tyyy 😙

----

Before he was known as Logan, or as Wolverine, he was James.

Your James.

—

It’s quiet in the Howlett estate, the kind of stillness that only comes when everyone has long retired for the night. But while the rest of the mansion sleeps, you remain wide awake. Dressed in your nightgown and nestled under the blankets, you glance at the small, brass pocketwatch resting on your bedside table. The hands read 10:22 PM. Any minute now, you think to yourself.

Then, like clockwork, you hear it—a faint knock on your door. Three slow, deliberate taps, followed by two quick ones. The secret signal never fails to make you smile. You spring from the bed, feet softly padding across the floor as you hurry to the door. You open it as quietly as possible, your grin widening the moment you see who’s waiting on the other side.

James.

He stands there, dark tousled hair and that familiar mischievous smile that always manages to light up the dim hallway. You’ve known him your entire life, growing up together under the roof of the Howlett estate. Your parents, both loyal servants to the Howlett family, were fortunate enough to be granted permission raise you alongside their son.

From the moment you could walk, you and James were inseparable, sharing countless adventures in the woods, running across the estate’s gardens, and whispering secrets to one another under moonlit skies.

"About time," you whisper, teasing him with a playful glint in your eyes. "You really know how to keep a lady waiting, don’t you?"

A soft snort escapes his lips as he grabs your hand, pulling you gently into the hallway. "My deepest apologies, M’lady," he replies with mock formality, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "I had to... attend to urgent business in the necessary."

You snicker, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ah, I see. Was it a fulfilling experience, sir Howlett?"

He glances over his shoulder, rolling his eyes with exaggerated exasperation, though you catch the small smirk tugging at his lips. He doesn’t respond, but his silence confirms everything. It was.

The rest of the trip is quiet, the two of you moving stealthily through the darkened corridors, careful not to disturb anyone or draw unwanted attention. After all, your mother would certainly disapprove of such late-night rendezvous. It is improper, she would say.

But what choice did you have? The day offered no time for moments like this. You were busy training to take over as the next chief maid, learning the endless routines of the household, while James spent his time with his family or other highborn friends. It was only after hours, when the mansion finally settled, that the two of you could steal away for these secret meetings.

Finally, you reach the gardens. The crisp night air greets you as you slip away from any prying eyes. There’s a familiar sense of peace here, among the fragrant flowers and the towering trees that shield you from the world. James leads you to your usual spot, a stone bench tucked beneath the shadow of the hedges. Wordlessly, he slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders before taking a dramatic bow.

"To keep you warm, M’lady," he says softly.

"Hush, James," you laugh, finding his antics endearing.

You’re grateful, especially as the cool night air nips at your exposed skin. The nightgown, while comfortable, offers little protection against the chill. You pull his jacket tighter around yourself, then pat the empty spot next to you, gesturing to him to sit, to which he does.

“How was your day?" you prompt.

James sighs, leaning back on the bench, his hand casually resting behind you as he stares up at the sky. "Same old, same old," he starts, a familiar twinge of annoyance creeping into his voice. "You know how it is. Dinners with my parents, listenin’ to old men talk about businesses I'll never care about, trying not to fall asleep while they drone on about investments or land expansions. It’s all so posh."

You stifle a giggle, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Posh? You sound like you're living the dream."

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "If by 'dream,' you mean sitting there pretending to care while wonderin’ how quickly I can escape to see you, then yeah, it's an absolute dream," he quips sarcastically.

Sniggering, you bring your hand up to your forehead, acting distressed. "Oh, how tragic. The poor Lord James Howlett, trapped in a world of lavish dinners and fancy wine. Whatever will you do?"

"Mock me all you want, but it’s unbearable," he groans, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I hate it. All the stuffy clothes, the fake smiles, the way everyone acts like they're better than everyone else." He pauses for a moment, then glances sideways at you. "You're the only real thing here."

The sincerity in his words makes your heart flutter, and you’re suddenly grateful for the darkness hiding the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. Looking away, you try to play it off. "Well, if that’s the case, I guess I should charge you for my company," you tease coyly.

He lets out a huff of amusement, shaking his head. "I'll pay whatever price you want.”

There's a pause as you both sit in comfortable silence. Just then, a soft breeze sweeps through the garden, catching the edges of your nightgown and fanning it up slightly. Before you can even react, he swiftly moves his jacket from your shoulders to your lap, covering your legs. His hand lingers, making sure you're covered before he hastily wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close against him.

The warmth from his body contrasts with the cool air, and you can't help but laugh softly at his sudden behaviour. "Wow, you really are a gentleman, James."

He tenses slightly, his grip on your shoulder loosening as he looks away, clearly flustered. "I—I just didn’t want you to get cold," he mumbles, his usual confidence faltering.

You smile at how shy he suddenly seems, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Thank you. It’s sweet."

For a brief second, he says nothing, but you can feel the way his heartbeat picks up just a little. Then, almost too quietly, he mutters, "I’d do anythin’ for you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you tilt your head to look up at him. But you can’t respond, because he clears his throat, looking down at you with a small, sheepish smile. "What about you? Any exciting adventures in the life of a future chief maid?"

Grinning, you recognize his attempt to shift the conversation, and decide to let it go for now. "Oh, you know, the usual. A thrilling day of dusting, folding linens, and trying not to spill tea on your mother’s favourite rug."

He chuckles, pulling you a little closer. "Sounds way more exciting than my day."

You hum in acknowledgement, letting the moment linger. Neither of you speak for a bit, just relishing being in each other’s presence.

"So, do tell," you say after a while, breaking the silence, "if you could get away from all the fancy dinners and boring conversations, what would you do?"

He smiles slightly, his gaze still fixed on the star-filled sky. "I’d leave. Go far away from here, maybe somewhere quiet. Live in the countryside, where no one cares about wealth or titles." His eyes drop to meet yours. "Maybe you’d come with me."

You laugh gently. "And who would take care of your family if we both ran off?"

Shrugging, his expression grows more serious. "They don’t need me. They need someone who’ll do what they want—someone to follow in their footsteps. That’s never been me."

There’s a weight in his words, and you feel a pang of sympathy for him. You’re about to respond, to tell him you understand more than he realizes, when—

BANG.

Your body stiffens instantly, heart beginning to pound in your chest as you straighten up, eyes wide.

"What the hell was that?" James asks sharply. He turns to you, his face mirroring the confusion and unease you're feeling.

Shaking your head, you swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat. "It sounded like a gunshot."

The two of you stare at each other for a beat, then, right when you’re going to speak again, you hear it—his mother’s scream. It’s high-pitched, panicked, and it sends a jolt of fear through you both.

"Help!" she shrieks from inside the mansion. "James, help!"

Without a word, you bolt to your feet, the peaceful night forgotten as you rush back inside. Your heart is racing as your bare feet fly across the grass, nightgown fluttering behind you. James is ahead of you, moving fast, his expression shifting from confusion to pure fear.

As you reach the back entrance, your mind races with possibilities, none of them good. You burst through the door into the hallway, your breathing laboured from the sudden sprint. Something is terribly wrong.

"Mother!" He calls, his voice sharp with panic as he leads the way toward the main staircase. You follow close behind, anxiety coiling tight in your chest.

Once you get to the bottom of the stairs, you hear footsteps—heavy, hurried—and then you see her. Mrs. Howlett, wide-eyed and pale, comes hurrying down from the upper floor, clutching the banister for support. Her hands are trembling.

"James!" she cries. "Your father—he’s been shot!"

The boy beside you freezes, face going white. "What?" he breathes, disbelief etched into every syllable.

"He—he was in his study, and I—I heard the gunfire. I—I don’t know what happened. I don’t know who—" Her voice breaks, and tears stream down her face as she struggles to speak. "We need to get help!"

He doesn’t waste another second, taking off up the stairs, his long strides making quick work of the distance. You trail after him. How could this happen? Who could’ve done this?

When you reach the second floor, you see the study door slightly ajar, light spilling out into the dark hallway. James' hand wavers over the doorknob for only a moment before pushing the it open wide.

Inside, the scene is worse than you imagined.

There, slumped over his desk, is Mr. Howlett. His once pristine office now looks chaotic—papers scattered, a window broken, and blood, so much blood. A crimson stain is spreading across his shirt.

"Father," James chokes out, rushing to his side, his hands shaking as he reaches for him.

You stand paralyzed for a moment, the sight rendering you speechless, but then the adrenaline kicks in, and you move further into the room. Your mind is screaming at you to do something, anything, but all you can do is watch as James desperately tries to wake his father, calling his name again and again.

Trying to make sense of the horrific scene, your attention is dragged away by the sound of footsteps shuffling behind you. Thomas Logan, the groundskeeper, stumbles in, his movements clumsy, his face twisted with drunkenness. His bloodshot eyes are manic, and in his trembling hand, he’s clutching a gun—the same one that must have been used to end Mr. Howlett’s life.

"Thomas!" Mrs. Howlett yelps. "What are you doing?"

James turns sharply, still kneeling beside his father’s body, his expression hardening immediately. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Thomas lets out a low, slurred laugh, staggering further into the room. His eyes flick between you, James, and Mrs. Howlett, but his focus remains hazy. "I’ve had enough of this, enough of all of it," he mutters, waving the gun in the air. "Your precious mother thought she could keep the truth from you. But it’s time you knew the truth, boy."

"What truth?" The younger man demands harshly.

Swaying on his feet, he points the gun directly at James, his finger twitching dangerously on the trigger. "I’m not just the groundskeeper, you idiot," he snarls venomously, "I’m your damn father."

It’s as if the room has been put on pause. You feel the air leave your lungs, your mind scrambling to make sense of what you just heard. Glancing at your friend, you see the disbelief wash over his features, his eyes widening with shock, denial.

"No," he whispers, shaking his head, backing away slightly. "You're lying. You’re drunk."

But the older man just laughs, the sound hollow and bitter. "You think John Howlett was your father? That man never wanted you! He raised you because he had to, not because you were his. You’re mine, boy. My flesh and blood,” he jerks his head in the direction of Mrs. Howlett. “Go ahead, ask your mama."

You hear Mrs. Howlett begin to blubber in the background at the accusation, but your attention is solely on the boy in front of you.

Betrayal is written all over his face.

His breath quickens, and his hands clench into fists at his sides. You want to reach out to him, concern puling you forward, but then he lets out a scream—a sound so full of pain that you stop in your tracks.

"James!" you cry, but he doesn’t seem to hear you. His eyes squeeze shut, and his body convulses, as though something inside him is tearing him apart from the inside out.

The sickening sound of skin breaking fills your ears, and bone claws shoot out from his knuckles. They gleam in the dim light of the room, sharp and lethal. The sight of them is nauseating, but you’re unable to look away as James blinks, gazing down at his hands, dumbfounded.

"What—" he rasps, his chest heaving. "What’s happening to me?"

“What the hell is this?” Thomas sneers in disgust. He stumbles, reaching for the wall to steady himself. “Figures... Of course my son’s a freak.”

“You were always a fuck-up,” he continues in his drunken rage. “Useless, soft... a disappointment from the start. Just like your mother. Look at you now, boy.”

“I’m not your boy,” James snarls through gritted teeth, rage building inside him. His eyes flash dangerously. It’s as if something inside him has snapped, some deep, instinctual part of him that has been lying dormant, waiting for this very moment.

“You’re right. You’re no son of mine. Just a goddamn mistake. Should’ve left you in the dirt with your—"

Before he can finish, a roar rips from James’s throat. So raw, so animalistic, you get goosebumps. His entire body tenses, muscles coiled, and then, with terrifying speed, he lunges.

In an instant, his claws sink deep into Thomas’s chest with a thunk. The force of the blow sends the older man crashing back, disbelief and agony seizing his face as blood sprays across the room, spattering the walls and floor. His body thrashes, his hands weakly grasping at his son’s wrists, but there’s no strength left in him.

A gurgling gasp bubbles from his throat, and then it's over. He collapses to the ground, lifeless, as James stands over him, claws retreating back into his skin.

"James!" Mrs. Howlett screams, her voice piercing. "What have you done?!"

You don’t know how to react. You can’t process it, can’t breathe. All you know is that you need to get out of here—get James out of here, away from this nightmare before it consumes him. Without thinking, you rush to his side, grabbing his bloodied hand.

"We have to go!" you say urgently.

His eyes dart to you, frantic and unfocused but he doesn’t resist as you pull him toward the door. His mother's cries echo behind you, but you can’t stop, can’t look back.

You run—both of you—through the hallways, out the back door, and into the dark of night. The wind whips around you, stinging your face, but you don’t stop. You run until your legs burn, until you’ve entered the surrounding forest, and the Howlett estate is nothing but a distant shadow behind you.

All the while, James’s hand stays locked in yours.

Branches scratch everywhere, at your arms, your face, and the underbrush tugs at your clothes as if trying to hold you back, but you push on. Only after the first light of dawn begins to creep in, does the exhaustion hit. Bodies aching and bruised, the two of you collapse beside a small stream.

You’re on your back, catching you breath, when you tilt to your head to look over at your friend. He’s sitting down, with his hands out in front of him, leering at them. He struggles for air, his breaths coming in short, panicked bursts, and his clothes are torn, stained with blood—his father’s blood, Thomas’ blood.

His claws are long retracted, but the scars of where they came out of his skin are there, fresh.

"James," you whisper, but he doesn’t respond. Slowly, you crawl over to his side, pain flaring with each movement. When you reach him, you sit on your knees, looking up at him, trying to meet his gaze. You repeat his name, more firmly this time.

He finally looks at you, but he’s broken. His lips tremble as he opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a choked, almost inaudible, "What did I do?"

Your heart aches for him. Reaching out, you gently take one of his bloodied hands in yours, and as soon as your skin touches his, he flinches, pulling back slightly. "I killed him." he whispers, more to himself than anything. “I—I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t mean to!"

"Hey, listen to me," you say. "You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known this would happen."

"I killed him," he repeats. "I killed Thomas. I—" He glances down at his hands, at the scars along his knuckles, and his expression crumples completely. “He was my father.”

You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to fix this, but you know you have to try, so you wrap your arms around him. At first, he stiffens, but then he collapses to the ground, pulling you down with him. You land on top, your chest pressed against his as the weight of your bodies crashes into the soft earth. He squeezes you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, his face buried in your shoulder as his breath comes in short, broken sobs.

"I didn’t mean to do it," he repeats, the words muffled against your skin. "Something just changed inside me. What am I? What am I turning into?"

“Hush," you whisper, moving one of your hands to brush his hair. "Look at me. Just breathe, okay? You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together, I promise."

His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer. It’s overwhelming, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you let him hold you as tightly as he needs, your fingers gently stroking the back of his head, trying to console him in any way you can.

"I’m a monster," he whimpers. "What if I hurt you, too?"

"You won’t," you affirm, lips brushing against his ear as you whisper. "You’re not a monster. This… this thing that happened, it doesn’t change who you are. You’re still you."

Beneath you, his body shakes, overcome by emotion he holds onto you. Your forehead is pressed to against his, your breath mingling with his while you continue to whisper reassurances, telling him over and over that it’s going to be okay, that he’s not alone.

Minutes pass, maybe longer—you lose track of time as you lie there together. Gradually, his cries begin to quiet, his breathing slowing as the storm inside him starts to subside. His grip on you loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go fully, still cradling you in his arms.

Shifting, you raise your head to look at him. His eyes are red, his face pale, but he’s calmer. You start to pull yourself off of him, but as you're standing up, he grasps your hand again, and he looks at you with a tired, grateful expression, squeezing it gently as if to say everything he can’t put into words yet.

Then, you continue. Hand in hand, you move deeper into the forest. And finally, after a few more hours, you notice something in the distance. Through the trees, there are rooftops, small and clustered together, their chimneys trailing thin lines of smoke into the evening sky.

“A town,” you whisper, the first word you’ve spoken in hours.

He follows your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the sight of the small mining town nestled in the valley.

In it, the people’s faces are etched with lines of hard labour and even harder lives, but still, you know you’ll be safe there.

—

Initially, it’s difficult—this new life you and James have carved out is a far cry from the comforts of the Howlett estate. The town you’ve settled in is rough and unpolished. You both share a modest shack on the outskirts, a place that feels foreign and strange, but over time, it starts to become home.

He finds work in the mines almost immediately. The foreman takes one look at him, his broad shoulders and strong arms, and practically shoves a shovel in his hand without asking any questions. The job is tough, but it suits him.

Every evening, he comes back to you covered in soot and dirt, his hands rough and calloused, his face lined with exhaustion. You can see the toll the work takes on him, how his body aches, but there’s something else too—a measure of peace that wasn’t there before. It’s as if he’s found a way to silence the chaos inside him, at least for a little while.

It’s not long before everyone in town begins to call him Logan, a name he offers with indifference when asked.

A new identity.

Logan is a man who works hard, who keeps to himself, who doesn’t ask for anything more than a paycheck at the end of the week.

Logan is a man who doesn’t need anyone, who can survive on his own.

To you, he’s still James.

In the quiet moments, when it’s just the two of you, he lets down the walls, lets you see through the façade. And when you whisper his name—James—he closes his eyes as if that one word alone soothes something deep in his soul.

After weeks of watching him silently carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, you offer him a rag to wipe his face as he sits down at the small table you’ve cobbled together from scraps. He takes it without a word, rubbing at the grime on his skin.

“You don’t have to do this forever, you know,” you say softly, leaning against the table as he tosses the rag aside. "There’s more to life than breaking your back underground."

He glances at you. "It’s all I’m good for now."

"You’re good for more than that," you reply walking up to him, reaching for his hand. He lets you take it, like he always does. "You can’t let what happened define you."

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he gives your hand a small squeeze, his eyes drifting to the floor as he mumbles, "What’s inside me… it’s different. You don’t know what it’s like."

You don’t argue. How could you?

The changes in him, the way his strength has grown, how his senses have sharpened, it all impacts him. He can hear things no one else can, smell the rain long before it falls, and even in complete darkness, he sees as clearly as if it were day. His powers are evolving, changing him.

But you know, deep down, that the man sitting in front of you is your friend—your James—no matter what he’s become.

You’ve seen him wrestle with the fear of what he might turn into, the fear of losing control, but you also see the man who leans into your touch, who lets you bandage his hands after long days in the mines, who presses his forehead to yours when the nights grow too heavy with silence.

And as your time together in the town goes by, there is a shift.

It starts with small things—a lingering glance, a brush of your fingers as you pass each other in the kitchen, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

Then, it moves to bigger gestures. When you’d pack him his lunch fo the day, you slip in a small piece of parchment with a heart hastily drawn on it, or at night time, instead of falling asleep backs turned toward each other, awkwardly trying to ignore whatever tension is brewing, you fall asleep in his arms, and wake up the same way.

It gets to a point where you can neither of you can deny it.

You’ve fallen in love.

—

It’s late, and you’re sitting by the fire outside the small cabin, waiting for him to return from one of his now-frequent disappearances into the woods. You used to worry about where he went, afraid he was distancing himself from you, so one night you followed him. What you found took your breath away—him, sitting out on a ledge, with some wild animals surrounding him. There was something in him that they must have recognized, a mutual respect that seemed to transcend anything human.

Since then, you’ve let him go without asking questions, trusting that those nights in the woods bring him the peace he can’t find anywhere else. But tonight, when he returns, he’s different. He doesn’t just brush past you to head inside. Instead, he sits beside you by the fire.

You turn to him, about to ask if everything’s alright, but the words catch in your throat when his hand cups your jaw. His grip is gentle, hesitant, as if he’s afraid to break the moment, but in his eyes, you find a longing, a yearning, that mirrors your own.

His thumb brushes over your cheek, and for the first time in a long time, there’s no hesitation in his movements. Your heart stutters, and when he pulls you closer, you let him. His lips meet yours, careful at first, but as you kiss him back, you feel the stress drain from his body.

The kiss deepens, slow, tender, and everything you’ve ever wanted.

—

The next few years are a kind of peaceful bliss you never expected. With each passing day, you and Logan seem to fall deeper into each other, the bond you share growing stronger, more intimate, like you’ve finally found the rhythm of the life you were always meant to have together.

Mornings are your favourite. He always wakes up first, moving quietly so as not to wake you, and he’s gotten into the habit of making you breakfast. You always sneak out of bed and snake your arms around him from behind, pressing your face into his back as he grumbles about you not getting enough sleep. “You’re always up too early,” he’d say.

“I like being up with you,” you’d mumble in response, and he’ll turn around, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his eyes soft and full of that quiet, steady love he’s never really put into words. And then he’d kiss you like he has all the time in the world, even if he has to head over to the mines.

On your days off from your job at the pub, you’ll spend hours together, finding little ways to enjoy the simplicity of your life. He will sometimes take you out to the woods behind the house, where you’d walk the trails together. He points out the different wildlife, the plants you don’t recognize, and you tease him about being a mountain man. He’d smirk, giving you that low, raspy chuckle that never fails to make your heart seize in your chest, and tug you closer to his side.

In the evenings, oftentimes, you sit together while you knit, something that started as a hobby but quickly became one of your preferred pastimes. He always pretends to be uninterested, but he’ll watch you anyway. “You’re getting good at that,” he’d say gruffly.

“Want me to make you a sweater?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he’d grumble, but you can tell he’s secretly pleased at the idea.

The town itself becomes part of your life together, too. You’ve made friends with the locals, joining a small knitting club. If he has time, Logan drops by the pub on your shifts just to check in, sitting at the bar with a beer and watching you work. When your gazes connect very now and then, he gives you that look—the one that says he’s proud of you, that he’s content.

“We’ve got a good thing here,” he murmurs one night, holding you close.

“Yeah,” you agree softly, kissing his cheek. “We really do.”

But, all good things must come to an end.

The mining town, though small and isolated, isn’t immune to the tensions that fester beneath the surface. Harsh conditions, grueling work, and the endless grind wear people down, turning frustration into anger, and anger into violence. Fights break out often, especially in the saloon after a long day when men try to drown their sorrows in whiskey. You both have learned to keep your distance from such skirmishes, knowing nothing good ever comes from getting involved.

Still, one night, as you return home from your evening shift at the pub, you hear the unmistakable sounds of a brawl breaking out in the middle of the street. Shouts reverberate through the cold air, followed by the crash of breaking glass. Your heart races as you recognize the deep, guttural growl cutting through the noise—a sound you know all too well.

On impulse, you rush toward the commotion, dread pooling in your stomach. You know this won’t end well. Not here. Not for him.

When you reach the scene, your worst fears are confirmed. He stands in the centre of the chaos, fists clenched at his sides. Two men circle him, their faces twisted with drunken aggression, goading him. The small crowd that’s gathered seems almost entertained, too caught up in the spectacle to understand the true danger festering.

“James!” you shout, trying to get his attention, but to no avail.

One of the men—a burly miner you’ve seen around town a few times, always looking for trouble—lunges forward, his fist swinging. The punch connects with your man’s jaw, hard enough to stagger him back, but instead of falling, you see something shift in Logan’s expression. His eyes darken, his jaw tightens. Then, his claws slowly begin sliding out of his knuckles.

The crowd gasps, and the laughter dies immediately.

“Don’t come any closer,” he growls, his voice low and full of warning. His chest heaves as he struggles to keep control, but you can see the fire burning behind his eyes. He’s on the edge, teetering dangerously close to losing himself.

But the miner, too drunk and furious to notice or care, spits on the ground. “Freak!” he slurs, venom lacing every word. “You think you scare me?”

He charges at Logan again, fists swinging recklessly. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you scream for him to stop. But it’s too late. Logan tries to pull back, to stop what’s about to happen, but the man is too close, too fast.

Everything slows down, the world moving in fractured seconds. Claws slice through the air, meeting flesh with a sickening thud. The miner gasps, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbles, clutching at his chest where the claws have sunk deep. Blood blooms around his hands, staining the dirt beneath his feet.

And suddenly, you’re thrust back into the past. You see James as he was all those years ago, his claws dripping with blood after killing Thomas. The memory crashes into you—the look of fear on his face, the horror in his eyes, the way he stumbled back, realizing what he’d done.

Just like now.

Logan’s eyes go wide, his expression mirroring that same devastation. He steps back, staring at the miner who crumples to the ground, gasping for breath. What follows is a deafening silence, the air thick with shock and disbelief. The townspeople that had been so eager for a show now stand frozen, eyes wide, faces pale.

The man gasps one last breath, then goes still.

Logan stares at the body at his feet, his claws still extended, still dripping with the man’s blood. His chest heaves, his breath shallow, and he mutters under his breath, barely audible, "Oh god… Not again."

You rush to his side, grabbing his arm in desperation. "Come on, let’s go home."

He doesn’t move. He’s locked in place, staring at the man he’s just killed. His hands tremble, the claws still out, and you can see the raw pain in his eyes as the reality of what’s just happened sinks in.

"I didn’t mean to," he whispers again, his voice cracking. "I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…"

—

That night, while you're sleeping, Logan makes his decision.

And when you wake up the next day, the space beside you is cold.

The shack feels too quiet, too still.

All you can do is stare at the empty spot in your bed. You tell yourself that maybe he’s outside, chopping wood or he’s already left for work. But deep down, you know.

Throwing on your boots, you don’t bother to change out of your nightclothes, and rush outside. His name is the first thing out of your mouth, sharp and desperate. "James! Logan!" Your voice barrels through the small yard, bouncing off the trees and fading into the cool morning air.

There’s no answer.

Panic grips you as you search the familiar places—around the shack, the small trail he likes to take into the woods, by the creek where he often spends time when he needs to clear his head. There’s no sign of him.

No footprints, no lingering scent. Nothing.

The townspeople stare as you move through the streets. They know what happened. They saw the claws, the blood. And now, they see you—a reminder of the violence that tore through their quiet lives. But you don’t care about their judgment right now. You’re too focused looking for him, too frantic to worry about the whispers that follow in your wake.

"Have you seen him?" you ask one of the miners who had once shared a drink with him, but he shakes his head and pulls away from you, muttering something under his breath. Everybody keeps their distance, their faces closed off, avoiding your gaze.

By the time the sun climbs higher in the sky, the truth settles in your chest like a heavy stone. He left. You wander the streets a little longer, until exhaustion finally forces you back to the shack.

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t even leave a note. The man who you shared your life with, who you fell in love with, is gone—and he isn’t coming back.

In the days that follow, everything changes. The people who once greeted you with a nod or a smile now avert their eyes when you walk by. They speak in hushed tones, voices thick with suspicion and disdain.

Nobody cares that you had nothing to do with what happened in the street that night. To them, you’re guilty by association.

It starts slowly, but the gossip spreads like wildfire. Saying thinks like: you knew what Logan was all along, that you hid his secret, allowed him to kill their men. Their anger turns to you, and before long, you become the pariah—cut off, unwelcome, the person responsible for the death of one of their own.

The day they decide to exile you is gray and heavy, the sky thick with the promise of rain. No one has the decency to say it to your face. Instead, you wake to a note slipped under your door, the word leave scrawled across it in angry, uneven letters.

You pack what little belongings you have—a few clothes, some keepsakes from the life you left behind at the Howlett estate—and sling a small bag over your shoulder. Then, you walk away without looking back.

Stretching out before you is a desolate, abandoned looking road. Your legs ache with every step, your feet blistering inside your boots, but you don’t stop. The memories of Logan, the town, the life you tried to build together swirl in your mind.

The sound of a a horse whinnying pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to see a carriage approaching. The coachman—a man with kind eyes and a weathered face—slows as he pulls alongside you. His voice soft and cautious as he asks, "Need a ride?"

Nodding, you’re too exhausted to respond with words, and climb into the passenger seat. He doesn’t ask many questions, sensing perhaps that you’re a soul in need of silence more than conversation. He drives in quiet companionship, the horses' feet against the dirt the only sound breaking the stillness.

He takes you to the nearest town, dropping you off with a quiet wish for better days ahead. You thank him and give him a few coins. You’re standing on the edge of a new beginning, unsure of where to go next but knowing, with painful certainty, that the past is behind you now.

—

In this new place, you slowly begin to rebuild what you’ve lost. It isn’t easy—there are nights when the loneliness threatens to swallow you whole and days when the weight of losing your best friend feels too much to bear. Still, you find work at a small shop, rent a modest room in the quieter part of town, and painstakingly, you carve out a new existence.

Though no matter how hard you try to move forward, he’s always there. A shadow, lingering in the corners of your mind. You can’t forget him—the way he looked at you with those intense, searching eyes, the way he held you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, the way he left without a word. Your entire childhood, your early adulthood, revolved around him. He was the best part of your life. Every moment spent with him was cherished, imprinted in your memory like a brand you can’t erase.

Nights are the hardest. When the world is quiet, and it’s just you and your thoughts, that’s when the ache becomes unbearable. Each night, your mind drifts back to him. You tell yourself it wasn’t his fault—he must have believed he was protecting you by leaving.

Maybe he thought you would hate him for killing another man with his claws, for unleashing the violence he tried so hard to contain. Maybe he thought you could never forgive him.

But the more you think about it, the more you realize: if he truly believed that, then he didn’t know you at all.

And that hurts. A lot.

You start to feel like him in some ways, burdened by secrets and anger with nowhere to go. More often than not, you slip out of the town in your nightgown and into the nearby forest, hoping the solitude will offer some kind of peace. It doesn’t, not really, but it’s better than suffocating in your room, choking on memories of what was and what could have been.

—

A year passes since the night he left, and you find yourself standing among the trees once again, lost in thought. It’s not fair—none of it is. You lost everything, and for what? Because you loved him? Because you could look past his mutation?

All of the emotions you’ve done a decent job at managing bubble to the surface, a torrent of grief and rage with nowhere to go. Mindlessly, you draw back your fist and slam it into the trunk of a nearby tree. The impact shoots a sharp pain through your arm, but it’s fleeting, drowned out by the rush of anger. You pull back to punch the tree again, harder this time, desperate for some kind of release.

But the tree doesn’t just splinter. It explodes.

The force of your punch obliterates the trunk, sending shards of wood flying in all directions. You stagger back, staring at the destruction, stunned. What was just a tall, beautiful arbor is now reduced to nothing but rubble, the strength of your blow far beyond anything a normal person could achieve.

Your breath hitches when it dawns on you. You’re standing in the middle of the forest, surrounded by the evidence of your newfound power. You aren’t just grieving the loss of Logan anymore; you’re discovering that you are, just like him, a mutant.

Except, unlike him, you’re alone.

He’s not here to hold you, to help you make sense of what’s happening. He’s not here to run away with you like you once ran away with him. You have no one to share this terrifying revelation with. You have only yourself.

Looking down at your trembling hands, the faint ache in your knuckles nothing compared to the pain in your chest. It’s as if your heart is breaking all over again.

If you had known—if you had discovered this power when he was still with you—would things have been different? Would he have taken you with him? Would you still be together?

You can’t stop the questions, can’t silence the what-ifs that plague you.

Finally, the dam breaks, and you cry.

Pressing your fists against your eyes, you try to stifle the sobs, but it’s no use. The grief crashes over you in waves as the life you tried to build together all plays out in your mind like some twisted, unending loop.

—

The days bleed into one another.

Each is marked by the slow, steady march of time. You continue to live, to survive, but the discovery of your mutant powers changes everything, setting you on a path you had never imagined.

You learn that you can channel energy through your body, whether that be your emotions, or external, and then amplify it for your own gain. It’s a power that protects you, that makes you feel invincible, but the more you use it, the more distant you become from the life you once knew.

And then there’s the other side of your mutation—the ability to heal others by absorbing their injuries.

The first time you did it, it was an accident.

You were closing up shop, and as you walked along the cobblestone roads, you saw a man lying face down. Instinctively, you quickened your pace, and crouched down beside him. Was he drunk? Dead? Gently, almost hesitantly, you reached out, placing your hand on his back with the faint hope that he was simply unconscious. Your intention was simple—just to check if he was breathing, to see if he would stir at your touch.

But the moment your fingers brushed his coat, a violent surge of pain exploded in your mind, like a thunderclap within your skull. The agony was so sudden, so sharp, that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

It was more than pain—it was as though the man’s suffering had become yours, pulling you into his darkness. Your vision blurred, and for an instant, you could feel it. Blood. Hot and sticky, trickling down your forehead in a slow, steady stream. You raised a trembling hand to wipe it away, expecting to feel the warmth of it on your fingertips.

But there was nothing. No blood. No wound.

Just the phantom sensation of pain that wasn’t your own.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain vanished. You blinked, gasping for air, trying to steady yourself. When you looked down at the man again, he was stirring, groaning softly. His eyes fluttered open, and he sat up, as if waking from a long sleep. He looked up at you, confused but grateful, oblivious to the power you had just unleashed.

It feels like a curse, the pain of others transferring to you in ways that leave you gasping for breath. But over time, you learn to control it, to take on only as much as you can handle, and to let the rest fade away.

You never stay too long in one place. Town after town, you move, always careful to keep your powers hidden. The people you encounter are kind enough, but you never allow yourself to get close. You can’t afford to—not when the memory of him still haunts you, his absence a constant ache in your heart.

What if they leave you too?

Every now and then, there are some nights of passion with a stranger, but you never find another lover, never allow yourself to even consider it.

As the years slip by, and you move through life like a ghost, always on the fringes, never fully there. In the beginning, you don’t notice it—time is something you stopped paying attention to long ago. But then, one day, nearly ten years after he left, you catch sight of yourself in a mirror.

Your reflection stares back at you, unchanged, unmarked by the years that have passed. It’s as if time has forgotten you, leaving you suspended in a state of perpetual youth. This knowledge—that you could live indefinitely—fills you with a sense of purpose you haven’t felt in years.

So, when the First World War breaks out, you volunteer as a nurse, determined to use your abilities to save as many lives as you can. The troops who come to you are broken, their bodies ravaged by the horrors of war. You take their pain into yourself, healing them with a touch, until there is nothing left but faint scars—a reminder of what they have survived.

It’s during the Second World War that you first hear the rumours. Injured men speak in hushed tones of a man they saw—a soldier who seemed invincible, fighting with a ferocity that borders on the inhuman. They talk of claws—long, sharp claws that can cut through anything, and a healing ability that allows him to shrug off injuries that would kill anyone else.

Could it be him? Could he still be out there, after all these years?

You dismiss the thought almost as quickly as it comes. It can’t be. He would be dead by now, just like everyone else from your past.

He is gone, and you are alone—that’s the truth you’ve come to accept.

—

Somewhere along the way, you meet Charles Xavier. You don’t know how, but he knows you. He knows you’re a mutant—how you helped in the war. And he wants you to join his team.

You’ve spent so long on your own, relying on your powers to survive, that the idea of joining a team feels foreign, almost impossible. But there’s something in his eyes, something in the way he speaks of his vision for the future, that resonates with you. This isn’t just about survival—it’s about making a difference, about using your powers to protect those who can’t protect themselves.

And, perhaps, it’s also about finding closure.

Maybe you can help mutants who struggle with their identity, like he did. Maybe this time, you can stop them from running away from themselves, the way you wish you could have stopped him.

So you agree.

And when you arrive at the mansion, you’re introduced to the others who will become your teammates—Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Ororo Munroe.

The early days are challenging. Learning to work as a team, to trust one another, isn’t easy, especially for you, after so many years of solitude. But a camaraderie that develops between all of you, and it feels right. You’re no longer just a group of shunned mutants—you’re a family, united by a common goal.

—

This mission is supposed to be simple—investigate a remote facility rumoured to have ties to illegal mutant experimentation. Charles had briefed the team before sending you out, warning that there might be danger but nothing you couldn’t handle as a group. You’ve faced threats before, so when you arrive at the facility, it’s with the usual caution but no real alarm.

The structure looks forsaken at first glance, the exterior covered in years of grime, windows cracked and dark. But as you all approach, something feels wrong. There’s an energy in the air, a hum of activity beneath the surface. You can sense it, and by the looks of the others, they feel it too.

“We should be careful,” Scott mutters lowly as his hand hovers near his visor.

Jean furrows her brows. “I’m sensing...something. There are people here. This place isn’t empty”

Your stomach twists, and once the team cautiously makes its way deeper into the facility, you start to hear it—the muffled sounds of machinery, the low hum of voices, and then...a scream.

You freeze.

You’ve heard that scream before, in the dead of night, in memories you’ve tried to bury.

James.

Without thinking, you push forward, your body moving on instinct as you race toward the source of the sound. The others call after you, but their voices fade into the background as panic claws at your chest.

The scream grows louder, more desperate, until you burst into a large chamber. And there, in the center of the room, suspended in a tank of bubbling liquid, he is.

His body is thrashing against the restraints that bind him, wires and tubes connected to his skin. Machines whir around him, injecting something into his body—something molten, silvery.

A team of scientists in lab coats and armed guards surround the tank, all of them focused on the cruel procedure unfolding before your eyes.

You can barely breathe. The sight of him, after all these years—being tortured like this is too much. Pain and rage surge through you, and before you realize what’s happening, you’re moving again.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you scream.

The guards whirl toward you, but you’re already on them. The first one goes down with a single blow, your fist connecting with his chest and sending him flying into the wall. You barely register his body crumpling to the floor before you move on to the next.

Behind you, Jean and Scott rush in, their powers flashing as they help subdue the remaining guards, but your focus is on the man in the tank, whose eyes are squeezed shut in pain, body convulsing. You can’t think straight—you can only feel the overwhelming need to make this stop, to save him before the experiment finishes.

But it’s too late.

In a roar of destruction, he breaks free from the tank, glass and metal exploding outward in every direction. His eyes are wild, erratic, his mind lost to the pain and the transformation—he’s a force of nature now. A whirlwind of violence and fury.

You try to reach him, but Jean steps forward, her eyes glowing as she raises a hand. “I’m sorry,” she strains. Her telekinetic force slams into him, knocking him off his feet, and his body crumples to the ground, unconscious, the rage finally quieted.

Standing there, panting, your hands are shaking as you stare at his still form. You’re overwhelmed—by the sight of him after so many years, by the pain of seeing him like this, by the fear that you might lose him before you even got him back.

Scott places a hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle. “We need to get him out of here.”

You nod, unable to speak, and together, the team lifts Logan’s unconscious body and carries him out of the facility. The entire time, you keep your eyes on him, terrified that if you look away for even a second, he’ll disappear. When you finally make it back to the jet, Jean lays him on a stretcher, her powers keeping him sedated for the trip back to the X-Mansion. You sit beside him, your hand hovering just above his, too afraid to touch, too afraid to hope.

The jet lifts off, and your mind races with a thousand questions.

How did he end up here? Why did they do this to him?

But above all, one thought consumes you: He’s alive.

After all these years, after all the heartache and loss, Logan—James—is still here.

—

He remains unconscious for three days, his body healing from the horrific procedure he endured. You barely leave his side, watching over him as if your presence alone could somehow anchor him back to himself. His breathing is steady, but his face—it’s both exactly the same and entirely foreign to you. He looks like the man you’ve known and loved, but it’s what is on the inside that worries you.

You swallow hard, your gaze tracing the familiar lines on his skin. Where are you, James? you think. Are you still in there?

Jean had done a body scan soon after you brought him back to the mansion, and the results confirmed your worst fears: they’ve bound adamantium to his bones and buried his personality underneath the most powerful brainwashing you’ve ever heard of.

It’s devastating. Whatever relief you’d felt—if any at all—at finding him alive is now eclipsed by the crushing reality of what he’s become.

The day he is scheduled to wake, Charles calls a meeting. The team gathers in the briefing room, and you sit quietly in your chair, replaying everything that led up to this moment.

Following a seemingly endless stretch of silence from you, Charles clears his throat. “If you’re ready, perhaps you could tell us more about your history with him. It might help us understand what we’re dealing with.”

A deep breath fills your lungs as your hands clutch the table’s edge tightly. Talking about him, about everything you’ve been through together, feels like peeling at old wounds that never really healed. But you know it’s necessary. If anyone is going to help him, they need to know the truth.

“I met Logan—James, as I used to call him—over a hundred years ago, when I was very young” you begin, and you can see the surprise ripple through the room at the admission of your age. “We grew up together. My parents were servants at the Howlett estate, and I spent most of my childhood by his side. He was my best friend… and eventually, he became so much more.” Your voice cracks, and you pause for a moment, collecting yourself.

“After a tragedy involving his family, we ran away together. We lived in a small mining town for years, trying to find some semblance of a life, but things fell apart. He left, and I—I spent years trying to forget him, but I never could. He was—is—everything to me."

Jean leans forward. “I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you,” she says softly. “But you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that when he wakes up… he may not be the man you remember, and not just because of how much time passed.”

You look up at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She hesitates, exchanging a glance with Charles before continuing. “The brainwashing they used on him wasn’t just designed to make him forget. It was meant to strip away his sense of self entirely. His mind was… broken down, piece by piece. What you saw back at the facility—his rage, his lack of control—that’s what’s left of him right now.”

Hank speaks next. “We’ll do everything we can to help him, but Jean’s right. You need to be ready for the possibility that he won’t recognize you. He might not even recognize himself.”

Nodding slowly, your heart sinks further and further with each word.

“We have tools, ways to work through the brainwashing,” he continues, “but it will take time. And patience.”

“Time,” you echo quietly. “I’ve already waited so long.”

Ororo reaches across the table, her hand hovering near yours. “I know this is overwhelming. But you don’t have to do this alone. We’re here to help.”

“I need to see him,” you whisper, your voice firmer than before. “When he wakes up, I need to be there.”

Charles nods gently. “Of course.”

—

When he finally stirs, it’s not a gentle awakening. His whole body jerks, his head whipping around in wild confusion. His breaths come in sharp, uneven gasps, and his eyes dart frantically across the room, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings, and just as his eyes finally land on you, he freezes.

And for a long moment, neither of you speak.

There’s a lump in your throat, and you wait with a bated breath for some flicker of recognition in his eyes, some sign that he remembers you—that he knows you.

But it never comes.

Instead, his gaze narrows, studying you. “Where the hell am I?” he grunts. “And who are you?”

It hurts more than you expected. You knew this might happen—Jean and Charles had warned you—and you thought you had prepared yourself, but it doesn’t make hearing it any easier.

He doesn’t remember you.

“Just take it easy,” you manage to say softly. “You’ve been through a lot, James.”

His eyes flicker with confusion as he shifts in the bed, wincing at the movement. "James?" he questions.

You quickly correct yourself. "Logan."

His hand instinctively goes to his chest, fingers brushing against his side as if testing for wounds that aren’t there anymore. “What is this place?” he asks again.

“You’re at the X-Mansion,” you explain. “You were... rescued. We brought you here to heal.”

“Rescued.” he repeats dryly. “From what?”

You hesitate, unsure how much to tell him. How do you explain everything—the horrors of Weapon X, the brutal experiments, the torture that nearly destroyed him? You can’t even bring yourself to speak the full truth, not yet.

“You were taken,” you say carefully. “By people who wanted to use you for something terrible. But we got to you before they could. You’re safe now.”

Logan lets out a short, bitter laugh, though there’s no humour in it. “Safe,” he mutters, his voice low and sarcastic. “Right.” He rubs a hand across his face.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing somethin’?” he mutters, his irritation growing. “Like... like there’s something important I should remember.”

Swallowing hard, your heart twists at his words. He is missing something. But you won’t tell him that now. He’s already grappling with so much, and the last thing he needs is the weight of your shared past thrust upon him before he’s ready.

“Don’t worry about it.” Your voice is gentle, coaxing. “It’s... normal to feel confused right now.”

Frowning, he runs a hand through his hair. “Like I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” you say softly. “But it’ll get better. You’ll remember in time.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if he’s searching for answers that aren’t there. After a moment, he sighs, his eyes returning to yours. “Alright. Who are you, really?” he asks. “Why do I feel like I should know you?”

Because we grew up together.

Because we were everything to each other.

Because you were the one person I never stopped loving.

“Just focus on resting,” you say, forcing a soft smile.

He studies you briefly, as if trying to figure out whether or not to trust you. Then finally, he nods, thought you can tell he’s still wary “Yeah... okay.”

The awkward silence returns.

“I should go,” you murmur, standing abruptly. The chair scrapes against the floor, the sound jarring in the quiet room. “You need rest.”

He doesn’t stop you, doesn’t ask you to stay. He just watches as you turn toward the door, and leave.

Your chest tightens painfully as you walk out of the room, the familiar ache of loss settling in once more. It’s worse this time, though—worse because he’s alive, and yet, in every way that matters, he’s gone.

You leave the room in a daze, your mind swirling with a storm of emotions. Your feet carry you down the hall, and before you realize what’s happening, you find yourself in the washroom.

The moment the door clicks shut, your stomach lurches. You barely make it a toilet before you’re retching. Tears sting your eyes, and you brace yourself against the cold porcelain, gasping for breath as your body shakes with sobs.

Standing up and flushing, you walk over to the sink, and press your forehead against the mirror. How did it come to this? You found him, after all these years, but the person in that bed isn’t the Logan—it isn’t the James—you once knew.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you try to pull yourself together. It's not the time to breakdown, you think, and after splashing some water on your face, you turn toward the exit.

Pushing open the door, you’re met with the familiar gaze of Ororo. She stands in the hallway, her white hair cascading down her shoulders, her eyes filled with something that feels like both understanding and pity.

Your eyes widen, caught off guard, not expecting to see anyone, least of all her.

“I saw you come in here,” she whispers empathetically, “but thought you might need a moment.”

You pause, trying to blink away the redness in your eyes, trying to pretend you’re stronger than you feel. But she sees through it. She always has.

“I’m fine,” you say, the words slipping out automatically.

Stepping closer, her gaze softens as she studies your face. “No,” she disagrees, “you’re not.”

The vulnerability you’ve been trying to keep at bay rushes forward again, threatening to swallow you whole. You open your mouth to argue, to brush it off, but the moment you meet her eyes, the words die in your throat. The pity, the compassion—it’s too much.

Silently, she reaches out, her hand resting lightly on your arm. It’s a small gesture, but it feels grounding.

“I saw him,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “He doesn’t remember me.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

—

The next few days are a blur. You keep yourself busy—too busy—hoping that constant movement will keep the gnawing ache at bay. If you let yourself stop, if you let yourself think about what’s happened, the hurt would consume you, so you don’t stop.

Most of your time is spent in your room or the garden, taking refuge in the places where you can hide from everything, everyone.

Sometimes, you train, pushing your body past its limits in a desperate attempt to silence your thoughts. Every hit you land, every punch you throw, never feels like enough.

It’s easier this way, you tell yourself. Easier to avoid him, to pretend he never came back into your life. Because the alternative—watching him live here, knowing he doesn’t remember you, doesn’t understand what you once shared—that’s too painful.

You’d rather pretend he’s still a memory than face the reality that the man you love is here, but not really.

When you walk through the mansion, you see him from afar. You can’t help but notice how he’s begun to soften around the others, how the confused man who woke up in that bed is slowly adjusting to life at the mansion. He has daily appointments with Charles, who you imagine is sifting through his mind, doing his very best to retrieve something, anything.

While there is still a distance in his eyes, still a guarded edge to him, but you can see the small shifts—the way he listens when someone speaks, the faintest hint of a smile when Hank tries to crack a joke.

And sometimes, your eyes meet.

From across the room, you’ll catch him watching you. In those moments, your heart skips a beat, wondering if there’s a reason why he’s zeroed in on you specifically, but then he looks away, and it passes. You never approach him, never ask him how he’s feeling or if he’s starting to remember anything. You’re too afraid of the answer.

One night, you sit in the garden, letting the soft breeze play with your hair, eyes closed.

“Mind if I sit here?”

The voice startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyelids flutter, and as you turn, your heart jolts upon seeing Logan standing at above you. And momentarily, it’s like you’re teenagers again—sneaking out at night into the gardens to talk.

“Sure,” you nod, gently patting the space beside you, as you always did.

He steps closer and sits down, though not without leaving a small space between the two of you. “I’ve been seeing you around,” he says after a beat.. He doesn’t look at you, his gaze focused on the flowers in front of him. “But... you’ve been avoidin’ me, haven’t you?”

A small laugh escapes you, bitter and self-deprecating. “You noticed, huh?”

“Yeah, not much gets past me. Even that one guy’s attempts at being a leader.”

Despite yourself, you snort. “Scott?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s too easy. Guy looks like a human stoplight with those stupid glasses.”

You bite back a snicker, feeling like a teenager again. The banter, the lighthearted teasing—it makes it seem like maybe, just maybe, there’s still something left of the man you knew.

He turns his head slightly, his expression growing more serious. “You know, I’ve been trying to figure it out,” he says, quieter now. “Why it feels like something’s missing. Every time I see you... I know you’re related to it.”

Shifting a little to look at him, you take in the way his facial hair is a little bit more kempt, how he still has his hair tufts. You miss him, and he’s right here with you.

“I... thought it would be easier,” you admit, staring down at your hands. “For both of us. If I kept my distance. I didn’t want to add to your stress.”

Frowning, his brows furrow as he processes your words. “Add to it? How?”

“Because you don’t remember me,” you say softly. “And I didn’t want to be a reminder of something you can’t recall.”

He stares at you for a long moment. Then, “you’re right. I don’t remember everything,” he says slowly, “but I know there’s something about you.”

You nod, your throat tight, but you don’t push him. You know it’s only a matter of time before the pieces fall into place. “You’ll remember,” you whisper. “I know it.”

He grunts. “I don’t want you to keep your distance.”

“I won’t. Not anymore.” The idea of him wanting to spend more time with you, fills you with joy.

—

For the next few weeks, it becomes a quiet routine—the nightly conversations in the garden. It’s like slipping into an old rhythm, the two of you always finding a way to gravitate toward each other once the sun goes down. You talk about small things, but it's never too heavy. Sometimes he teases you, and you tease him back, exchanging sarcastic quips. Nothing and everything has changed at the same time.

You’ve started training together too, spending more and more time together each day. It’s almost as if there’s a magnet between you that not even time could weaken.

This night, you’re in the gym together on the sparring mat. It’s the usual scenario playing out—dodging, blocking, throwing punches. He’s fast and strong. And it means a lot to see you see him finally embrace his mutant powers and use them, rather than try to hide and run.

You’re both breathing hard, the exertion pushing your bodies to their limits. You land a solid kick to his side, and he grunts, stepping back for a moment. Without warning, his claws extend, and your gaze locks in on them.

Of course you know about the adamantium, but seeing it like this, so up close, it’s different.

“What?” Logan asks, noticing your sudden stillness. His brow furrows, and he glances down at his claws, as if he’s only just realizing they’re out. “What are you staring at?”

“Does it hurt?” you question, clearing your throat. “When they come out?”

He tilts his head, his gaze flicking between you and his claws. “Everytime” he sighs. “But not as much as the old ones.”

Your eyes snap up from his claws to meet his. “... What?” you ask. The old ones?

“They were bone,” he continues, “Hurt like a bitch.”

Your heart starts pounding in your chest. Could this be it? Could he be remembering?

Stepping closer, your voice trembles slightly as you push for more. “What else do you remember?”

His eyes widen, and then he blinks, his stare glazing over for a second, like he’s trying to chase down a memory that’s just out of reach.

“I… I don’t know,” he admits with a bit of frustration. His claws retract, his hand flexing unconsciously as he stares at the empty space where the blades once were. “It’s all bits and pieces. I get these flashes, but nothing sticks. Charles said... he said the barriers in my mind are comin’ down, but it’s slow. Like finding a damn needle in a haystack.”

But the fact that he remembers even a sliver, is enough to fill you with hope.

—

This continues, the small fragments of memories coming back to him. They come unexpectedly, at random times in the day. It’s never anything big, never the full flood of memories you’re hoping for, but each time it happens, it feels like another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

You suggest a walk one afternoon. The mansion has felt a little too closed in lately, and you think maybe the fresh air might help clear his mind. Together, you wander along a little pathway that connects the mansion to a nearby river, the sound of the water in the distance a soothing backdrop as you walk side by side. He’s quiet, more so than usual, and as you glance at him, you notice his expression has grown distant.

“Logan?” you ask softly, nudging his arm. “What’s on your mind?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. His brow is furrowed, like he’s trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle, his thoughts distant, swirling. “I remember…” he starts, his voice quiet, as if he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

Your fingers begin to twitch at your side. Every time he remembers something, it feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if he’ll fall into the past, if this will be the moment he remembers it all.

“A cabin,” he says finally, his voice rough but certain. “There was a shack. In a small town. I used to stay there.”

You nod, urging him to continue, anticipated building within your chest. “Go on.”

“It was small. Cold most of the time. But I don’t think I cared.” He lets a chuckle. “I liked it. Felt... peaceful.”

You can’t help but smile a little at the memories he’s bringing up. His steps falter, and he stops in the middle of the path, turning to look at you. “Mining,” he mutters, as if the word itself is triggering something. “I remember mining.”

“That’s good,” you say. ‘I’m happy for you.”

—

The memories keep coming.

You’re in the mansion, passing through one of the long hallways together on your way to eat, when he suddenly stops, his hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall. You turn, concern flooding through you. “Are you okay? What is it?”

He frowns, his eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to force something into focus. “There was a girl.”

“A girl?” you repeat, not wanting to push him but unable to stop the question from spilling out.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “In a big house—like a mansion, I think. We'd play together. She was... she was always following me around. Always gettin’ into trouble.”

You know exactly who he’s talking about.

“Do you remember her name?”

Shaking his head, you can see the frustration etched onto his face. “No. But she must have been important, I can feel it.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you try to hold yourself together. It was me, you want to say. That little girl was me.

“It’s okay,” you say instead, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. “You’ll remember. You’re already so close.”

He looks at you then, his eyes searching yours for something—answers, reassurance. Once a few seconds pass, he sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know how you put up with this,” he grumbles lowly. “With me.”

“Because I know you,” you whisper back.

To have a chance at another lifetime with him, you’d put up with anything.

—

He’s busy with Jean and Charles this morning, the duo having started to work together last week, trying to finally break down the wall stopping Logan from recovering his memories. With nothing else to occupy you, you’ve retreated to the mansion’s library, seeking solace in the endless rows of books. The familiar smell of paper and ink is comforting, and for a while, you manage to lose yourself in the words on the page.

You’re curled up in one of the oversized armchairs, a book resting in your lap, when your ears pick up the sound of heavy footsteps—fast, purposeful, ringing out through the mansion’s quiet halls.

Concern rises in your chest. Those footsteps aren’t casual; someone is rushing, and you’ve been around long enough to know that in here, that usually means something’s wrong.

Setting the book down on the small table beside you, you stand and head toward the entrance of the library. The sound grows louder, the footsteps coming closer, and just as you reach the doorway, you collide with a solid wall of muscle.

"Ho—holy sh—" you gasp, stumbling back, startled. Your hands fly to steady yourself, and you look up, wide-eyed, to see Logan standing there. "Logan, you scared m—"

“James.”

You still.

"What?" you whisper, your mind racing as you stare at him. His face is different—not just the usual irritated-by-himself expression he’s been wearing lately, but something else. There’s a certainty in his eyes, relief and maybe even—

“My name is James,” he repeats. “I was born in Alberta. We grew up together. I... I killed my father.” His voice falters slightly at that, but he pushes through, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering. “You were the little girl in the mansion. You’ve always been there. And I—” His eyes brim with emotion. “I love you.”

The words slam into you, leaving you breathless. You can feel the blood drain from your face, your heart jumping so hard it feels like it might burst. “You... you remember?” You’re barely able to get the words out.

Logan—James—stares at you. “I remember everything.”

A sob escapes your throat, and you throw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as the floodgates open. His arms come around you immediately, holding you tight, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m so damn sorry. I should have never left. I should have gone back to find you.”

You shake your head, tears soaking into his shirt. “It doesn’t matter,” your voice breaks. “None of that matters anymore. We’re together now. That’s all I care about.”

He pulls back slightly, just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that won’t stop falling. There’s so much love—so much everything—in his eyes, your knees nearly buckle. All you do is hold on to him, as tightly as you can, afraid that if you let go, this moment will slip away.

But it won’t, because he’s really here, he remembers, and he still loves you.

For what feels like hours, you stand there in the hallway, wrapped in each other’s arms. Eventually, you take a small step back, unwrapping your arms and instead grabbing his hands, squeezing them. “We have a lot to talk about.”

He squeezes your hands back in return. “Yeah, we do.”

—

You sniffle, wiping away the last of your tears as you lie in bed with him, pressed so close it feels like you’re trying to merge into one person. His warmth surrounds you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, hands drawing small circles. It’s like all the years apart never happened, like you’re finally back where you’re meant to be.

“So, what made it all come back to you?” you ask softly, your voice a bit hoarsefrom all the crying you’ve done in the last hour.

James takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. “I guess having two strong telepaths diggin’ around in your mind will do the trick,” he responds. “Shit was brutal, but... worth it.”

Tilting his head down, he presses a small kiss to your temple. If even possible, you nestle yourself further into his hold.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” you whisper. “All those years... I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Same for me. Thought I lost you too,” James murmurs, his hand running gently up and down your back. “After I left the cabin, I tried to forget. Tried to convince myself you were better off without me, but...” He trails off. “I was wrong—a coward. I shouldn’t have been runnin’ away. Especially from you.”

You look up at him, your eyes searching his. “What did you do all those years? Where did you go?”

He lets out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. “I wandered. For a long time, I didn’t stay in one place. Fought when I had to, drank when I couldn’t forget. Got into a lot of trouble.” He grimaces slightly.

You frown. “What kind of trouble?”

“The kind where people like me aren’t supposed to be walking free,” he remarks bitterly. “I gave into the monster I thought I was.”

His words sink in, and you can feel the toll those years took on him, the way they left him scarred, not just physically, but emotionally. “It must have been so hard,” you whisper, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “Living like that, without... anyone.”

Leaning into your touch, “Yeah,” he admits. “It was. But... I didn’t know how to live any other way. Not after everything that happened.”

There’s a long pause, the two of you lying there, bodies tangled together as you both process the weight of what’s been lost and what’s been found. Then, he kisses the inside of your hand, looking at you with a faint, curious smile.

“What about you?” he asks softly, tugging you closer. “When did you... ya know, find out you were a mutant?”

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. You’ve never really talked about that part of your life to anyone, at least not in detail.

“I didn’t know for about a year,” you begin. “After you left, I was... lost. And then one day... I punched a tree.”

James raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “A tree?”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the seriousness of the memory. “Yeah. I was angry—angry at everything. And when I punched it... the damn thing exploded.”

He stares at you for a moment, processing your words. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face. “Exploded, huh? Guess that’s one way to find out you’re not normal.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, it wasn’t exactly subtle.”

His smile fades slightly. “What did you do after that?”

Taking a deep breath, you let the memories of those early days as a mutant flood back. “I tried to keep it hidden for a while. Didn’t really know what to do with it. But then... the wars started.”

Eyes narrowing, his expression changes instantly. “The wars?”

Nodding, you continue. “Yeah, the First and Second. I volunteered as a nurse. I figured if I could use my powers to help people, then maybe I could make up for everything I lost. I moved station to station, healing soldiers. I couldn’t save everyone, but I tried.”

He’s momentarily quiet, gaze never leaving yours, even as he processes what you’re telling him. Then, slowly, his features shift into disbelief.

“You were on the frontlines?” His voice low, almost incredulous. He reaches out to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.

“Yeah. I wanted to make a difference.”

Letting out a sharp breath, James sits up slightly in bed as he stares at you. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “I fought in those wars, too. In the trenches.”

You’re speechless, and the realization washes over you slowly. The whisperings you’d heard from the troops, the rumours you’d chalked up to be nothing more than drunken tales, suddenly come flooding back. A man who couldn’t be killed, who healed from every injury, who fought with claws that could tear through anything.

It was him.

It was always him.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “So it was true…all those rumours about the man who couldn’t die... that was you.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Guess it was.”

All those years, all those battles... and you were both there, so close, yet so far apart.

“We were so close,” you say, moving forward in to give him a kiss. “And we didn’t even know it.”

He kisses you back, his grip on you tightening. Then, when you pull away, he sighs, leaning back against the headboard. “It’s all so different now,” he begins gruffly. “You’re not the little maid in training anymore, runnin’ around that mansion, worried about getting caught”

You smile faintly at the memories of your younger selves, the girl you used to be, and the boy who was so much more to you than just a young lord.

“And you’re not sir James Howlett or whatever—Lord—anymore” you tease. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who used to sulk in the garden because he had to attend another dinner party.”

He lets out a noise that sounds like a mix between a huff and a laugh “Yeah,” he agrees. “That feels like a lifetime ago. And in a way, I guess it was.”

While neither of you are the same people you once were, in this moment, you can feel that connection—the one that has always been there.

“I’ve thought about you every day,” he speaks up again. “All those years.”

“James…”

“I love you,” he confesses. “And I’ve loved you my whole life. Before we ran away, after I left, even after I thought you were gone... I couldn’t forget. Didn’t want to.” He sucks in a harsh breath, grabbing your hand once more. “I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed. We could’ve figured it out together, but I was so... so damn scared. I thought if I stayed, I’d only hurt you.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes again. “You did what you thought was right,” you whisper, intertwining your fingers. “You were scared, and so was I.”

“I wish I could take it all back,” he says, regret bleeding into his tone. “I wish I could’ve been there for you... We could’ve had so many more years together.”

“We have time now,” you say softly, assuring him. “We have all the time in the world to make up for it.”

He doesn’t respond verbally, but rather he edges forward, brushing his lips softly against yours. “I love you,” he murmurs before closing the gap completely, kissing you passionately.

You smile against his lips, because while he may be known as logan, or Wolverine, he’s still James.

Your James.

----

A/N: I'm going to have to either write some crazy smut or excessive fluff now because this took it out of me LOL also I hope none of you got confused with the name switching! Thank you so much for reading <3

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jupiterpilgrim · 19 days ago

Text

Heaven for Three

Yujin x Rei x male reader

word count: 20K

Okay, so here you are: standing in the middle of Yujin’s apartment, your heart is doing a weird drum solo against your ribs, a frantic beat mixing anticipation and a touch of nervous energy. It’s been almost two fucking months. Sixty-three days, if you’re counting, and yeah, you’ve counted every single one. Sixty-three days of shitty time zones, glitchy video calls that froze her face mid-laugh or mid-sentence, and texts that always felt like they were missing something vital, like her touch, her scent, the specific way her eyes crinkle when she’s genuinely amused. You glance at the small, ridiculously expensive cake sitting on her clean kitchen counter, next to a little pile of carefully chosen ‘welcome back’ trinkets, nothing major, just stupid inside-joke things you knew would make her smile.

A Hello Kitty keychain because you know she's obsessed with, some ridiculously flavored snacks she can only get overseas, a framed silly picture of you two from before she left, pulling faces at the camera. It feels both inadequate and excessive after so long apart. You check your phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. Her flight landed an hour ago. Traffic from Incheon can be a bitch, but she should be getting close. The lie you told her: "babe, I'm so sorry, work is chaos, I don't think I can get away until super late, maybe not even tonight", sits heavy in your gut, but the thought of the surprise wipes away the guilt. You wanted this moment, needed it, after weeks of feeling like a background character in her whirlwind life. You needed to see her face when she realized you were here... that you hadn't let the distance win.

You wander into her living room, running a hand over the back of her sofa, picturing her curled up there. God, you miss her. Not just the big moments, but the mundane shit too, arguing over what movie to watch, stealing bites of her food, the way she hums off-key when she’s cooking. The tour looked amazing, professionally, you know it was huge for her and the group, you saw the clips, the screaming crowds, the flashy stages. You were proud, genuinely. But fuck, it was hard. Every picture she posted with her members, every interview where she talked about how much fun she was having, felt like a tiny pinprick to your lonely heart, even though you knew it was irrational. You shake your head, trying to banish the insecurity.

That’s why you planned the other surprise.

One you know she'll love.

A whole week, just the two of you, cocooned away from the world in that ridiculously luxurious mountain cabin you somehow managed to book. Heated floors, private chef service if you wanted it (but you chose absolute privacy), panoramic views, and the pièce de résistance—that outdoor hot spring overlooking a snowy landscape. You grin, imagining her reaction to that. She’s going to lose her mind. You just need her to walk through the door first.

Then, you hear it. The unmistakable sound of a key scraping against the lock. Your breath hitches. Showtime. You quickly duck behind the edge of the doorway leading to the kitchen, heart pounding like crazy now. The door swings open, and you hear the clatter of a suitcase being dropped, followed by a heavy, exhausted sigh that seems to carry the weight of the entire continent she just traversed.

"Finally," Yujin mutters.

You hear her kick off her shoes, the soft thud against the floorboards echoing in the quiet apartment. She’s probably expecting to collapse onto her couch, maybe order takeout, and face the mountain of unpacking tomorrow. She definitely isn't expecting you. You hold your breath, listening to her footsteps padding further into the apartment. She rounds the corner into the living area, probably heading for the light switch, and freezes. You step out from your hiding spot, a slightly shaky grin plastered on your face.

"Surprise?"

Her eyes, wide and shadowed with tiredness beneath the brim of the baseball cap pulled low on her forehead, take a second to register you. First, confusion flickers across her face, then a flash of alarm—maybe thinking you were an intruder—before recognition dawns. Her jaw literally drops. "What the… you… how?" she stammers. The exhaustion mask cracks, replaced by pure, unadulterated shock. And then, it melts away into something else entirely, something raw and overwhelming. Her eyes well up instantly, shimmering under the dim hallway light. "You said… you couldn't…" she chokes out, taking a hesitant step towards you, then another, faster one. Before you can even reply, she closes the distance, launching herself at you with a force that nearly knocks you backward.

Her arms wrap around your neck like she’s drowning and you’re the only life raft, burying her face against your shoulder. You stagger back a step, wrapping your arms tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against you, finally feeling her solid warmth after weeks of holding pixels and air. Her scent, that familiar mix of travel staleness and her underlying sweetness, floods your senses, more intoxicating than any perfume. She’s trembling, or maybe you both are, clinging to each other desperately.

"Fuck, I missed you," she sobs into your jacket. "I missed you so much."

You just hold her tighter, burying your face in her hair, murmuring, "Me too, baby. God, me too," over and over again, unable to form more coherent words. The sheer relief of having her back in your arms is dizzying, eclipsing everything else.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. Her face is tear-streaked, her cap askew, her eyes red-rimmed but shining with a fierce, desperate joy. Her hands come up to cup your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones as if verifying you're real. "You're really here," she whispers, a watery smile breaking through. "You lied to me." There’s no heat in it, only wonder.

"Best lie I ever told," you manage.

You lean down and finally kiss her, a collision of longing and relief. It’s not gentle; it’s desperate, hungry, a reclaiming. Her lips are soft and instantly responsive, kissing you back with an equal measure of pent-up need. It’s messy and frantic, tongues tangling, hands clutching, trying to bridge the gap of the last two months in a single moment. It tastes like her, like exhaustion, like the faint saltiness of her tears, and it’s the best fucking thing you’ve tasted in sixty-three days.

You pull apart, both breathless, foreheads resting against each other. "Happy welcome home," you whisper against her lips. She lets out a shaky laugh, a sound that makes your heart clench. "This is… way better than takeout." She finally seems to register her surroundings, her gaze flicking past you to the cake and gifts on the counter. "And you brought cake?" A real smile, wide and bright, finally lights up her tired face. "Of course. And some other stupid stuff." You gently disentangle yourself, keeping one hand linked with hers, and lead her towards the kitchen. She picks up the ridiculous keychain, her laugh louder this time. "You remembered!" She hugs it to her chest like it's treasure before eagerly tearing into the snacks. You watch her, contentment washing over you. Seeing her here, safe, happy, touching the silly gifts you brought… It feels like clicking back into place.

She’s halfway through a weirdly flavored chip, eyes drooping slightly as the adrenaline rush starts to fade, replaced by the bone-deep weariness of international travel. "Okay," she says, rubbing her eyes. "As much as I want to just stand here and kiss you senseless until tomorrow, I think I might actually pass out vertically." She manages a tired grin. "Bed?" You shake your head, reaching out to take the chip bag from her hand, a playful glint in your eye. "Not just yet. I have one more surprise." Her eyebrows shoot up, curiosity momentarily chasing away the fatigue. "Another one? What could possibly top you ambushing me in my own apartment?" You grab your phone, pulling up the booking confirmation for the mountain house, complete with pictures of the stunning interior, the snow-dusted peaks outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the steaming outdoor hot spring.

You turn the screen towards her. "How about a week of this? Starting tomorrow. Just you and me. No schedules, no managers, no interruptions. Our own private little world." Her eyes scan the screen, widening progressively with each photo she swipes through. The chip bag slips completely from her other hand, scattering onto the floor unnoticed. Then she looks up at you, eyes blazing with an incandescent mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy that completely obliterates any lingering trace of tiredness. "Are you serious?" she breathes. "A whole week? There?" You nod, unable to stop grinning. "Booked and paid for. Pack your warmest clothes... and maybe not much else." That last part gets you the reaction you were hoping for. She lets out an earsplitting shriek of pure happiness, jumping up and down on the spot before throwing her arms around your neck again, kissing you wildly all over your face—cheeks, nose, forehead, lips.

"Oh my god! Oh my GOD! You absolute lunatic! I fucking love you!" she laughs breathlessly against your skin. "A hot spring? Seriously? Outside? In the snow?" The tiredness is completely gone. She pulls back, grabbing your hands, her eyes dancing. "Wait, we leave tomorrow? What time? I need to pack! What should I bring? Is there snow right now? Can we go sledding? Oh my god, just us for a week…" The questions tumble out of her, fast and excited, her mind already racing ahead to the mountains, to the seclusion, to the uninterrupted time with you. The strain of the past two months, the worry, the distance, it all seems to evaporate in the face of this grand gesture, this promise of reconnection. She squeezes your hands, her face radiating pure, unadulterated bliss. The apartment, the unpacking, the jet lag are all forgotten, replaced by the dazzling prospect of the week ahead.

—

The next morning dawns bright and ridiculously early, not that either of you got much sleep. Packing is a blur of excited energy and low-key chaos. Yujin, despite her professed exhaustion just hours before, is practically bouncing off the walls, flitting between her closet and her suitcases like a hummingbird on espresso. You try to inject some calm organization, making sure essentials like chargers, toiletries, and the really warm coats make it in, while she debates the merits of bringing five different oversized hoodies versus six. "They're for comfort," she insists, holding up two nearly identical grey ones. "Crucial for optimal relaxation!" You just laugh, shaking your head and adding her favorite fuzzy socks to the pile.

Loading the car feels like a victory, the city streets gradually giving way to highways, then winding country roads. The further you drive from Seoul, the more the tension seems to drain from Yujin’s shoulders, replaced by a palpable sense of freedom. She’s got her feet up on the dashboard, a habit you usually nag her about, but not today, scrolling through playlists, and chattering away. She tells you about the last few gigs, the roar of the crowd in Manila, the weird hotel food in Jakarta, the sheer relief when they nailed that difficult choreography transition during the final encore in Bangkok. She doesn’t dwell on the negatives, but you can read between the lines; the gruelling schedule, the lack of sleep, the constant pressure...

"Honestly," she sighs, leaning her head back against the seat, eyes closed for a moment, "by the end, I was just running on fumes and caffeine. Seeing the fans is amazing, always, but… fuck, I needed this. Needed you."

She reaches over, her hand finding yours on the center console, fingers intertwining tightly. "I just want to... melt. No schedules, no makeup unless I feel like it, just… exist. With you." Her thumb strokes the back of your hand, sending little shivers up your arm despite the car's heating blasting. You squeeze her fingers, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

"Melting is the primary objective for the week, Captain."

She grins, her eyes sparkling. "Aye aye."

The landscape transforms dramatically as you climb higher, tarmac roads turning into gravel tracks, the air growing crisp and smelling faintly of pine. Eventually, the road becomes impassable for the car. "End of the line," you announce, pulling into a small, designated clearing barely big enough for one vehicle. "Time for phase two." You both bundle up in layers; thermal wear, thick sweaters, insulated jackets, hats, gloves. The air bites at your exposed cheeks the moment you step out of the car's warmth. It’s invigorating. You haul your backpacks and duffels from the trunk, the silence profound, broken only by the wind whispering through the tall trees and the distant chirping of unseen birds. The path forward is marked but looks barely used, winding uphill through dense woods dusted with a layer of yesterday’s snow that crunches satisfyingly under your boots.

It's not a hardcore trek, but it's enough to get your blood pumping and reinforce the delicious feeling of isolation. Yujin, surprisingly energetic, takes the lead, every so often, she stops, pulling out her phone to snap pictures of frost-covered branches or panoramic valley views glimpsed through breaks in the trees. "Okay, this is already insane," she breathes, her breath misting in the cold air, turning back to grin at you. "Worth the hike." You nod, catching up to her, stealing a quick, cold-nosed kiss. "Told you."

After maybe thirty minutes of steady climbing, the trees thin out, and you see it. Nestled on a slight plateau, overlooking a breathtaking expanse of rolling hills and snow-capped peaks, is the house. It's a modern marvel of wood, stone, and glass, somehow managing to look both incredibly chic and perfectly integrated into the rugged landscape. Smoke curls lazily from a stone chimney, the landlord wasn't lying when he assured you that the house would already be heated before you arrived.

"Holy shit," Yujin whispers, grabbing your arm, her eyes wide. "It's… wow."

You share a triumphant grin. "Welcome home for the week."

The final approach feels almost ceremonial, crunching through the pristine snow towards the heavy wooden front door. You fumble slightly with the key code—cold fingers—and then the door swings inward, revealing the sanctuary within. The difference is immediate and staggering. Warm air, thick with the scent of cedarwood and a crackling fire, washes over you, melting the chill from your bones. The interior is stunning: plush, deep-toned sofas are arranged around a massive stone fireplace where logs are already blazing merrily. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominate one wall, showcasing the incredible mountain view like a living artwork. Polished wooden floors are softened by thick, inviting rugs. It’s the epitome of cozy luxury, a perfect cocoon against the stark beauty outside. You drop your bags by the door with simultaneous sighs of relief.

Yujin lets out a low whistle, spinning slowly in place, taking it all in. "Okay, you officially win all the points," she declares, already shrugging off her heavy jacket. "This is beyond anything I imagined." She doesn't even pause to properly explore. Her eyes, scanning the space, seem to fix on an internal goal: maximum comfort, immediately. "Right," she announces, kicking off her hiking boots without bothering to undo the laces properly. "Operation Melt starts now." She disappears through a doorway you assume leads to the bedroom wing, shedding layers as she goes; hat tossed onto a chair, gloves stuffed into pockets.

You start unlacing your own boots, chuckling softly. Her single-minded focus on relaxation is adorable. You hear drawers opening and closing in the other room, then silence for a minute. When she reappears, you honestly have to stop yourself from staring. Gone are the bulky, practical travel layers. She’s changed into a pair of soft, charcoal-grey leggings that cling lovingly to every curve of her lower body—the swell of her hips, the undeniable thickness of her thighs, the perfect roundness of her ass. Up top, she’s wearing a simple, slightly cropped, cream-colored fluffy sweater that leaves a tantalizing strip of smooth skin visible at her waist when she stretches.

Her hair is pulled back loosely, stray strands framing her face, her skin glowing from the hike and the warmth of the house. She looks soft, touchable, and incredibly sexy in a way that stage outfits or carefully curated airport fashion never quite capture. It’s the casual, effortless confidence, the way the soft fabric hugs her figure, showcasing the solid, athletic build beneath; those strong thighs honed by years of dancing, the curve of her calves, the gentle slope of her stomach.

Fuck, you think, she really does have a 'thick and juicy' body, as the internet often thirsted over, and seeing it displayed so casually, so comfortably, right here in your shared private space, hits differently. It makes something low and primal stir inside you, a possessive urge mixing with pure adoration. She looks utterly relaxed, utterly herself, and it’s ridiculously hot.

She pads barefoot across the wooden floor towards the massive sofa, throwing herself onto it with a contented sigh that echoes in the high-ceilinged room. She curls up against the plush cushions, tucking her feet beneath her, already looking half-asleep but utterly blissful. "Okay," she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed for a second. "I could get used to this." You stand there for a moment, just watching her, the discarded hiking gear at your feet, the fire crackling merrily, the stunning view outside the window, and the sight of her, finally here, finally relaxed, looking so damn edible in her comfy clothes.

You don't move for a long moment, just drinking in the sight of her curled up on that ridiculously plush sofa, bathed in the warm glow of the fireplace. That sliver of pale skin exposed by the cropped fluffy sweater at her waist seems to pulse with warmth in the firelight, an invitation your body understands even if your brain is still catching up to the reality of finally being here. Two months. Two fucking months of cold screens and yearning touches that never landed.

The sight of her, so real, so soft, so utterly desirable in her deliberate comfort, short-circuits something in your chest. That simmering desire, kept on a low boil for weeks by distance and shitty Wi-Fi connections, suddenly cranks to high, threatening to boil over.

Unpacking? Later.

Relaxation? This feels like a much more urgent, much more necessary form of melting right now.

You move before you consciously decide to, crossing the space between you, your own discarded jacket and boots forgotten near the door. You approach the sofa, your shadow falling over her. Yujin's eyes flutter open, a lazy, contented smile gracing her lips. "Hey," she murmurs. "Comfy?" Her smile falters slightly, replaced by a flicker of understanding, then a dawning heat that mirrors your own. Her breath catches almost imperceptibly. She knows this look. She hasn't seen it directed at her, in person, for far too long. You don't say anything, just kneel on the thick rug beside the sofa, bringing yourself level with her. You reach out, your fingers tracing the exposed line of skin at her waist. She shivers, a full-body tremor this time, and her eyes darken, pupils blown wide.

"Yeah?" she whispers, the single word thick with implication, a question and permission all at once.

Your hand slides under the fluffy fabric of her sweater, fingers splaying across the surprising warmth of her stomach. Her skin is so soft, yielding. You lean in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that’s miles away from the desperate reunion clashes at her apartment door last night. This is slow, deliberate, a claiming. You taste the lingering sweetness of whatever snack she was eating, mixed with her own unique flavor, a taste you’ve craved like a lifeline. Her lips part instantly, inviting you deeper, her tongue meeting yours with an eagerness that betrays her own carefully banked fire. Her hand comes up, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer, erasing the last few inches between you.

The kiss deepens, grows hungrier. The slow burn explodes into a wildfire. Two months of frustration, of longing, of picturing this exact moment, fuels the escalating intensity. Your hands are everywhere, rediscovering her shape, her feel. One hand slides up her ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through the thin material of whatever bra she has on under the sweater, eliciting a soft gasp against your mouth. Your other hand isn't idle; it slides down from her waist, over the curve of her hip encased in the soft grey leggings. You squeeze, feeling the solid, powerful muscle beneath the yielding flesh. God, her thighs. You’ve fantasized about being wrapped around them again, feeling their strength. She moans into the kiss, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your connection, arching her back slightly, pressing her hips forward into your touch almost instinctively.

She breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to breathe, her chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks flushed. "Fuck," she pants, her eyes glazed with need. "Okay. Operation Melt just got… upgraded." You grin, leaning down to press kisses along her jawline, down her neck, finding that sensitive spot just below her ear that always makes her squirm. She shudders, tilting her head to give you better access, her fingers tightening in your hair. "Been waiting," you murmur against her skin, "to make you melt." Your hand slides further down her thigh, fingers tracing the seam of the leggings, heading towards the juncture of her legs. She shifts on the sofa, unconsciously spreading her knees slightly, a silent invitation. The fluffy sweater suddenly feels like too much of a barrier. You pull back slightly, your eyes locking with hers.

"Too many clothes," you state. She nods mutely, already reaching for the hem of her sweater.

Helping her pull the soft garment over her head feels like unwrapping the most precious gift. Underneath, she’s wearing a simple, dark sports bra that pushes her breasts together slightly, framing their soft swell. Her skin gleams in the firelight, smooth and inviting. You don't hesitate, leaning down to capture the peak of one breast through the fabric, sucking firmly. Yujin cries out, her back arching off the sofa cushions, hands flying to grip your shoulders. "Oh, fuck… yes," she gasps, hips tilting up again. You lave attention to both sides, switching back and forth, using teeth and tongue, feeling her nipples bead into tight points against the damp fabric. Her breath comes in short, sharp pants, her fingers digging into your muscles.

While your mouth is busy, your hands work on the leggings, hooking your thumbs into the waistband. She lifts her hips obligingly, helping you peel the tight fabric down over the generous curve of her ass, down her thick, strong thighs, past her knees, until they're bunched around her ankles. She kicks them off impatiently. Now she's wearing only the sports bra and a pair of simple, dark cotton panties. The sight is devastatingly intimate, devastatingly hot. Her thighs are bare now, powerful and pale in the flickering light, slightly parted. You move your attention lower, pressing kisses to the strip of skin above her waistband, then lower still, nosing at the fabric covering her mound. She groans, tangling her hands back in your hair, trying to guide you. "Please…" she whimpers

You oblige, replacing your mouth with your hand, pressing your palm flat against her mound through the cotton. She’s already damp, the fabric clinging slightly. She whimpers again, bucking her hips against your touch. You slide your fingers beneath the elastic band, finding her slick heat immediately. She gasps, her eyes rolling back slightly. Two months. You can feel the sheer amount of desperate need radiating from her. Your fingers explore, finding her clit, already swollen and sensitive. You circle it gently at first, then with increasing pressure, watching her face contort with pleasure.

"Oh god… don't stop," she pleads, her voice strained.

You add another finger, sliding inside her wet heat. She’s so tight, so welcoming, slick and ready for you. You pump your fingers in and out, slow and deep, while your thumb continues its relentless work on her clit. Her hips rise off the sofa to meet your rhythm, her moans becoming louder, less inhibited. The sound echoes slightly in the large, high-ceilinged room, mixing with the crackle of the fire. You move from the floor onto the sofa beside her, straddling her hips, needing to be closer, needing to feel all of her. You kiss her again, deeply, swallowing her moans, while your fingers continue their magic below. She claws at your back, leaving trails of heat through your shirt.

It's not enough. You need to be inside her. Now. You pull back from the kiss, fumbling with the button and zipper of your jeans, kicking them off hastily along with your boxers, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Your cock springs free, hard and aching. Yujin's eyes lock onto it, a predatory gleam mixing with the raw need. She reaches out, her hand closing around your length, her touch both hesitant and demanding after the long absence.

"Missed this," she whispers, stroking you slowly, deliberately. You groan, gritting your teeth.

"Fuck, Yujin…" You gently push her hand away. "My turn."

You reposition yourself between her legs. Her thighs fall open wider, granting you full access. She looks up at you, eyes dark pools of anticipation, biting her lower lip. You take the hem of her sports bra, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it aside. Her breasts spill free, perky and pale, nipples still tight and dark from your earlier attention. You lean down, kissing the valley between them, then take one nipple into your mouth again, sucking hard as you position the head of your cock at her entrance. She cries out, her body tensing, hands gripping your biceps. Her slickness coats you, hot and welcoming. With a low groan, driven by sixty-three days of pent-up frustration, you push forward, sinking into her heat.

Her gasp is sharp, her eyes squeezing shut as you fill her completely. Fuck, she feels incredible. Tight, wet, impossibly hot. It’s like coming home after the longest, hardest journey. You stay still for a moment, buried deep inside her, letting both of you adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being joined again. Her inner muscles clench around you involuntarily, drawing a pained groan from your own throat.

You rest your forehead against hers, both of you breathing heavily. "Okay?" you whisper. She nods, eyes fluttering open, glazed but focused on you. "More than okay," she breathes. "Don't you dare stop now." That’s all the encouragement you need. You begin to move, pulling back slowly, almost completely, before thrusting back in deep. Yujin throws her head back against the cushions, a long, keening moan escaping her lips. You establish a rhythm, slow and deep at first, savoring the friction, the feeling of her tight pussy gripping you with every inward stroke.

Her hands slide down your back, fingers digging into the muscles of your ass, urging you deeper, faster. You oblige, picking up the pace, your thrusts becoming harder, more frantic. The sofa bounces slightly beneath you, the only sounds the crackling fire, your ragged breaths, her increasingly desperate moans, and the wet slap of your bodies colliding. Firelight flickers across her sweat-slicked skin, highlighting the flush spreading across her chest, the cords standing out in her neck as she arches into each thrust. Her legs come up, wrapping around your waist, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling you impossibly deeper. The angle is perfect, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out your name.

"Fuck, right there… yes…" she gasps, her nails scoring lines on your back, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave marks, claiming you. You lower yourself, bracing your hands on the sofa cushions on either side of her head, driving into her relentlessly. You watch her face, her expression a mixture of intense pleasure and building pressure. Her eyes are squeezed shut again, her lower lip caught between her teeth. You lean down, kissing her fiercely, swallowing her breathless cries.

The intensity builds, coiling tight in your belly, mirroring the tension you see in her straining body. Her hips buck beneath you, meeting your thrusts with equal force, chasing her release. You feel her inner muscles starting to clench rhythmically around your cock, fluttering desperately. "Fuck," Yujin gasps, her eyes snapping open to lock with yours, pupils blown wide, swirling with raw lust. "God, I am so fucking horny for you right now, I can barely breathe. It’s insane."

You smirk, leaning down to capture her mouth in a brutal, tongue-tangling kiss, one hand sliding down to grip her ass cheek, kneading the firm flesh. "Tell me about it," you bite out against her lips when you finally pull back for air. "Feeling you this tight, this wet around my cock… knowing I'm the only one who gets you like this… driving me fucking crazy, baby." You emphasize the point with a particularly deep, grinding thrust that makes her cry out, nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to sting this time. "Yes! Oh god, yes! Just like that!" she pants, bucking her hips frantically against you. "Fuck, I love your cock. I missed it so much. Just having you inside me… it feels… perfect. Don't stop, please don't ever stop."

Her admission, the sheer worship in her tone as she talks about your cock, sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your groin. You pick up the pace, pounding into her relentlessly, your rhythm savage, pushing her further and further towards the edge. Her moans become higher pitched, more desperate, her body starting to tremble with oncoming pleasure.

"Oh fuck… oh god… I'm getting so close," she whimpers, her eyes squeezed shut again, face contorted in a mask of excruciating pleasure. "So close… please…!" You feel the tension coiling in your own body, your balls tightening, the inevitable climax building like a pressure cooker. "Me too, baby," you groan, your own voice strained now, pushing faster, harder. "Fuck, I'm right there with you…" Yujin's eyes fly open again, fucking onto yours with fierce intensity, a desperate plea shining within their depths. "Then cum with me!" she begs, her voice cracking with urgency. "Please, please cum inside me! Now! Fill me up! I need it! I need your cum inside me so bad!" Her hips buck harder, grinding against you in a frenzy.

Fuck. Hearing her beg like that, so needy, so utterly consumed by lust, demanding your seed deep inside her… it obliterates any remaining shred of control you might have had. You love this side of her, the hidden 'slutty' Yujin that only you get to see, the one who sheds all pretense and just needs to be filled, used, claimed. "Yeah, baby?" you manage, leaning down close to her ear. "You want me to fill that tight little pussy up? Want my hot cum flooding your womb?"

You give another vicious thrust, feeling her inner walls clench hard around you. She nods frantically, tears of sheer pleasure and desperation starting to leak from the corners of her eyes.

"Yes! Please! Begging you! Fill me up! Cum in me now!"

That's it. Her desperate, slutty plea shatters your control completely. "FUCK YES!" you roar, abandoning all finesse, slamming into her with everything you have, a final series of deep, punishing thrusts aimed at driving yourself as deep as physically possible. "I'm cumming babe, I'm cumming on your cock!" Her answering scream is pure ecstasy as her orgasm rips through her, her body convulsing violently around your straining cock, milking you with impossible strength.

That final, desperate clenching triggers your own release. With a guttural shout that echoes hers, you explode, unloading torrents of thick, hot cum deep within her tight pussy. You keep thrusting hard as you come, pumping every last drop into her, feeling the incredibly intimate sensation of filling her completely, picturing your seed flooding her womb just like she begged for. It's a volcanic release, fueled by weeks of absence and the sheer intensity of her begging, far more powerful than usual.

As your orgasm finally subsides, leaving you utterly spent, you feel her own shudders gradually lessen, though she continues to clench around you sporadically. She just melts underneath you, boneless and whimpering softly, completely overwhelmed. You collapse onto her, burying your face back into her neck, trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding like a drum against hers. You know how much she loves this, how much she craves the feeling of being filled by you, and the thought that she went two whole months without it… no wonder you both just about broke the fucking sofa.

You stay like that for a long time, glued together, skin sticky with sweat, limbs tangled, the only sounds the crackling fire and your slowly normalizing breaths. You can feel the warmth of your cum seeping out of her slightly, pooling between her legs and onto the expensive upholstery beneath her ass. Neither of you cares. The intimacy of the moment, the sheer relief and satisfaction, is profound. Her arms are wrapped loosely around your back, her cheek resting against your chest, her breathing soft against your skin. Eventually, she stirs, lifting her head slightly, her eyes soft, languid, utterly content. She presses a soft kiss to your collarbone. "Okay," she whispers, voice still rough with spent passion. "That was… worth the wait."

She shifts slightly, and you feel a little more of your cum trickle down her thigh. She glances down, then back up at you, a mischievous glint entering her eyes. "Speaking of waiting… that hot spring is still out there. Probably nice and warm by now…" She arches an eyebrow suggestively. "Seems like a good excuse to get cleaned up… maybe?" You chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her 'excuses' are rarely subtle. "Yeah? Think maybe we need to wash all this… evidence… off?" You gesture vaguely at the sticky mess on her, you, and the sofa. She grins. "Exactly. Wouldn't want to stain the furniture on day one."

Getting untangled and upright takes effort, muscles pleasantly sore, bodies feeling heavy and satisfied. You're both naked now, clothes discarded in haste much earlier. You grab a couple of the ridiculously fluffy towels the house provided, tossing one to her. Standing there, naked in the warm glow of the fire, you take a moment to just appreciate her body—the flush still high on her cheeks and chest, the slight sheen of sweat, the curve of her hips and those incredible thighs, slightly marked by your grip. She catches you looking and smiles, a soft, knowing smile. "Like what you see?" she teases, stretching languidly, making her breasts jiggle slightly. "Always," you reply honestly, your voice still a bit thick. You lead the way to the back door, opening it to a blast of cold night air.

The contrast is sharp after the cozy warmth inside. Steam rises invitingly from the stone-lined hot spring built into a wooden deck area just outside, partially sheltered by the overhang of the roof but open to the starry sky above. The surrounding snow glows faintly blue in the moonlight. "Last one in is…" Yujin starts, but doesn't finish, instead making a quick dash across the freezing deck boards with a little shriek and sliding into the steaming water with an audible sigh of pure bliss. "Oh my god, that's amazing," she calls out, sinking down until the water reaches her chin, her eyes closed in pleasure. She opens them again, looking at you expectantly. "Come on!"

You hesitate at the edge, the cold biting at your bare skin. "In a sec," you call back. "Figured Operation Melt might require refueling soon. Gonna grab some snacks first." Yujin pouts dramatically for a second, then her expression softens. "Okay, fine," she concedes. "I am starving, actually. You're the best." You flash her a grin and duck back inside, heading for the well-stocked kitchen.

You quickly assemble a platter—some cheese, crackers, fruit, some chocolate you found in the welcome basket, plus a couple of bottles of cold water. Balancing the tray, you head back out. The cold air feels even colder now after the brief respite inside. Yujin is leaning back against the edge of the spring, watching the steam curl into the night sky, looking completely serene. You carefully set the snack tray down on the edge of the deck within easy reach before finally stepping down the submerged stone steps into the hot spring yourself. The heat is instantaneous, intense, enveloping you like a comforting blanket, chasing away the chill in seconds. You let out a sigh of relief, sinking into the water opposite her.

She watches you enter, her eyes soft and filled with an undeniable warmth that has nothing to do with the water temperature. There's gratitude there, affection, and a deep, simmering satisfaction. "Seriously," she says, the words soft and sincere, paddling a little closer to you through the steam. "Thank you. For… all of this." She gestures vaguely, encompassing the house, the trip, maybe even the mind-blowing sex you just had. "You're just… amazing. Spoiling me like this after I was gone so long." She reaches out, trailing her fingers lightly across your chest under the water. "I really need to figure out a really good way to reward you properly this week, make it up to you…" Her eyes hold yours, full of promise, the steam swirling around you both like a curtain, creating your own private world under the vast, cold night sky.

—

You wake up slowly on the second day, cocooned in an almost obscene amount of warmth and softness. Sunlight streams through a gap in the heavy curtains, painting a bright stripe across the ridiculously comfortable king-size bed. Yujin is still fast asleep, curled against your side, one arm thrown possessively over your chest, her face relaxed and peaceful in a way you haven't seen since before the tour madness began. Her dark hair is fanned out across the crisp white pillowcase, strands clinging slightly to her cheek. You watch the slow, even rise and fall of her breathing, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over you.

This.

This is what you both needed.

Just quiet, uninterrupted closeness. You resist the urge to wake her, instead just lying there, soaking in the silence, the luxury, and the simple fact that she's here.

Eventually, her eyelids flutter. She murmurs something incoherent, nuzzling closer into your warmth like a contented cat before her eyes finally drift open. They focus on you, still hazy with sleep, and a slow, soft smile spreads across her face. "Morning," she whispers.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you reply, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She hums contentedly, stretching languidly under the duvet, her bare leg brushing against yours. The casual intimacy sends a familiar jolt through you, but it’s softer this morning, less frantic need, more simmering appreciation.

Getting out of bed happens eventually, reluctantly. You pad into the sleek, modern bathroom together, brushing your teeth side-by-side, sharing sleepy smiles in the mirror. Yujin pulls on one of your oversized band t-shirts that you packed, the hem falling to her mid-thighs, and pairs it with some ridiculously tiny, lacy black sleep shorts that barely peek out from underneath. It's an ensemble that's simultaneously adorable, comfortable, and mind-bendingly sexy. She knows it, too. As she heads out to the kitchen ahead of you, presumably in search of caffeine, she pauses in the doorway, turns back, and gives her hips a slow, deliberate sway, her ass looking incredible beneath the soft cotton of your shirt. She catches your eye in the mirror, winks, and then disappears around the corner, leaving you momentarily stunned and already half-hard before you've even had coffee.

She’s going to make this week exquisitely torturous, isn’t she?

You follow her out, finding her already navigating the high-end coffee machine like a pro. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the spacious open-plan living area. The fire from last night has died down to embers, but the underfloor heating keeps the whole place incredibly toasty. You pour yourselves mugs of steaming coffee, adding a splash of milk, and wander over to the massive windows. The view is even more spectacular in the daylight: crisp white snow blanketing everything, distant peaks sharp against a brilliant blue sky, sunlight glinting off the icy surfaces. You stand there for a while, sipping your coffee, shoulder-to-shoulder, just taking it all in. "It's unreal," Yujin murmurs, leaning her head against your shoulder. "Feels like we're in a snow globe."

Breakfast is a joint effort in the state-of-the-art kitchen. You find pancake mix in the well-stocked pantry, while Yujin tackles frying bacon and scrambling eggs, humming happily off-key. Working together feels easy, natural, falling back into a comfortable rhythm despite the months apart. There’s playful nudging, stealing bites of bacon straight from the pan (earning you a light smack with a spatula from Yujin), and lots of laughter. You eat sitting at the solid wood dining table, sunlight streaming in, talking about everything, trying to make up for lost time. She tells you more anecdotes from the tour, the funny mishaps, the exhaustion, but it’s lighter now, told with the relief of someone who’s reached the finish line and can finally breathe. You devour the delicious food—fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, perfectly scrambled eggs—feeling utterly content.

After cleaning up together (a surprisingly domestic and pleasant task in this setting), the clear skies and stunning scenery outside beckon. "Walk?" you suggest. Yujin nods eagerly. "Definitely. Need to explore our kingdom." You bundle up again, the ritual of layering thermals and jackets feeling familiar now. You grab your phone, intending to capture the beauty of the place, and maybe its most beautiful inhabitant. The air outside is bitingly cold but incredibly fresh, scrubbing your lungs clean. You follow a different path this time, one that leads away from the house and deeper into the surrounding pine forest. The snow crunches loudly under your boots, the only sound besides your own breathing and the occasional gust of wind sighing through the branches overhead. Sunlight filters through the trees, making the snow sparkle like scattered diamonds.

Yujin is captivated, constantly pointing out animal tracks in the snow, or the intricate patterns of frost on fallen leaves. You hang back slightly, watching her, and start taking pictures. You capture her profile as she gazes up at a particularly tall, snow-laden tree, her breath misting in the air. You snap a shot of her laughing as she nearly slips on a patch of ice, catching herself at the last second. You get one of her turning back towards you, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, eyes sparkling with life and happiness, a genuine, unguarded smile gracing her lips. "Hey," she calls, noticing you aiming your phone. "Paparazzi even out here?" She strikes a deliberately goofy pose, hand on hip, lips pursed. You laugh, snapping that one too. "Can't help it," you call back, lowering the phone and walking towards her. "You look incredible."

You show her the pictures, scrolling through them. Especially the candid one, the laughing one. "See? Told you." You zoom in slightly on her smiling face against the snowy backdrop. "Absolutely beautiful." She ducks her head, a genuine blush rising on her cheeks this time, distinct from the cold-induced pinkness. "Stop," she mumbles, but she leans against you, looking at the photos on your screen, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Okay, maybe that one's kinda cute," she admits, pointing to the laughing shot.

You spend another hour exploring, venturing further until you reach a ridge with an even more expansive view of the valley below. You take more photos, some posed, some candid, each one capturing a piece of her relaxed joy, her stunning beauty amplified by the raw, majestic nature surrounding you. Every time you tell her how good she looks, she either preens playfully or swats your arm, but you see the pleasure it brings her in her eyes.

Returning to the house feels like stepping back into a warm embrace. You shed your cold-weather gear by the door, toes and fingers tingling as they warm up. Hot chocolate feels mandatory. You whip some up using the fancy milk frother and some high-quality chocolate flakes you found, topping them with whipped cream. You curl up on opposite ends of the massive sofa, feet tucked underneath you, mugs warming your hands, the silence comfortable again. Yujin sighs contentedly after a long sip. "This is literally heaven," she murmurs, eyes closed. The afternoon drifts by in a haze of blissful relaxation.

You put on some mellow music. Yujin finds a stack of glossy art books on a shelf and gets absorbed in one, while you try to read but find your eyes constantly drifting towards her. She's kicked off her socks now, feet bare. Your t-shirt has ridden up slightly as she shifted, revealing more of those ridiculously enticing lace shorts and the smooth curve of her hip. She seems completely oblivious, lost in her book, occasionally pushing her hair back from her face or biting her lip in concentration. Every small movement she makes sends a jolt of awareness through you.

The memory of how she felt beneath you last night, how she begged for you, is a constant, simmering undercurrent beneath the placid surface of the afternoon. Later, she gets up to refill her water bottle, pausing on her way back from the kitchen. She stretches languidly, arms reaching high above her head, arching her back. The movement pulls your t-shirt taut across her breasts and lifts the hem significantly, giving you a deliberate, heart-stopping view of her ass in those tiny black shorts. She holds the stretch for just a moment too long, catches your eye, and gives you a slow, knowing smirk before dropping her arms and continuing back to the sofa as if nothing happened. Fucking tease.

As evening approaches, you decide on dinner. The fridge is stocked with ingredients for steak, asparagus, and potatoes. Cooking together again is just as fun as breakfast, maybe even more so now that you've opened a bottle of red wine. Yujin expertly sears the steaks while you handle the sides, moving around each other easily in the spacious kitchen. She's still in your t-shirt and the tiny shorts, seemingly uncaring that she's flashing generous amounts of thigh and occasionally the curve of her butt cheek as she bends or reaches. You're pretty sure she's doing it on purpose now, enjoying the effect she has on you.

You sneak up behind her while she's focused on basting the steaks, wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling her back against your chest. You nuzzle her neck, inhaling her scent mixed with the delicious aroma of cooking food. "Smells amazing," you murmur. She leans back into you, tilting her head slightly. "The steak, or me?" she teases, turning her head just enough to press a quick, wine-flavored kiss to your lips before deftly flipping the steaks.

You eat dinner by candlelight, the food tasting incredible, the wine warming you further. Afterwards, instead of retreating back to the sofa, you brave the cold for a few minutes, stepping out onto the deck, wrapped in blankets this time, to look at the stars. The sky here, away from city lights, is unbelievable; a vast, dark canvas dusted with millions of brilliant stars. Yujin leans heavily against you, pointing out constellations she recognizes. The peacefulness is immense, broken only by your soft voices and the distant sigh of the wind.

Back inside, you rekindle the fire, the logs catching quickly, casting flickering shadows across the room. Yujin curls up beside you on the rug this time, leaning against your legs as you sit on the sofa, idly scrolling through the photos you took earlier. She looks up at you, her eyes soft in the firelight. "Today was perfect," she whispers. "Just… easy. And fun." She pauses, then a slow, wicked smile spreads across her face. "But you know," she adds as she reaches out, her hand landing purposefully high on your inner thigh, fingers starting a slow, tantalizing exploration beneath the fabric of your sweatpants. "All this relaxing… It's making me really needy. Maybe perfection needs a little… spicing up?" Her fingers tighten, finding the ridge of your hardening cock through the fabric, and her eyes hold yours, full of blatant, delicious promise.

—

You drift awake on the third morning feeling boneless and utterly drained in the best possible way. Last night… well, last night Yujin definitely collected on her promise to 'spice things up'. After her suggestive comment by the fire, things had escalated quickly, moving from teasing touches on the sofa to a full-blown, hours-long session in the massive bed that left you both sweat-soaked, marked, and completely spent. She’d ridden you like she was trying to break a world record, screaming your name, demanding you fuck her harder, deeper, finally begging, pleading for you to cum inside her again and again until neither of you could move.

Now, though? Now she sleeps beside you like a goddamn angel. Curled on her side, facing you, lips slightly parted, breathing softly, one hand tucked trustingly under her cheek. The picture of innocence. If you didn't have the faint soreness in your muscles and the lingering scent of sex clinging to the sheets (and probably both of you) as evidence, you might almost believe last night's debauchery was a particularly vivid dream. Seeing her like this, peaceful and cute after being such a demanding little demon just hours before, makes a fond, possessive warmth spread through your chest. You stay put for a while, just watching her sleep, letting the relaxed satisfaction wash over you.

The day unfolds with the same lazy rhythm as yesterday, but there's a subtle difference in Yujin's energy. While yesterday was about blissful relaxation and melting away stress, today she seems… effervescent. There's an extra bounce in her step as she pads around the house (today choosing a ridiculously soft-looking cashmere lounge set—pale blue joggers and a matching loose hoodie—that still manages to look incredibly sexy on her). She hums constantly, a cheerful, slightly tuneless sound. And she's definitely glued to her phone more than usual. You catch her sending off quick texts, a secretive little smile playing on her lips as she taps away, quickly pocketing the device whenever you glance over for too long.

You try asking casually who she's texting, but she just waves a hand dismissively, "Oh, just group chat stuff, checking in," before changing the subject with suspicious speed. It's weird, but you brush it off. Maybe she's just genuinely happy, fully recharged after a couple of days away and a night of intense sex. You spend the morning reading by the fire again, drinking coffee, occasionally getting lost in conversation, but her slightly distracted, anticipatory energy It's something you can't completely ignore.

Around midday, you both decide on lunch. Yujin takes the lead this time, announcing she wants to make a big batch of kimchi jjigae, claiming she's craving something spicy and hearty. You're happy to be her sous-chef, chopping vegetables while she handles the broth and meat. As she adds ingredients to the large pot, you notice she seems to be prepping way more than necessary for just two people. She adds nearly a whole block of tofu, a generous amount of pork belly, and practically the entire head of kimchi. "Hungry today, huh?" you comment lightly, eyeing the overflowing pot. She just grins, not looking up from stirring. "Starving! All that fresh mountain air… and, you know…" She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, referencing last night. You laugh, shaking your head. Fair enough. The rich, spicy aroma starts filling the kitchen, making your own stomach rumble.

You're setting out bowls and spoons when it happens: the sudden, sharp, totally unexpected chime of a doorbell echoes through the house.

You freeze, spoon clattering onto the counter. What the actual fuck? A doorbell? Out here? You’re miles from anywhere, accessible only by a private track and a final hike. You weren’t expecting deliveries, and certainly not visitors. Your head whips around to look at Yujin, expecting to see similar confusion or alarm on her face. Instead, she’s completely unfazed. She wipes her hands on a kitchen towel, a bright, almost smug smile spreading across her face. "Oh, good! Right on time," she says cheerfully, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Your confusion morphs into suspicion. "On time for what? Who is that?" you ask. Yujin just pats your arm reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. I'll get it." She practically skips towards the front door, leaving you standing bewildered in the kitchen, the simmering jjigae momentarily forgotten. You follow her slowly, hesitantly, stopping in the main living area, peering towards the entranceway. Yujin swings the heavy wooden door open.

Standing on the threshold, looking impossibly small surrounded by the vast snowy landscape and bundled up in a thick, long padded coat, scarf wrapped high around her neck, and a woolly hat pulled low, is Naoi Rei.

Your brain takes a second to compute. Rei? Here? She has a large backpack slung over one shoulder and is juggling a couple of tote bags, her cheeks flushed bright pink from the biting cold. She looks exhausted and slightly grumpy. "Ugh, Yujin!" she complains immediately, voice muffled by the scarf. "It's freezing out here! And that hike was no joke. Are you trying to kill me?" Yujin just laughs, stepping aside to let her in. "You made it! I was starting to worry." She pulls Rei into a warm hug, then playfully pinches one of her rosy cheeks. "Aw, look at you, so cute when you're grumpy." Rei grumbles something unintelligible but allows herself to be pulled inside, stamping snow off her boots.

She starts unwrapping herself from her layers, revealing slightly tousled hair and wide, expressive eyes that finally land on you standing awkwardly a few feet away.

"Hey there," she says, smiling at you like she always does, but there’s a distinct curve to her lips this time, It's a smile that seems… knowing. Different. Like she expected you to be here, like she's in on some secret you're definitely not privy to.

"Rei, hi," you manage, trying to sound casual, friendly, plastering on a polite smile while your mind races. "Didn't expect visitors. Welcome." You gesture vaguely around the luxurious space. "Nice place, huh?"

Rei nods, her eyes scanning the room with appreciation before flicking back to you. "Yeah, it's beautiful. Yujin wasn't exaggerating…" she trails off, that knowing little smile playing on her lips again.

Yujin claps her hands together. "Rei, go warm up! Bathroom's down the hall if you need it. Lunch is almost ready." Rei nods gratefully, murmuring thanks, and disappears down the hallway with her bags, leaving you alone with Yujin in the suddenly charged silence.

You turn on her immediately, keeping your tone low but urgent. "Yujin. What. The. Hell?" You stab a finger towards the hallway where Rei vanished. "Why is Rei here? This was supposed to be our week. Just us. To reconnect. What is going on?" Yujin doesn't look guilty or apologetic. She looks amused, maybe even a little triumphant. She steps closer, reaching up to smooth the front of your shirt, her touch lingering.

"Baby," she says softly. "Don't you remember the first day? At the hot spring?"

You frown. "Yeah? You were talking about… rewarding me?"

"Exactly," she confirms, her smile widening. "I told you I needed to figure out a really good way to reward you. For waiting two months, for planning this amazing trip, for… well, for being you."

Your brain is still struggling to connect the dots. "Okay…? So you invited Rei for lunch?"

Yujin lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head like you’re being adorably dense. "No, silly." She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her gaze intense.

"Rei is the reward."

This sentence hits you like a physical blow, a jolt of memory so sharp it makes you dizzy. That night, months ago, before the tour. Both of you tipsy on wine after a date night, curled up on her sofa back in Seoul. The conversation had gotten silly, then bold. Yujin, flushed and giggling, had pinned you with a surprisingly serious look. "Hypothetically," she'd slurred slightly, "if you had to… you know… with me and one of the other girls… who would it be?" You'd tried to deflect, laughing it off, but she'd persisted, poking your chest, teasing you, her eyes full of drunken curiosity and maybe something else, something testing. "Come on! Just hypothetically! Who do you think is hot?"

Cornered, flustered, and definitely influenced by the alcohol and her relentless, playful interrogation, you finally mumbled something about how, hypothetically, you thought Rei had this unique mix… she was adorably cute, almost a doll with her cheeks and mannerisms, but there was also something undeniably sexy about her, a hidden heat beneath the surface.

"Rei?" Yujin had repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, before a slow, considering smile spread across her face. "Interesting…" The conversation had moved on quickly after that, dissolving into more drunken kisses, and you'd completely forgotten about it. Until now. Holy shit. Yujin remembered. She actually fucking remembered that drunken, hypothetical confession and somehow, somehow, she'd made it real. Standing here, in this secluded mountain paradise, she'd arranged for Naoi Rei—cute, adorably hot Rei—to show up as your 'reward'. The sheer audacity, the implications… your mind reels, struggling to process it.

And then, overriding the shock, comes a powerful, undeniable physical reaction. Heat floods your groin, your dick instantly surging against the inside of your jeans, growing thick and hard at the mind-blowing possibility Yujin just dropped into your lap. Rei. Yujin. Together. Your reward. Holy fuck.

You stare at Yujin, the kimchi jjigae bubbling forgotten on the stove behind her, the rich scent suddenly secondary to the absolute bombshell she just dropped. Your dick is throbbing insistently against your zipper, a physical testament to how quickly your body accepted this insane premise, even while your brain struggles to catch up. "Are you fucking serious right now, Yujin?" you finally manage. She doesn't flinch. Her smile remains firmly in place, smug and utterly confident. "Completely serious, baby," she confirms, reaching out to trail a finger down your chest, her touch electric. "Think of it as… a very special welcome home present. For both of us." You shake your head, trying to clear it. "But… Rei? Does she know? I mean, what did you tell her? Did she just… agree to show up here and be my 'reward'?"

The idea sounds ludicrous even as you say it. Yujin lets out a low chuckle, a throaty sound that sends another jolt straight south. "Let's just say Rei is… adventurous. And maybe a little curious about certain things." She leans closer again, eyes sparkling with wicked delight. "And maybe she trusts me. Give her a couple of glasses of wine with lunch," she murmurs conspiratorially, tapping your chest lightly. "You might be surprised what our little Rei agrees to." Your mind races. Open-minded? Curious? This is Naoi Rei, the group's seemingly sweet, slightly shy Japanese member. The image clashes wildly with what Yujin is implying.

"And you think…" you swallow, still grappling with the reality of it, "...you think I'll like this?" Yujin raises an eyebrow, her expression playful but challenging.

"Do you?" she counters, turning the question back on you, her gaze flicking down pointedly towards the noticeable bulge in your jeans before meeting your eyes again. Fuck. She knows she has you. The shock is fading, replaced by raw, undeniable arousal. The memory of that drunken confession, the image of Rei—cute face, unexpectedly hot body— joining you and Yujin… it’s becoming terrifyingly appealing. "...I guess we'll find out, won't we?" you finally concede.

Yujin's triumphant smile tells you that was the answer she wanted.

Right on cue, Rei reappears, padding softly back into the living area. She’s ditched the heavy coat and layers, now wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and a slightly oversized, fluffy pink hoodie that makes her look incredibly soft and approachable, almost negating the knowing glint you keep seeing in her eyes. "Wow, smells amazing, Unnie!" she exclaims, sniffing the air dramatically as she approaches the kitchen. Yujin immediately switches back into hostess mode. "Right? Come on, it's ready. Let's eat before it gets cold." The three of you gather around the dining table, ladling generous portions of the steaming, vibrant red stew into bowls.

Lunch is… surreal.

On the surface, it's perfectly normal. Polite conversation flows easily. Rei talks more about her journey—a series of train rides and then a slightly confusing taxi drop-off where Yujin's detailed instructions for the final hike were apparently crucial. Yujin fills her in on your first couple of days, describing the house and the surroundings with enthusiasm. They chat about mutual friends, upcoming schedules (vaguely, avoiding specifics), and the food.

But underneath the mundane chatter, there’s a shared awareness; at least between you and Yujin, and you strongly suspect Rei too—of the real reason she's here. You catch Yujin sending subtle glances towards Rei, then flicking her eyes towards you with a tiny smirk. Rei, while mostly interacting with Yujin, occasionally directs comments or questions at you, her smile friendly but still holding that hint of something… more. Shy curiosity? Playful anticipation? You can’t quite read it, and the ambiguity is driving you crazy. You focus on eating the delicious jjigae, the spiciness a welcome distraction, though you make sure to pour Rei a generous glass of the red wine left over from last night, remembering Yujin's suggestion. Rei accepts it with a grateful smile, taking a healthy sip.

"Seriously, Yujin-unnie," Rei says between mouthfuls, looking around the luxurious space again, "this place is incredible. Getting here was hell, honestly, that taxi driver looked so lost, and the hike! But wow." She shakes her head in amazement. "I can only say that I am happy to have been invited."

Yujin beams. "Told you it was worth it! And we haven't even shown you the best parts yet. Wait till you see the hot spring."

Rei's eyes light up instantly, just like Yujin predicted. "Yes! You kept talking about it on the phone! Is it really that amazing?" Yujin leans forward slightly, her tone dropping conspiratorially, though she directs the comment mostly towards Rei, she makes sure to catch your eye too. "Oh, it's the best part. Especially… after dark." Rei giggles, taking another sip of her wine, her cheeks slightly flushed now—maybe from the spice, maybe the alcohol, maybe something else entirely.

After lunch, with the dishes cleared away (Yujin insisting you all leave them for later), Yujin suggests showing Rei the stunning view you discovered yesterday. You all bundle up again and head outside. Rei is instantly enchanted by the vast, snowy landscape, gasping at the panoramic view from the ridge. She pulls out her phone, snapping dozens of pictures, posing playfully for Yujin, and even asking you, with a slightly shy smile, if you could take a few of her with the mountains in the background. You oblige, trying to act normal as you direct her slightly, acutely aware of Yujin watching you both with keen interest. Rei loves the quiet, the crisp air, the sheer beauty of it all, her earlier grumpiness completely vanished, replaced by wide-eyed wonder.

Back inside, shedding the cold gear feels even better this time. The warmth of the house, the lingering smell of kimchi and woodsmoke, feels incredibly welcoming. "Coffee?" Yujin suggests. "Or more hot chocolate? Need to warm up properly." You opt for coffee, while Rei eagerly accepts another hot chocolate. You settle back into the living area, the energy shifting slightly now. The exploration is done, lunch is finished. The unspoken 'agenda' for the afternoon seems to loom closer. Yujin strategically steers the conversation towards more personal topics, asking Rei about her family, reminiscing about funny trainee stories, creating a relaxed, intimate atmosphere. Rei seems to visibly unwind, laughing easily, her initial shyness fading further, helped along perhaps by another small glass of wine Yujin casually tops up for her.

Eventually, Yujin stretches languidly on the sofa, catching your eye. "Well," she announces. "I think it's officially hot spring time. Before the sun goes down completely." Rei perks up immediately. "Yes! Finally!"

Yujin grins and pushes herself off the sofa. "Okay, you two wait here. I'll grab the towels. Need to change into something more appropriate first." She winks at you before disappearing towards the bedroom wing. Rei shifts slightly on her seat, suddenly looking a little nervous again now that the moment is here. She avoids your gaze for a second, taking a sudden interest in the pattern on her empty hot chocolate mug. Before the silence can become awkward, Yujin returns, carrying a stack of fluffy white towels.

And she's changed. Gone is the cozy cashmere set. Instead, she’s wearing a sleek, black one-piece swimsuit. It’s one you absolutely love—high-cut on the legs, showing off the curve of her hips and length of her thighs, with a plunging neckline held together by daring crisscross straps that frame her cleavage perfectly. It emphasizes her lean strength, her dancer’s body, radiating confidence and pure sex appeal. She looks incredible, and she knows it. "Your turn, Rei," Yujin prompts gently, tossing her a towel. Rei takes a deep breath, nods quickly, and scurries off towards the guest room Yujin must have prepared for her.

You wait, heart pounding a little faster now.

This is it.

The 'reward' is about to be fully revealed.

Yujin comes over to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, her breath warm against your skin. "Excited?" You just nod, unable to form words. A moment later, Rei reappears in the doorway, looking hesitant but resolute. And holy shit. She’s wearing a simple, triangle-string bikini, a soft lilac color that contrasts beautifully with her skin tone. And Yujin wasn't kidding about her being 'open-minded' or maybe just incredibly trusting. Because the bikini reveals everything. Just like Yujin, Rei possesses that surprising idol duality: the cute, almost cherubic face paired with a body that is unexpectedly, devastatingly curvy and womanly. She is as thick as Yujin, maybe even slightly more so in certain places. Her hips flare generously from a trim waist, her thighs are full and strong, touching voluptuously at the top. Her stomach is soft but toned. And her breasts, fuller than Yujin’s, spill enticingly from the small lilac triangles, looking incredibly soft and heavy.

It's a stunning contrast—the sweet, almost shy face atop a figure that screams pure, unadulterated sex. She nervously adjusts the string at her hip, refusing to meet your eyes directly, a becoming blush staining her cheeks and spreading down her neck towards those impressive breasts. Yujin beams at her encouragingly. "See? You look amazing, Rei!" Rei mumbles a thank you, still looking anywhere but at you. But you see it all.

The whole reward, unwrapped and standing nervously before you. Yujin is practically vibrating with a smug 'I told you so' energy beside her in that killer black one-piece.

Right, if they're dressed for the water, lingering in sweatpants feels wrong. "Okay, okay, give me two seconds," you say, holding up a hand. "Need to change into something more appropriate myself." You jog back towards the bedroom, quickly shuck off your sweatpants, pulling on a pair of comfortable swim shorts instead. You glance in the mirror—shirtless, shorts, feeling ready. You head back out, finding Yujin has efficiently detoured via the kitchen counter where the wine was chilling. She now has the opened bottle in one hand, three stemmed glasses held expertly by their bases in the other. She nods approvingly at your attire change. "Perfect timing. Let's go."

The three of you head out onto the deck together this time. Yujin leads the way carefully with her fragile cargo, you follow with the towels slung over your shoulder, and Rei walks beside you, hugging herself slightly against the sudden blast of cold air on her mostly bare skin. "Woah! Okay, definitely cold out here!" Rei exclaims, teeth chattering slightly. "Get in, get in!" Yujin urges, already heading for the steps.

You all descend into the steaming water, the intense heat a blissful shock after the cold. Rei lets out a long, audible sigh of pure pleasure as she sinks gratefully into the warmth, her eyes widening as she takes in the surroundings properly—the steam rising into the twilight sky, the snow-dusted landscape stretching out around you, the luxurious feel of the smooth stone beneath the water. "Okay, wow," she breathes, looking genuinely impressed. "This hot spring is… seriously incredible, Unnie." She seems to visibly relax almost instantly, the tension melting from her posture as the heat works its magic.

Yujin beams, clearly pleased. "Told you!" She wades over to a built-in underwater ledge, carefully setting down the glasses before pouring a generous amount of red wine into each. She deliberately settles onto the ledge right next to Rei, their bare shoulders almost touching, before handing her a glass and then passing one over to you. "To relaxing properly," Yujin declares, raising her glass. You and Rei echo the sentiment, clinking glasses gently. The wine tastes good, warming you from the inside as the water warms you from the outside. As you sip, you watch the dynamic between the two girls. Yujin seems completely at ease, leaning back, swirling her wine, while Rei, though clearly more relaxed now, still seems slightly hyper-aware, occasionally glancing nervously at Yujin, then at you. The wine definitely helps, though. After a few more sips, Rei's posture loosens further, a genuine smile playing on her lips as she watches the steam curl upwards.

"Seriously though," Rei says after a comfortable silence, looking between you and Yujin. "Thank you both. For… well, for inviting me. Or letting me crash, whichever." She takes another sip of wine. "This place is amazing. I think I really needed this too, after everything." Yujin reaches over, playfully bumping Rei's shoulder. "Hey, all the credit for this genius idea goes to this one," she says, nodding towards you with an appreciative smile. "He organized the whole amazing surprise trip for me." She turns her attention back to Rei, her expression softening. She starts gently playing with the ends of Rei's wet hair where it floats on the water's surface, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. "You just relax, princess," Yujin murmurs, the pet name slipping out naturally. "You deserve it just as much after that crazy tour." Rei ducks her head slightly at the pet name, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, but she smiles, clearly not minding the affectionate term or the casual touch.

Yujin continues to hypnotically twist a lock of Rei's dark hair around her finger, her gaze fixed on Rei before suddenly looking directly at you. "Isn't she lovely?" Yujin asks, her voice soft, almost dreamy, but the question is pointed, demanding your participation. "Just adorable, right?"

You meet Yujin's gaze, then let your eyes drift over Rei; the cute face, flushed slightly now from the heat and wine, the surprisingly voluptuous body half-submerged in the steaming water, the wet hair clinging to her neck. Yujin isn't wrong. "Yeah," you agree, your voice coming out slightly rougher than intended. "She is. Very pretty." Rei's blush deepens instantly at your direct compliment. She looks down into her wine glass, then glances up at you quickly through her lashes. "Thank you..." she murmurs shyly, "...really."

Before Rei can look away completely, Yujin leans in suddenly, tilting her head. "So cute I could just eat you up!" she exclaims, and gives Rei's cheek a quick, playful nip with her teeth. It’s not hard, more of an affectionate nibble, but it’s startlingly intimate, fueled perhaps by the wine and the charged atmosphere.

Rei lets out a surprised little yelp, her eyes flying wide as she instinctively touches her cheek, looking at Yujin with a mixture of shock and amusement. Yujin just throws her head back and laughs, clearly enjoying Rei's flustered reaction. Rei swats playfully at Yujin's arm, giggling despite herself.

Yeah, the wine is definitely working its magic, alongside the simmering heat that has little to do with the water temperature. Yujin, sensing the shift, leans back against the stone ledge, swirling the wine in her glass, her eyes alight with mischief. She tops up Rei's glass, then yours, her movements fluid and deliberate. "We need to rearrange," Yujin announces suddenly, her gaze sweeping over the current seating arrangement. "Why are we sitting all spread out? This is supposed to be cozy." She looks pointedly at Rei. "Come on, princess, let's go flank our generous host. Make him feel appreciated." Rei hesitates for only a second before nodding, a tipsy giggle escaping her lips. "Okay, Unnie."

They both carefully maneuver through the water, splashing slightly, until they're positioned much closer to you. Yujin settles on one side, hip bumping yours companionably under the water, while Rei takes the spot directly opposite, close enough now that her knees occasionally brush yours. The proximity immediately cranks up the intensity, the steam trapping the scent of wine, chlorine, and their warm skin.

"You know," Yujin begins conversationally, though her tone is laced with intent, reaching out to gently stroke Rei’s wet shoulder, letting her fingers linger. "When I first texted you, Rei... floated the crazy idea of you maybe, possibly, joining us up here..." She pauses for dramatic effect, glancing at you. "This little one," she gestures towards Rei with her glass, "didn't even ask questions. No hesitation. Just texted back 'YES!' in all caps immediately." Yujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Seems someone was very eager for a little mountain getaway."

Rei splutters, splashing Yujin playfully. "Unnie! It wasn't exactly like that! You made it sound really nice..." Yujin just raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Mmmhmm. And," she continues, leaning closer to Rei, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for you to easily hear, "you should have seen her face later, when I called her. When I finally told her the little detail about how our host here," she nods towards you, "specifically mentioned finding a certain Naoi Rei 'adorably hot' that one time." Rei's face flames crimson, and she tries to hide behind her wine glass, muttering denials, but Yujin barrels on, clearly enjoying this. "She practically glowed, didn't you, princess? Couldn't stop smiling." Yujin winks at you over Rei's head.

"And don't even get me started," Yujin adds, turning back to Rei, "on how much you loved our little late-night debriefs during the tour. My very detailed... 'reports from the field'." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, making Rei groan and hide her face further. Yujin looks back at you, grinning. "Standard girl talk, you know. Just sharing... experiences." The implication hangs in the air: Yujin explicitly telling Rei details about your sex life. You decide to engage directly, turning your attention fully to Rei, whose blush now extends down her neck, disappearing into the water near the top of her lilac bikini.

"Is that true, Rei?" you ask, keeping your voice level, curious. "You enjoyed Yujin's... 'girl talk'?" Rei lowers her glass slowly, her eyes darting between you and Yujin. She takes a deep breath, seeming to gather her courage, fueled by the wine. "Well..." she starts, voice a little shaky but holding your gaze. "Unnie... she tells very vivid stories." A small, nervous smile plays on her lips. "It was... interesting. Hearing about... things." It's a confirmation, albeit a slightly flustered one. You can see her chest rising and falling a little faster now, her nipples clearly pebbled beneath the thin bikini fabric; maybe the cooling air hitting the wet fabric, maybe arousal, likely both.

Yujin laughs triumphantly. "Interesting? Oh, please! Admit it!" She nudges Rei again. "I bet you were lying there in your bunk after those calls, wide awake, picturing it all, huh? Imagining it was you underneath him instead of me?" She gestures towards you with a blatant lack of subtlety. "Picturing his hands on you, his mouth…?"

"Unnie! Stop it!" Rei squeals, splashing Yujin again, but there's no real heat behind it, only embarrassed giggling. She looks quickly at you, her eyes wide, then away again. "Maybe a little!" she finally admits, her tone muffled as she tries to hide her smile against her shoulder. "But it was your fault! Telling me all those things right before I was trying to sleep… it wasn't fair!" Even in her denial, there's an undertone of confession.

You can almost picture it: Rei, alone in her hotel room, listening to Yujin's explicit tales, her imagination running wild. The thought makes the pressure in your shorts almost painful. Yujin seems to sense Rei's flustered state, her arousal mixed with embarrassment. She assesses the situation, then pats the water beside you, or rather, directly over your submerged thighs. "You look uncomfortable all squished over there, princess," she says soothingly, though her eyes dance with calculation. "Why don't you come sit over here? On his lap. Much more comfortable, I bet."

Rei freezes, her eyes snapping towards the spot Yujin indicated—your lap. She looks at Yujin, then her wide, uncertain eyes land on you. She bites her lip, seeming torn between desire and nervousness. "Is... is that okay?" she asks you directly. Your heart hammers. This is a major step, orchestrated by Yujin but requiring Rei's explicit consent and action. You nod slowly, patting your thigh through the water as an invitation. "Yeah, sure. If you want to." Holding your breath, you watch as Rei carefully pushes herself off the ledge, maneuvering through the water towards you. She moves hesitantly at first, then with more purpose, finally positioning herself directly in front of you before slowly, carefully, lowering herself onto your lap, facing you.

Her wet skin slides against yours, her bikini bottom against your swim shorts. The initial contact is electric. You feel the surprising weight of her, the softness of her thighs pressing against yours, her stomach against your chest. Her arms instinctively come up to rest lightly on your shoulders for balance. She feels impossibly soft, warm, and undeniably real. You carefully bring your hands up, resting them gently on her waist, spanning the soft skin above the low-cut bikini bottoms. You feel her sharp intake of breath at your touch, her whole body tensing for a second before she seems to consciously relax, sinking slightly heavier onto you. Tentatively, her hands slide down from your shoulders to cover yours where they rest on her waist, her fingers intertwining with yours or maybe just gently massaging the back of your hands, a silent acceptance, even an encouragement, of your touch.

Yujin watches this entire transaction with a look of intense satisfaction, like a master puppeteer admiring her work. She takes a long, slow sip of her wine, letting the moment settle. "You know," she says eventually, dangerously casual, though her eyes gleam, "this reminds me..." She looks from Rei, now settled on your lap, back to you. "Way back, before you and I were even a thing..." Her gaze drifts back to Rei, who seems to freeze slightly at Yujin's tone. "...I used to help Rei relax just like this sometimes." Rei's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't deny it. "Remember those nights, princess?" Yujin continues softly, her voice intimate. "After a stressful practice? You'd come over, curl up on my lap just like this..." Yujin pauses, letting the image sink in, "...and I'd help you out downstairs. With my fingers."

Fuck.

Picturing Yujin—your Yujin—with her fingers buried inside Rei, Rei sitting on her lap, moaning… holy fuck. Hearing it spoken so casually, so possessively, makes your cock instantly strain against the confines of your shorts, becoming painfully, throbbingly hard beneath Rei's oblivious weight.

Rei surely must feel it now.

Yujin leans closer to Rei, ignoring your obvious physical reaction for the moment, focusing entirely on her friend now trapped on your lap, pinned by the memory and the present situation. "You miss that feeling, don't you?" Yujin probes gently. "Having someone's fingers teasing you just right? Making you come apart..." Rei trembles slightly, unable to meet Yujin's intense gaze. A tiny whimper escapes her lips. She manages a shaky, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes wide and glazed now with a mixture of memory, wine, and burgeoning need. "Yes..." she whispers. Yujin turns her triumphant gaze towards you, her eyes gleaming with manipulative delight and shared arousal. "Well?" she prompts, nodding towards Rei. "What are you waiting for? She clearly misses being touched. You should do it." Her voice is a command wrapped in suggestion. "Touch her." You look down at Rei, her face now tilted slightly upwards towards you, her lips parted, breathing shallowly. You can definitely feel your erection pressing insistently against the juncture of her thighs through the thin layers of your shorts and her bikini bottom.

"Rei?" you ask. "Do you want me to?" Rei's eyes flutter briefly, then focus on yours, dark pools of undeniable heat and pleading. She bites her already swollen lower lip. "Yes..." she breathes, the word shaky but firm. "Please... it would be... great." She leans slightly closer, her warm breath ghosting your cheek, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Unnie... Yujin said you're really good," she confesses, the final piece clicking into place, confirming the depth of their prior conversations. "With your fingers..." The invitation, the endorsement, the explicit permission hangs in the steamy air between you.

Rei's breathy consent, the confirmation that Yujin has already sung your praises ("good with your fingers"), hangs in the steam-filled air like an electric charge. Her eyes are locked on yours, wide and dark with a potent mix of wine, heat, and blatant, pleading need. She's heavy on your lap, the soft weight of her pressing down against your throbbing erection. There's no room for doubt, no space for hesitation now.

This is happening.

Your hand, still resting possessively on her waist, slides lower, fingers trailing over the smooth, wet skin revealed by the high-cut leg of her lilac bikini bottom. You feel her shiver beneath your touch, a full-body tremor that has nothing to do with cold. Your thumb traces the delicate line where the fabric meets her skin, right at the crease of her thigh. She lets out a tiny, sharp gasp, her fingers tightening instinctively on your hands where they still cover yours. Taking that as further encouragement, you carefully hook a finger under the thin, stretchy fabric of her bikini bottom, pulling it gently to the side. The movement reveals her completely beneath the water's surface: glimpses of soft folds, glistening pink flesh, looking impossibly vulnerable and inviting.

With painstaking slowness, you slide one finger forward, finding her entrance. She gasps again, louder this time, her head tipping back against your shoulder as your fingertip breaches her heat. Fuck, she feels incredible. Tight, velvety, impossibly hot. You push slightly deeper, feeling her inner muscles clench around your finger reflexively. "Mmmph," a soft, sweet moan escapes her lips, muffled against your skin. It’s the sound of pure, unguarded pleasure, and it sends another jolt straight to your already painfully hard cock. You add a second finger, sliding it in alongside the first, stretching her slightly. She whimpers, hips lifting instinctively off your lap for a second before settling back down, accommodating your intrusion. You start to move your fingers, a slow, exploratory rhythm, curling them slightly, searching, learning the feel of her. Her answering moans become less inhibited, soft sighs and sweet cries mixing with the gentle bubbling of the hot spring.

As you focus on exploring Rei's wet pussy, Yujin leans back against the stone edge beside you, watching the scene unfold with an unnervingly calm, intensely focused expression, like a scientist observing a fascinating experiment—albeit a scientist who is clearly getting turned on by the results. Her own breathing is slightly faster, her lips slightly parted, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. She takes a slow sip of wine, then begins to speak, her tone a low, seductive purr that cuts through the steamy air, deliberately amplifying the intimacy of the moment. "Mmm, listen to that sound," she murmurs, her gaze fixed on Rei's face, which is now flushed and contorted in pleasure. "She likes that, doesn't she, princess?" Yujin doesn't wait for an answer, her eyes flicking down to where your hand is working beneath the water, then up to meet your gaze.

"You know," she continues, "when I finally told her the full plan… not just that she was visiting, but that she was the main event..." Yujin lets the phrase hang in the air, savoring it. "...the official 'reward' for our very patient host here…" She smiles slowly. "...she practically melted right there on the phone. Couldn't stop asking questions. So excited, weren't you, Rei?" Rei just moans again in response, burying her face against your neck now, unable or unwilling to speak, lost in the sensations your fingers are creating.

Yujin chuckles softly, knowingly. "And she loved the idea… didn't you, baby?" she directs at Rei's hidden face, before looking back at you. "The idea of just… letting go for a week. Being taken care of. Being pampered, obviously, but also… being good." The word choice is deliberate, loaded. "Being obedient. She admitted she's fantasized about it… about submitting. Just handing over control and being told what to do, how to please." Yujin pauses, letting the implications sink in, her own arousal evident now in the slight flush on her cheeks and the undisguised heat in her voice. "So that's the deal," she declares, her tone becoming firm, almost business-like, yet still dripping with seduction. "For the rest of the week." She reaches out, trailing cool fingers across your bare shoulder, before gesturing between herself and Rei. "She's yours. Completely. We're yours." Her eyes lock with yours, intense and serious beneath the playful facade. "Anything you want. Any fantasy, any desire… consider it done. No limits, no questions asked. Our only job is to make you happy… and to take whatever you decide you want to give us." The sheer possessiveness in her tone, the explicit handover of control, the promise of absolute submission from both of them… it hits you like a drug. You feel your own cock pulse violently against Rei's backside, an involuntary throb of pure, unadulterated lust and power.

Rei certainly feels it. She gasps, her body going momentarily rigid against yours as your erection jerks beneath her. Her head snaps up from your shoulder, her eyes wide and glazed, looking at you with a mixture of shock and raw, escalating horniness. She knows exactly how turned on you are, pressed right up against her ass. And hearing Yujin lay out the terms, describing Rei's own supposed desire for submission while you're actively pleasuring her… it's clearly pushing Rei closer to the edge too. Her hips begin to move more deliberately against your fingers now, a small, instinctive grinding motion seeking more pressure, more friction. Her sweet moans are becoming louder, less inhibited, punctuated by sharp, breathy gasps. She clutches your arms tighter, her nails digging in slightly, not painfully, but with undeniable urgency.

The combination of Yujin's explicit, arousing words painting a picture of the week ahead, and the feel of Rei squirming and moaning on your lap, her tight heat clenching around your fingers, is making you dizzy with lust. You focus back on your task, increasing the pressure, finding a spot deep inside that makes Rei cry out, a high, keening sound that echoes off the water. Yujin watches, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk, her own body radiating waves of heat.

The night is dark now, the stars brilliant overhead, the steam swirling around the three of you in a cocoon of heat, wine, and rapidly escalating desire. Your fingers move faster inside Rei's slick pussy, finding a rhythm that makes her gasp and buck against your hand. She's incredibly responsive, her tightness clenching around you with every inward stroke, her wetness making your movements slick and easy. You alternate between deep, curling motions and circling pressure against that sensitive spot just inside her entrance, while your thumb finds her clit through the water, rubbing firmly, relentlessly.

Rei is completely lost in sensation now, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, sweet, helpless moans tumbling from her lips with increasing frequency. "Oh god… oh fuck… yes, right there," she gasps. "Please… please don't stop… fuck, I'm close… so close…" Her fingers dig into your shoulders, seeking purchase as her body trembles uncontrollably on your lap. Yujin watches, leaning forward slightly now. Her eyes are dark, pupils dilated, fixed on Rei's writhing form and your relentless fingers. "That's it," Yujin breathes. "Listen to her whimper… she needs it so bad. Make her come apart for us, baby. Make my little princess fucking scream all over your hand."

Yujin's crude encouragement, combined with Rei's desperate pleas, pushes your own excitement higher. You lean down, bringing your mouth close to Rei's ear, your lips brushing the sensitive shell. "You feel that, Rei?" you whisper. "How close you are? You're going to cum for me now. Right now. Let go. Fucking cum for me." Your words, low and demanding, seem to sever her last thread of control. A choked sob breaks from her throat. Her entire body goes rigid, tensing violently against you. Her inner muscles clench down hard around your fingers in a series of rapid, powerful pulses. A high-pitched, strangled cry rips from her lungs as her orgasm crashes over her, intense and overwhelming. She convulses on your lap, hips bucking spasmodically against your hand, riding out the waves of pleasure, completely undone. You hold her steady, keeping your fingers buried inside her, feeling the throbbing aftermath of her release, the hot slickness coating your hand.

As her shudders begin to subside, leaving her limp and trembling against you, gasping for breath, you gently lift her chin. Her eyes are unfocused, glazed with bliss, her face flushed a deep crimson, lips swollen and kiss-bruised looking. You capture her mouth with yours, a deep, possessive kiss, tasting the wine and her own unique flavor, a hint of salt from a tear of pleasure that escaped. You slide your tongue against hers, dominating the kiss for a moment before pulling back slightly, just enough to gently bite her plush lower lip, holding it for a second between your teeth. She whimpers softly at the small sting of pleasant pain. "Good girl," you murmur against her lips. "Such a good girl for me."

She just stares up at you, dazed and utterly pliant. You release her lip, letting your gaze drift from Rei's blissed-out face over to Yujin, who is watching you both with an intensely aroused, almost predatory gleam in her eyes. "Fuck," you breathe out, the word rough. "Seeing you like this," you nod towards Rei, still trembling slightly on your lap, "and hearing you talk like that," you glance at Yujin, acknowledging her filthy commentary and the power dynamic she established, "...you're both making me so fucking horny right now, it actually hurts."

The proof is undeniable, straining painfully against the inside of your swim shorts, pressed firmly against Rei’s soft backside. Action feels necessary, immediate. You gently take Rei's wrist, lifting her hand from your shoulder where it had been clutching tightly. Still holding her gaze, you guide her hand down through the warm water, pressing her palm flat against the thick, hard ridge of your erection straining beneath the damp fabric of your shorts. Her eyes fly wide open as her fingers make contact, a soft gasp escaping her lips. It takes her a second to process, then her fingers tentatively curl, closing around your length through the material. Even muffled by the fabric, the size and sheer hardness is obvious.

Her eyes widen further in genuine surprise, maybe even a little intimidation, before fascination takes over. Her fingers tighten, giving you an experimental squeeze, testing the feel of you. You watch her face, see the flicker of awe mixed with burgeoning, greedy curiosity. "You want this, Rei?" you ask, making sure Yujin can hear too. You push your hips forward slightly, letting Rei feel the full extent of your hardness pulsing against her palm. "Feel how hard you both make me?" Rei's breath hitches. She looks from her hand gripping your cock, up to your eyes, then maybe a quick, uncertain glance towards Yujin who nods almost imperceptibly, giving silent permission. Rei turns back to you, her eyes dark with newfound determination and undeniable lust. "Yes," she breathes. "God, yes… very much…"

Her confirmation is all you need. "Okay," you say softly, carefully easing Rei off your lap, helping her settle onto the submerged ledge beside where Yujin sits. Rei seems reluctant to let go, her eyes fixed on your groin. You stand up slightly in the hot water, ignoring the sudden rush of cooler air on your upper body, and quickly peel off your wet swim shorts, tossing them carelessly on the deck.

The second your cock springs free—thick, long, throbbing with blood and arousal—it draws a visible reaction. Rei’s lips part with a sharp little inhale, and Yujin's gaze drops instantly, lashes lowering with heat. You step up to the stone edge, placing one foot out of the spring, bracing it wide, grounding yourself, hips tilted just slightly forward. You know what you look like right now: cock hard and hanging heavy, glistening, your whole body haloed by steam and hunger.

“Come here,” you say. “Come suck.”

They don’t hesitate.

Yujin is first to move, slicking her soaked hair back as she wades forward, her eyes fixed to the way your cock twitches at the command. Rei’s right behind, crawling through the water like it’s instinctive, like her body doesn’t even require conscious thought anymore. She settles in beside Yujin, the two of them kneeling just at the lip of the spring, hands gripping the stone edge as they lean into you.

Yujin’s lips part as she leans in, but Rei beats her to it.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, almost reverently, breath warm as it ghosts across the head of your cock. “It’s huge…” She wraps a small, wet hand around your base, unable to fully close her fingers around it, and looks up at you like she’s discovered a secret meant only for her. “You weren’t kidding, unnie,” she murmurs without breaking eye contact. “You told me he was big, but… fuck. He’s thick. It’s so… hot.”

Your cock twitches hard in her hand, veins bulging under her fingers as she strokes you slowly, getting used to the heft, the weight of you. Yujin just grins, watching her like she’s proud of a new recruit.

“Told you,” Yujin says, inching closer. Her hand joins Rei’s, wrapping around the upper half of your shaft, and the two of them begin to stroke in sync—Rei near the base, Yujin working the upper half, their small hands overlapping, warm and slick from the spring. “He’s addictive. Just wait till you taste him.”

Rei’s breath catches, and she leans in, lips brushing the tip, kissing it like she’s testing heat from a fire. Then her mouth opens and she takes just the head into her mouth, slow, wide, soft lips forming a seal around your swollen tip. The warmth of her mouth makes your hips flex, your hands curling into fists at your sides. She lets out a soft, muffled moan, cheeks hollowing as she sinks down a little deeper.

Yujin doesn’t wait her turn—her mouth finds your balls, her tongue tracing slow, teasing circles over the sensitive skin before pulling one into her mouth with a hum of satisfaction.

“God, fuck,” you mutter, breath catching in your throat, stomach tightening as you watch them both worship you. Rei’s head bobs slow, tentative but eager, her mouth stretching wider every time she sinks a little deeper. She drools easily, spit rolling down your cock in messy strands, painting you wet and shiny. Yujin's sucking hard now, one hand gently massaging your other ball, and the contrast—Rei’s tight little mouth above, Yujin’s skilled tongue below—makes your knees tremble.

Rei pulls off with a gasp, strings of spit clinging between her lips and your cock, her eyes wide and wild. “It barely fits,” she breathes, stroking your length with both hands now, licking her lips like she’s starving. “It’s fucking perfect. Like… thick enough to make my jaw ache.”

Yujin chuckles, leaning in to lick a long stripe up the underside of your cock from base to tip, tongue flattening against the thick vein that pulses along it. “Bet your throat stretches around him,” she says to Rei. “Let me show you how deep he goes.”

Before Rei can reply, Yujin takes over, her mouth wrapping around your cock and sliding down like she knows exactly what she’s doing—and of course, she does. She takes more in one go than Rei managed, her lips sinking halfway down your shaft in one wet, practiced glide. She moans around you, vibrations rolling up your cock, eyes fluttering shut with bliss.

“Shit, baby,” you groan, reaching down to push her damp hair off her face, watching it cling to her cheeks. “That mouth is gonna make me lose it if you keep that up.”

Rei stares, spellbound, her fingers still wrapped tight around your base. “You’re seriously deepthroating him,” she says in awe, her free hand sliding down to her own chest, palm rubbing over the swell of one breast through the soaked bikini. “That’s so hot. I want to try.”

Yujin pulls off with a slick pop, grinning up at you, her lips red and swollen. “Tag team?”

You just nod, hips twitching, cock soaked and gleaming with their spit, twitching again when Rei leans in, licking a circle around your tip before slowly sinking down again, her tongue moving like she’s mapping every inch. Yujin stays low, trailing wet kisses along your balls and inner thighs, her fingers slipping between Rei’s stroking hands to cup your base.

“God, you taste amazing,” Rei whispers, looking up at you through thick lashes, her mouth returning to your cock without waiting for an answer. Her lips part and she sinks a little deeper this time, gagging slightly but not pulling away.

You’re groaning now, hips flexing forward in short, shallow thrusts, letting your cock nudge against the back of her throat just once—just enough to make her moan around you and pull back again, gasping for air.

Yujin leans up beside her, licking the side of your shaft before pressing her cheek to Rei’s. “Good girl,” she whispers. “You’re taking him so well. Bet your pussy’s soaking just from having his cock in your mouth.”

Rei whines, rubbing her thighs together beneath the water, still bobbing slowly on your cock, her hands trembling where they grip your hips.

Your hand slides down, fingers curling under her chin, lifting her off your cock with slow, wet resistance. Her lips pop off with a breathy gasp, her eyes glazed, mouth red and glistening. She licks the spit off her bottom lip like it’s sugar.

“Let’s take it further,” you say.

And both their eyes light up—Rei’s with wonder. Yujin’s with knowing.

Rei starts sucking your cock again, her lips stretched wide around your length, face flushed, her dark lashes fluttering every time your tip presses against the soft resistance at the back of her throat. Her tiny hand cradles your balls delicately, almost reverently, fingers splayed, palm warm against the slick weight of them. She’s trembling slightly, maybe from the heat, maybe from the way her mouth is completely full of your thick cock. Either way, the image is obscene, perfect—her soft cheeks bulging, eyes watery, her petite face dwarfed by the sheer size of you.

And she’s trying. Desperately. Gagging now and then, but not pulling back. Moaning low, the vibrations wrapping around your shaft, her lips soaked with spit and determination.

Yujin crouches beside her, one hand casually braced on Rei’s shoulder, the other gently stroking through her hair, occasionally slipping down to cup the side of her face, steady her. "Look at her," she murmurs, her breath hitting your thigh as she leans in. “Such a good girl. Taking that fat cock so deep already.” Her tongue flicks across her lips, eyes gleaming with heat. “You like that, baby? You like seeing our sweet little Rei choking on your dick?”

You groan, the sound guttural, involuntary. “Fuck yes.”

The heat coils tighter in your belly as you grip Rei’s jaw gently, guiding her mouth back to your cock, and this time—this time you don’t wait for her rhythm. You move. You slide in deeper, pushing past the resistance of her lips, her tongue, the soft clamp of her throat. She makes a surprised sound, a muffled whimper as her hands clutch at your thighs, but she doesn’t pull away. Her lips seal instinctively around you again as you push, slow at first, testing how far she’ll let you in.

And then you thrust.

Harder.

Faster.

Rei’s moan turns into a wet, choking sound, tears instantly springing to the corners of her wide eyes. You watch, transfixed, as your cock stretches her jaw, disappears between her lips again and again, her throat working frantically to take you. Her small, perfect face becomes a canvas for your desire—spit streaming down her chin, cheeks flushing deep pink, eyeliner starting to smear from the pressure building behind her eyes.

Yujin’s voice snakes up beside you, dirty and low. “That’s it. Fuck her face. Use that pretty little mouth.” Her grip tightens in Rei’s hair, not yanking, just anchoring her in place. “Don’t be shy, baby. She can take it. She wants it, look at her.”

You do. Rei looks up through the blur of tears and spit, and the expression in her eyes is devastating—need, submission, that messy pride of making you this desperate, this wild. She gags again as you bottom out in her throat, but her hands don’t push you away. She stays still for it, lets you rock your hips and fuck her mouth just the way you need. Her moans are guttural now, rising every time you slide deep into her throat and hold for a breathless moment before pulling back.

You can’t stop.

Every time you draw back and see the trail of spit that clings to your cock, the glisten of it painting her lips, it makes you growl—low and hot and feral. Her jaw is working to keep up, her face messy and slick, completely ruined for you. And Yujin—Yujin fucking loves it. Her hand strokes Rei’s cheek while her other dips between Rei’s legs, unseen beneath the bubbling surface of the water, but the sharp little gasps that break free between chokes tell you she’s not just comforting her.

“You’re making her so wet,” Yujin breathes, eyes half-lidded. “She’s so horny, I can feel it. Just from getting her throat used like this. Fuck, babe. She’s so fucking into it. You feel how she moans around your cock? She’s gonna cum just from this, just from choking on you.”

That image sears into your brain. Rei on her knees, sobbing, gagging, coming with nothing but your cock down her throat and Yujin’s fingers in her soaked cunt. You fuck her mouth deeper, harder, a few short brutal thrusts that make her gurgle and spasm, her eyes rolling up slightly. She coughs and chokes, but doesn’t pull back. Her nose presses against your pelvis, breath coming in desperate little hitches between thrusts.

“God—Rei,” you groan, your hand tightening at the base of her skull, your hips still grinding forward. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Yujin presses a kiss to the crown of Rei’s head, still holding her steady, her voice soft but edged with something twisted and proud. “That’s right, princess. Take it all. Let him use you.”

Rei lets out a strangled, needy whimper as she forces her eyes to look up again, lips stretched wide, tears tracking down her cheeks now. You don’t stop. Her throat is tight around you, wet and desperate and swallowing you again and again as you fuck into her with deep, powerful strokes.

“You gonna cum down her throat?” Yujin whispers beside you, licking her lips as she watches Rei drool around your cock. “You gonna stuff her little tummy full of your cum, huh? Let her feel it flood inside her? You know she’ll swallow every drop. She’d beg for it.” She shifts closer, one hand cupping your balls with slow, teasing strokes as Rei gags again, helpless, obedient. “I’d watch. I’d rub myself raw watching you finish in her mouth.”

Your control hangs by a fucking thread. Rei is a mess beneath you now, her mouth stretched red, spit pouring, eyes swimming—but she’s not stopping. She’s moaning around your cock like she loves it, even as she chokes, even as her throat spasms.

You don’t stop. You fuck her mouth harder.

You make her take it…

Your rhythm gets brutal. The slap of your hips against Rei’s flushed face echoes off the wood deck like a metronome set to ruin. You hold her by the back of the head now, no pretense of gentleness—just raw, driving need. Her lips are red and shiny, stretched to their limit, her cheeks stained with tears and saliva, your cock disappearing into the tight heat of her throat over and over with unrelenting force. She gags again, full-body spasms racking her frame, and you still don’t stop. Her hands are gripping your thighs, nails digging in as she tries to brace herself for the next deep thrust, her tiny form jolting with every fuck-deep stroke you feed her.

And then—she looks up.

Her eyes lock on yours, glassy, wet, completely wrecked and yet still wide open.

Wanting. Needing.

That look shoots straight down your spine like a lightning bolt. Something cracks inside you, a pressure that’s been building with every choking gasp, every wet drag of her lips, and it detonates in your gut.

“Fuck—” you grunt, your hand twisting in her hair, holding her face right where you want it. “I’m gonna cum—”

Yujin gasps beside you, like she’s been waiting to hear those exact words. Her tone is ragged now, laced with lust so thick it could choke. “Yes—fuck yes, baby, cum in her mouth. Give it to her. Stuff that little throat full. She’ll swallow it all.” Her fingers are already pulling her one-piece aside, the sleek black fabric dragged across her hip so she can slide two fingers directly into the slick mess between her thighs. “Look at her. She’s ready for it. She wants every fucking drop.”

Rei makes a choked noise around your cock, a garbled moan that shudders through your shaft as her throat clenches in anticipation. Her eyes never leave yours. She knows what she’s doing to you. Your hips jerk forward, faster now, desperate, out of control. You don’t care that she’s gagging, that her body convulses every time you push deep. She’s not stopping. She wants this.

Yujin’s hand is working between her thighs now, her other hand on Rei’s head, holding her steady as you use her mouth like a cock sleeve. Her lips part on a gasp. “Cum, baby,” she whispers, voice full of filth and adoration. “Cum in her mouth. Let her taste it. Fill her up so full she has no choice but to swallow every fucking drop. She’ll do it. She’s so good. Such a good little cocksucker for us.”

That’s it. That’s the last thread gone.

Your whole body locks. You push in deep, balls slapping wet against her chin, burying yourself fully down her throat. Her nose presses flush to your pelvis, her throat a tight, spasming vice around your cock—and then you explode.

“Fuck—fuck, take it—”

Thick jets of cum shoot down her throat, your cock twitching violently with every pulse, unloading more than you thought you even had in you. Rei chokes, spasms, her throat working frantically to swallow around your cock. She moans around it, eyes rolling back slightly, face flushed and raw and so fucking obedient as she gulps every single drop you feed her.

Yujin’s watching, panting, two fingers fucking herself hard and fast as she murmurs, “That’s it, swallow it—good girl, good fucking girl, don’t waste a drop—” Her own hips are jerking against her hand, the slap of fingers on wet flesh lost under the growl of your release.

You stay buried in Rei’s mouth until the last pulse fades, your thighs trembling, your hand still knotted in her hair. When you finally pull back, a long string of spit and seed clings from her lips to your cock before snapping, falling to her chin in a viscous trail. Rei gasps for air, coughing slightly, but she swallows again, visibly, her tongue darting out to catch the last of your mess. Her lips are puffy, cheeks shiny with tears, but she looks—fucking blissed out.

Yujin’s still panting, her hand shaking as she rubs herself through the aftershocks of her own orgasm. Then she leans forward, still flushed and glowing, and reaches down with one hand, tilting Rei’s chin up gently.

“Tongue out,” Yujin says softly. “Show me.”

Rei obeys instantly, her mouth falling open, tongue extended—wet, pink, glistening with spit and cum.

Yujin moans.

She leans in, pressing her mouth to Rei’s, not a kiss—no, this is something else entirely. She sucks on Rei’s tongue, slow and dirty, her lips sealing over it, her cheeks hollowing as she drinks the remnants of your cum from Rei’s mouth like it’s her fucking reward.

Rei moans again, hands twitching in the water, her whole body visibly shuddering from the sheer intensity. When Yujin finishes, chin drooling, Rei gasps for air, looking completely ruined, yet entirely hot.

“So,” Yujin says softly against Rei’s ear, “what’d you think?” Her hand drifts up, knuckles grazing the side of Rei’s neck, fingers trailing back down the curve of her spine. “You like being used like that? Mouth full of cock, throat stuffed like a little toy?”

Rei lets out a shaky laugh, cheeks coloring deeper, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she runs her hand up your thigh, fingers grazing the inside, slow and teasing, until she’s just beneath your cock again, her palm flat against your skin, dangerously close. She glances up at you, lips still wet, and that shy-turned-hungry smile spreads across her face like she’s only just realizing how much she loved it.

“I felt… so slutty,” she admits, almost breathless. “Like I was just a thing. A plaything for you. It was…” Her fingertips slide higher, brushing your balls with delicate, lingering pressure. “It was hot.” Her eyes search yours, equal parts reverent and mischievous. “Was it good for you?”

You reach down, gently cradling her cheek in one hand, thumb brushing across her damp jaw as you lean in. She closes her eyes, tilting into the touch. You press a kiss to her forehead, slow and warm. “It was perfect,” you murmur.

Then she feels it—your cock, still hard, still heavy, throbbing just inches from her face.

You don’t need to say it.

Yujin’s already watching the twitch of your shaft, the tension in your body, the way your hips are still subtly tilted forward like you’re fighting not to grind against Rei’s hand. “Mmm,” she hums, lips brushing Rei’s shoulder. “Still so hard… Guess you’re not done with us yet, huh?” She meets your eyes with a wicked grin. “You still have a lot of cum to give, don’t you?”

You nod slowly, jaw tight, blood still pumping hot with need.

“Then come on,” Yujin says, standing up and pulling Rei with her, water cascading down both their bodies in glistening streams. “Inside. It’s freezing out here and I want more to fuck without slipping into the damn hot spring.”

You laugh under your breath, grabbing a towel where you left it around the hot spring. Rei stumbles slightly, still a little dazed from the throatfucking, and Yujin steadies her with one arm, pulling her close as you wrap the towel around your waist. You grab another for the girls, slinging it around their shoulders like a shared cocoon, all three of you huddled together as you hurry across the deck. The cold wind slices at your skin, but you barely feel it. The only real heat lives between your legs and in the way both of them press against you—Rei at your left side, damp hair clinging to her neck, and Yujin at your right, one hand tucked low against your back, fingers sneaking lower.

You reach the door and stumble inside, laughing as you kick it shut behind you. The warmth hits instantly, the heat from the fire wrapping around your bodies. The towel clings wetly to your thighs. You’re still dripping, still slightly shivering, but that doesn't matter because you’re already pulling them toward the bedroom, your free hand tangled in Yujin’s.

The bed swallows you as you drop back onto it, not even bothering to pull the covers back. The girls land beside you, Rei’s towel slipping off her shoulders, baring one flushed shoulder, the curve of her breast peeking out. You catch her, hand sliding behind her neck as you pull her in for a kiss. Her lips are soft and wet and still taste faintly of you. Her body presses into yours, towel loosening, the curve of her hip against your bare side.

You break the kiss and turn to Yujin, who’s already crawling up your chest like a predator, straddling your waist. You pull her down, mouth colliding with hers in something rougher, deeper. Tongues slide. Teeth graze. She moans into you, grinding her hips slowly against your stomach.

Then you pull both of them in—arms around their waists—and your mouths meet in a chaotic tangle. A triple kiss, hot and messy, your tongues brushing, lips dragging, breathing in each other’s heat. It’s clumsy in the best way—spit-slicked and uncoordinated and absolutely filthy. Rei moans softly into your mouth, then turns her head slightly and kisses Yujin, their lips pressing together in a quiet gasp, and you just watch, heart pounding, cock pulsing, as the two of them fall into each other’s mouths like they were always meant to.

“Mmh,” you murmur, reaching between them to cup Rei’s ass, giving it a slow, possessive squeeze. “Take off the swimsuits.” Your cock is already twitching in your hand, precum beading at the tip as you stroke slowly, eyes fixed on the girls as they scramble to obey.

Yujin’s already halfway out of her black one-piece, dragging the fabric over her hips with a sharp tug. She shrugs it down her shoulders and tosses it to the floor, stretching out on the bed naked and glowing, her thick thighs spread just enough to flash a teasing hint of the pink between them. Rei hesitates for a second, Then she unties her bikini top, letting her breasts fall free and heavy, after that she finally takes off her bottom.

And there she is. Fully nude. Finally.

You don’t even try to hide your reaction—your cock throbs violently in your fist at the sight. Her body is delicate, soft curves where you imagined them, her breasts, bigger than Yujin's, are fuller and rounder too, her waist tapering down to a gentle flare of hips, her pussy bare, glistening faintly with the mix of arousal and water. She flushes under your gaze, biting her lip, eyes dropping to your cock like she knows exactly what she’s done to you.

You don’t give her time to second guess.

You grab her, pulling her close, crashing your mouth to hers again. One hand grips her ass—juicy, smooth, perfect in your palm—the other sliding up to cup her breast, your thumb brushing over the pebbled nipple. She gasps into the kiss, hips jerking against yours, her chest rising sharply as you roll the nipple between your fingers.

Then Yujin groans.

“Don’t forget about me, baby!” You can feel the arousal in her voice, needier than she probably means it to sound. “You think I’m gonna just lie here and watch while you play with your new toy?”

You grin, breaking the kiss with Rei, and turn to face her.

“Impossible,” you say simply, crawling between her thighs, lining your cock up with the heat that’s practically dripping from her greedy pussy. “You’re unforgettable.”

Yujin arches into you the second your tip presses against her, her hands flying to her breasts, squeezing them together as you push inside, slow and heavy. She lets out a loud, shameless moan, her head tipping back, mouth open, one leg locking around your waist.

“Fuck—yes, that’s it—fill me up—”

You start thrusting, your rhythm fast from the start, desperate to bury yourself in that velvet heat. Her pussy grips you like it remembers, like it missed you as much as you missed it, and your breath shudders out of you as you drive in harder.

Yujin reaches for Rei, pulling her closer, guiding the girl to straddle her chest. “Come here, baby,” she whispers, mouth already open, eyes hazy. “Let me taste you too.”

Rei moans softly, hips jerking as she moves, and a second later Yujin wraps her lips around one of Rei’s breasts, sucking it deep into her mouth while she’s beneath you, spread wide and soaking wet, her thighs slick with arousal and your cock punching into her over and over in a rhythm that’s pure desperation. Her body rocks up with every thrust, tits bouncing, hands braced on Rei’s waist as she keeps her mouth locked around one perfect breast. Her lips are sealed tight around Rei’s nipple, tongue swirling and flicking with the kind of focused hunger that makes Rei gasp, her fingers tightening in Yujin’s hair, head tipped back in a dazed, helpless moan.

Your hands are gripping Yujin’s hips, pulling her down hard to meet every thrust, drowning in the soft gasps and wet sucking noises filling the air. You’re balls-deep, your cock practically dragging her moans out of her with every stroke, and she’s so fucking tight around you—like her pussy is trying to milk every ounce of cum out of your body, even though you’ve barely recovered from the last time.

“Fuck,” Yujin groans, lips slick with spit and soft pink skin as she pulls back from Rei’s chest just for a breath, then dives right back in with a growl, dragging her tongue across the other breast. “Taste so good. Don’t stop, baby.”

Rei’s thighs tremble as she shifts forward, her body flush against Yujin’s, straddling her chest while you pound into her from below. Her hand trails down, fingertips feathering along Yujin’s stomach, nails grazing lower until she finds the swollen cunt between Yujin’s thighs. You feel her touch even from where you are, your cock brushing the edge of her fingers as she slides them across Yujin’s clit in slow, deliberate circles.

Yujin’s reaction is instant.

She cries out, arching her back hard, her tits pressing up into Rei’s mouth, the sudden pulse of pleasure making her tighten around you like a fist. “Shit—yes—right there, keep going!” she gasps, grinding herself against Rei’s hand even as she tries to fuck herself harder on your cock. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

Rei’s breath hitches, her fingers working faster now, slipping through the flood of wetness as her thumb flicks Yujin’s clit with practiced precision. Her voice is breathless, reverent. “You’re so beautiful like this, unnie,” she whispers, eyes fixed on Yujin’s flushed face, her parted lips, the tears beading at the corners of her eyes from the intensity. “Getting fucked like this… moaning for his cock, clenching so tight… it’s making me so fucking horny.”

Yujin lets out a choked moan, her hips jerking violently between you both, your cock slamming deep as her cunt contracts around you like she’s on the edge. Her hands claw at the sheets, at Rei’s hips, her teeth grazing Rei’s nipple as she bites down lightly, overwhelmed by the dual assault of your cock pounding into her and Rei’s fingers teasing her clit with such focused intent.

“You hear that?” you growl, leaning down to press your chest to Yujin’s, your lips brushing her ear. “You’ve got her dripping just watching you get ruined on my cock.”

Yujin nods frantically, her legs spreading wider, her heels digging into the mattress. “Yeah—fuck, I can feel it—feels so fucking good—I’m gonna—”

But she doesn’t finish the sentence. Rei’s fingers are too precise, too hungry, and your pace doesn’t let up for a second. You slam into her again and again, her body jerking under yours, her cunt fluttering around you in a frantic, desperate rhythm. Rei moans softly as Yujin sucks harder on her breast, her own thighs grinding against Yujin’s stomach, every one of her senses lit on fire by the sight of her unnie breaking apart beneath you.

And still—you don’t stop.

Yujin’s body is shaking now, her moans slipping into helpless little cries that bounce off the bedroom walls, every breath stuttering through clenched teeth as your cock drills into her harder, deeper, without pause. Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, drool smeared on her bottom lip, and her fingers claw at the sheets like they might anchor her through the hurricane you and Rei are dragging her into. Her thighs tremble around your waist, flexing and locking every few seconds like she’s fighting off the inevitable—like her orgasm’s already coiling hard in her core, just waiting for permission to destroy her.

And you and Rei? You’re fucking relentless.

You pound into her with wild, piston-like thrusts, hips snapping forward as you bury your cock again and again in her slick, greedy pussy. She's soaked, you can feel it with every wet slap of your bodies—feel the obscene gush of her arousal coating your length, dripping down your balls. Rei hasn’t moved from between Yujin’s thighs, her fingers circling her clit with expert rhythm, her other hand groping Yujin’s tits, squeezing and slapping them playfully, watching the way they bounce with each thrust you give her. Her eyes are wide with hunger, her mouth parted as she pants against Yujin’s stomach.

Yujin screams through her teeth, her voice raw. “Fuck—fuck—I’m close—so fucking close—”

You lean in, grabbing her by the jaw, making her look at you. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?” you snarl, grinding your hips deep. “You gonna cum all over my cock like a good fucking slut?”

Rei's giggle is high and bright, but there’s a filthy edge to it, a manic kind of thrill in her tone as she presses harder against Yujin’s clit. “She is, she’s so close,” Rei coos, licking her fingers to taste Yunjin's juices and then returning the relentless assault. “Look at her. Fucking wrecked. She’s gonna explode just from us using her. You gonna cum, unnie?” Her fingers slap Yujin’s clit once, a sharp flick that makes her jolt, back arching off the bed. “You gonna make a mess for us?”

“Say it,” you growl, fucking her harder. “Say it, cum for me.”

“Do it, slut,” Rei spits, her tone suddenly darker, filthier. “Cum like the whore you are. You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch in heat. Getting used by your dongsaeng and your man like a cheap little cumrag.”

Yujin’s eyes flutter back in her head, a long, trembling moan spilling from her throat. “Yes—yes—I’m your fucking whore——I don’t care, just don’t stop—please, don’t stop—”

Rei's dirty talk turns savage, insatiable, you can hardly recognize her. “That’s right. Take it, slut. Let everyone see how much of a mess you are. Getting pounded like a dumb little toy, drooling like a dog. Bet your pussy’s gonna squirt all over the bed, huh? Gonna fucking soak us, unnie?”

“Cum for us,” you demand, breath burning through your chest as your cock slams into her again, again, again. “Fucking cum—now.”

Rei’s voice layers on top of yours, teasing, cruel, loving it. “Do it, unnie—cum on his cock like a little whore, make a fucking mess—cum—”

Yujin breaks.

She screams—no words, just pure noise, the kind that comes from deep in the gut, primal and raw—and her body locks up beneath you, thighs squeezing around your waist as her pussy spasms violently around your cock. Then it hits—hard—a sudden gush that blasts out of her, hot and wet, soaking your hips, your stomach, the sheets beneath her.

“FUCK—she’s squirting,” Rei shrieks, laughing in breathless delight, pulling her hand back to watch Yujin’s orgasm drench everything. “Oh my god, you’re squirting for us, you filthy little slut—fuck, that’s hot—”

The bed is soaked, dripping with the force of it, and still you keep fucking her, your cock driving through the spasms of her climax like you’re determined to draw every drop of pleasure out of her trembling body. Her hands are limp beside her head, fists curled into the sheets, her chest heaving with every gasping breath, her mouth slack and smiling, glowing with fucked-out bliss.

Rei's crawling up beside her now, brushing the wet hair from her face, giggling softly as she kisses her cheek. “So fucking pretty like this,” she whispers, tracing her fingers along the mess between Yujin’s thighs. “You’re perfect when you cum like that. You’re our perfect little cumslut.”

Yujin just sighs, her eyelids fluttering, her lips curling into a lazy, satisfied smile. “I love you both,” she murmurs. “So fucking much.”

Her skin glowing with sweat and afterglow, her inner thighs glistening with her own juices. Her breath comes in soft little sighs, each exhale a ripple of contentment across her flushed lips. But her eyes—they’re sharp now, glinting with a familiar spark as they shift from you to Rei. Rei’s sitting on her knees beside her, hair tousled, still giggling under her breath, clearly reveling in the chaos of Yujin's explosive orgasm, fingers tracing random shapes across the wet sheets like a girl who’s just watched her favorite fireworks show and wants it all over again.

Yujin watches her with a tilt of her head, her lips curling up slowly into something delicious. “You know…” she says in a warm voice, a little hoarse, “I think Rei might be getting a little too comfortable calling me a whore.”

That catches Rei’s attention immediately. She blinks, straightens up slightly, eyes flicking to you, then back to Yujin. “I was just… helping,” she says with mock innocence, but her smirk betrays her.

Yeah. She’s definitely not sorry.

You glance at Yujin, eyebrow raised, and she grins up at you. “Don’t you think our little baby here’s being a bit bossy? Throwing all that dirty talk around like she forgot who the real slut is?”

You chuckle, rolling your hips slowly into Yujin one last time before pulling out, your cock heavy and still hard, glistening with her juices. “I do,” you say, meeting Rei’s gaze. “Sounds like someone needs a reminder about her place.”

Rei’s expression falters for just a second—her breath catches, her thighs clench subtly—and then her tongue darts out across her bottom lip.

“W-what do you mean?”

Yujin hums, her hand reaching out to stroke Rei’s cheek. “It means, baby girl, you forgot that I’m your unnie,” she says sweetly. “And you don’t get to call me names like that unless we tell you to.” Her fingers trail down to Rei’s lips, thumb brushing her lower one. “So I think it’s time you show a little respect, don’t you?”

You nod, shifting on the bed, your hand tangling in Rei’s hair. “Start by cleaning her up,” you say, firm and low. “That pussy’s a mess because of you. Lick her clean. Use that filthy little mouth for something useful.”

Rei hesitates for half a beat. Then, slowly, deliberately, she crawls down Yujin’s body, eyes never leaving yours. She settles between her unnie’s thighs, her hands sliding under Yujin’s knees to hold her open, and lowers her face.

The second her tongue flicks out and brushes across Yujin’s oversensitive clit, Yujin’s entire body jerks.

“Fuck—” she hisses, hips twitching violently. “Oh my god—so sensitive—”

But she doesn’t stop her. In fact, her legs fall wider apart, trembling slightly, breath ragged. Rei’s tongue moves slowly, almost reverently at first, lapping up every trace of cum and slick smeared across Yujin’s swollen folds. Her mouth shines with it within seconds, spit and juice and sweat painting her chin as she dives in deeper, tongue curling through Yujin’s folds, licking around her clit, flicking across the soft skin just below.

Yujin moans, hands fisting in the sheets. “Holy shit, baby girl… You’re lucky I’m not too wrecked to push you off—fuck—right there—”

Rei moans softly, her own thighs rubbing together as she licks Yujin clean, slowly, thoroughly, like she’s savoring every drop. Her hands keep Yujin’s legs open even as they twitch and quake, her tongue moving with agonizing patience over every inch of her unnie’s cunt.

Finally, when Yujin pushes at her head with a shuddering breath, too sensitive to take more, Rei pulls back—her lips glossy, cheeks flushed, her mouth open and panting. She looks up at you for approval, eyes wide and pupils blown, her mouth slick and pink.

You reach down and cup her jaw, pulling her in close. You kiss her—deep and dirty, tongue sliding into her mouth to taste your girl’s cum straight from her tongue. She melts into it instantly, moaning against your lips, her hands gripping your arms for balance.

“Good girl,” you murmur against her mouth. “You clean your unnie up so sweet.”

You shift on the bed, stretching out onto your back. Yujin smiles and rolls to the side, still catching her breath, propped up on her elbow to watch. You pat your thigh, eyes locked on Rei. “Now ride me. Let me feel that tight little pussy.”

Rei’s breath catches, eyes wide as she moves into position. She swings one leg over your hips, straddling you. Her hands plant on your chest, and she lines herself up—gripping your cock in one shaking hand and guiding the head to her soaked slit. You both groan at the contact.

She lowers herself slowly, inch by inch, and the tight heat of her pussy wraps around your cock like a vice.

“Shit,” you groan, your head tipping back. “Fucking tight—Jesus—”

Rei gasps, mouth open as she sinks down fully, her walls stretching wide to take your full length. Her nails dig into your chest, her entire body shaking as she bottoms out, your cock pulsing inside her.

“Oh my god,” she moans, hips trembling. “I—he’s so big—I feel so full—”

She sits there for a second, breath stuttering, getting used to it. Then, slowly, achingly, she starts to move—lifting her hips an inch, then sliding back down. Over and over, slow and shallow, her body adjusting to the stretch, her breath catching every time your cock brushes deep inside her.

Yujin watches with that wicked smile returning, eyes glued to where your bodies meet. “Look at her,” she purrs, reaching out to run her hand down Rei’s spine. “Fucking herself on that cock like she was made for it.”

And you don’t disagree.

Because Rei looks like she was made to be fucked just like this.

Rei begins to move with more confidence, her breath soft and fluttering with each bounce, hips rolling into a rhythm that makes her moan louder with every rise and fall. Her knees dig into the mattress on either side of your thighs, thighs flexing, slick skin catching the low firelight as she works herself down your cock with growing need. She’s tight, unbelievably so, her pussy stretching just enough to take you, her inner walls clenching around you like they want to keep every inch buried inside. The sounds—wet, obscene, addicting—mix with her whimpers, the slap of her hips against yours, the breathy gasps that escape her parted lips every time your cock punches up into that spot that makes her whole body twitch.

You grip her waist, thumbs digging into the soft dip above her hips, guiding her, not controlling—just giving her something to grind against. And fuck does she grind. Her pace picks up, small moans catching in her throat, her head falling back as she bounces a little harder, a little deeper. Her hair sticks to her neck and shoulders, her breasts rising and falling with each thrust.

Yujin’s watching, eyes hungry, a slow grin curving across her lips. She shifts up onto her knees, scooting closer until her chest presses against Rei’s back. Her hands reach around, cupping Rei’s tits, squeezing them roughly. Rei lets out a sharp gasp, arching against her, grinding your cock even deeper inside herself.

“Mmm,” Yujin hums, kissing the curve of Rei’s neck, her fingers pinching lightly at her nipples. “Tell me, isn't his cock better than my fingers, baby?” she whispers, sliding one hand down to press against Rei’s belly, feeling how deep you’re inside her. “Still think they feel better than his cock?”

Rei’s head tips forward, lips trembling. “N-no,” she gasps, voice high and shaking. “Nothing—nothing’s better than this. Than him.”

Yujin bites at her shoulder lightly, dragging her tongue across the red mark left behind. “That’s what I thought.” Her hand snakes back up, fingers rolling Rei’s nipples again, harder now, making her whimper and clench around you. “You look so fucking hot like this, getting ruined on his cock.”

You groan, hands sliding up Rei’s sides to meet Yujin’s, fingers brushing, the three of you moving together like a machine of heat and rhythm. Rei keeps riding, her moans getting louder, sharper, her body rocking forward every time your hips meet hers. You thrust up to meet her now, hard and deep, the rhythm intensifying until the wet slap of skin is constant, echoing through the room.

Yujin laughs softly, catching the way your jaw tightens, your eyes locked to where your cock disappears into Rei’s soaked pussy. She reaches down and brushes her fingers across your cheek, dragging your attention up to her face.

“You like watching her ride you, huh?” she says with a voice like velvet, sultry and knowing. “Like seeing our little toy bounce on your cock like she’s starving for it.”

You let out a low groan, hips jerking up harder into Rei, making her cry out and collapse forward against your chest.

“She’s perfect,” you breathe, your hands gripping Rei’s hips harder now, keeping her locked in your rhythm. “Fuck, you’re the best girlfriend in the world, Yujin.”

Yujin giggles, delighted, her lips brushing your jaw. “Damn right I am.” She leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, her tongue curling against yours, wet and hot and tasting like sex. Rei’s still riding through it, gasping between you both, her breath stuttering against your neck as her cunt milks your cock with every thrust.

You break the kiss just in time to watch her sit up again, her face pink and glowing, her body slick with sweat. She grinds down harder now, her pussy gripping you tighter, her rhythm more frantic, needier. Her hands press to your chest, nails raking slightly as she tries to steady herself, to keep control, but she’s unraveling—every second on your cock breaking her down more.

Yujin leans forward again, wrapping her arms around Rei from behind, pulling her flush to her chest. “Don’t slow down now, baby,” she whispers, lips brushing Rei’s ear. “Show him how good that tight little cunt of yours is. Make him lose his fucking mind.”

Rei moans, louder than before, her entire body jolting as she rides harder, faster. She rides you like she’s unraveling, hips jerking faster, sloppier, every grind more desperate than the last. Her moans have lost all inhibition—high, sweet, sharp little cries that echo off the walls, spiraling up through the rafters of the mountain home and disappearing into the cold air beyond the glass. She’s not holding back anymore. Every bounce makes her whimper, her thighs clapping down against yours, sweat glistening along the curve of her spine. Her tits sway with every frantic motion, her hands splayed on your chest as she fucks herself on your cock like she’s chasing something too big for her little body to hold.

“I—fuck—I’m close,” she gasps, eyes fluttering shut, head tilting back as her voice cracks on the confession. “So close—”

And god, hearing that, feeling how wet she’s gotten, how tight her pussy’s squeezing you like a vice, like she’s trying to hold you inside forever—it does something to you. The idea that she’s about to cum this fast, just from riding you, just from being watched and used and praised, carves itself into your memory. You know you'll use this to your advantage later.

You drag your hands up her sides, gripping her waist tight, halting her just enough to make her whimper in protest.

“Turn around,” you say. “I want to see that perfect ass swallowing my cock while you cum.”

Rei doesn’t hesitate. She bites her lip, nods quickly, and lifts herself off you with a breathless moan, your cock slipping free, drenched in her slick. She pivots around, her knees pressing to either side of your hips, her back now to your chest. She looks over her shoulder once, cheeks red, hair clinging to her damp skin, eyes glassy with submission.

And then she sinks back down.

You groan like you’re being pulled under water—her pussy splits around your cock again, tight and soaking, the new angle even more punishing. Her ass presses down against your pelvis, and fuck, it’s perfect. Juicy, round, the way it bounces with every move—it’s hypnotic. You can see everything now. The pink stretch of her cunt around you, the soft ring of her hole hugging your shaft like it was made for you. Every grind, every bounce, lets you watch her fuck herself open in real time.

“Holy fuck,” you hiss, hands grabbing handfuls of her hips as you push up into her. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

Yujin lets out a low whistle from beside you. “Damn,” she says, kneeling behind her, eyes locked on the way Rei’s pussy grips your cock. “That ass is unreal.”

Then she slaps it. Hard.

Rei jolts, letting out a surprised cry, her whole body shaking from the impact. Yujin grins, slapping her again, the sound sharp, obscene.

“Faster,” she commands, dragging her nails across Rei’s back. “I said faster, slut. Don’t slow down now. You’re about to cum, right? Show him how desperate you are.”

Rei lets out a broken moan, hips snapping faster, the cheeks of her ass bouncing wildly now, jiggling with every impact. Her hands dig into your thighs for leverage, her body working like she’s chasing orgasm with everything she’s got. Yujin leans forward, grabbing a handful of her ass and spreading her open, just to get a better view of your cock slamming into her soaked pussy.

“This your place now, huh?” Yujin sneers, slapping her again. The mark blooms bright red on her pale cheek. “Still think you’re the bossy one? Still wanna call me names?” Her voice drops to a growl, filthy and dripping with delight. “Look at you now. Just a fucktoy, getting your pussy destroyed for our entertainment. Serving daddy like a good little cumdump.”

Rei cries out, her moans high-pitched, shaky, legs trembling as she grinds down hard, trying to stay on rhythm even as her body threatens to fold. “Y-yes—yes, this is my place—want to serve you—want to make you both feel good—”

You slap her other cheek, hard enough to make it bounce and match Yujin’s. “Then fucking keep going,” you growl, your hands now dragging her down, your cock driving up into her with every bounce. “You want to cum? Then show me. Ride me like you mean it.”

Rei’s pace turns frantic, desperate. Her moans turn to cries, sharp and breathless, her hands gripping your knees so tight her knuckles turn white. Yujin’s slaps don’t stop—quick, hard, alternating cheeks, making her ass bloom with bright handprints. Rei’s entire body shudders with each one, her moans rising in pitch.

“You’re so fucking close,” you say. “I can feel it. You’re choking my cock. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

“Daddy—oh god—fuck—I’m—”

You feel it—first in the subtle quiver of Rei’s thighs, then in the tightening of her pussy around your cock, pulsing rhythmically, almost pleading. Her pace falters for the first time, hips starting to stutter, her cries growing sharper, pitched higher with every bounce. You know that sound. That trembling, fragile edge of control that always shatters a second later. She's about to cum, and it's coming hard.

So you take over.

Your hands clamp down on her waist, dragging her down onto you harder, faster, each thrust slamming into her with force that makes her cry out, her nails digging into your thighs as she tries to brace herself. Her body rocks under the impact, spine arching as your cock pounds up into her, hitting that sweet, devastating spot over and over again.

"Fuck—fuck—he’s fucking me so hard!!" she screams, breathless and wild.

Yujin is right there behind her, her palm cracking against Rei’s already raw ass, loud and sharp. The mark deepens into a blazing red, the flesh bouncing with the blow. Rei howls, her voice breaking with the shock and pleasure. She can’t even stay upright anymore—her back arches, her body trembling like she’s about to break apart completely.

“Oh my god, she’s shaking,” Yujin laughs, breathless herself, her hand striking again, then again. “You’re gonna cum, huh? Gonna cream on his cock, you needy little bitch?” She grabs Rei’s hair, pulls her head back just enough to see her face—eyes fluttering, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

“Say it,” you growl, your hands moving now—spreading her ass open, wide, so you can watch everything. Her swollen pink pussy clenched tight around your cock, her slick dripping down your shaft and balls, and above that—her tight, twitching little asshole winking with every thrust.

The view is obscene. Filthy. Perfect.

Rei screams, her hands slamming against your legs for leverage, her whole body jolting. “I’m cumming—I’m fucking cumming—oh my god—DADDYYY!”

She falls forward with it, collapsing against your chest as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy clenches violently, sucking at your cock like it’s trying to drain you, her body convulsing with each wave. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream, her breath caught, eyes rolling back as she trembles through it, completely undone. You hold her in place, grinding your cock deep inside, keeping her filled through every shake.

She’s so tight—too tight—and it nearly breaks you.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you growl, your hands clutching her ass, your hips still rolling up into her softly now, chasing that last spark of heat. “Get off. Now. Lie down.”

Rei shudders one last time, barely able to move, and Yujin helps her off your cock, your length sliding out wet and throbbing. A thick strand of cum and slick clings from her dripping pussy to your cockhead, and your hands are already guiding them both.

“On the bed,” you command. “Heads on the edge. Open those mouths.”

Yujin smirks, moving without hesitation, dragging Rei with her. The girls crawl across the bed, bodies flushed and glistening with sweat, their asses in the air, breasts pressing into the sheets. They lie on their stomachs side by side, faces turned up, heads hanging slightly off the mattress, mouths parting in perfect unison.

Your cock is throbbing, heavy and ready to blow. Their tongues stretch out instinctively, eyes full of eager heat.

You step in close, cock heavy and gleaming, inches from their waiting mouths, and you let it fall against Yujin’s lips first. She smiles without breaking eye contact, licking the tip slowly, deliberately, her tongue circling the crown before flicking up under the frenulum. That single motion almost makes your knees buckle. Her mouth is warm, practiced—she sucks the head in, sealing her lips around it so tight that you almost cum right there.

Then you shift, feeding more to her. She takes a few inches easily, sucking hard enough to make your thighs tense, tongue teasing every ridge and vein as you begin to fuck slowly into her mouth. Wet, obscene sounds rise up between her lips and your cock—every time you push deeper, her throat hums around you, moaning softly like she needs it, like this is how she says thank you.

But it’s Rei who stuns you next.

When you pull from Yujin’s mouth with a soft pop, a thin strand of spit clinging to your tip, Rei tilts her chin higher, holding her mouth open like a good little slut, and you slide in—slow at first, watching the stretch of her lips around your girth, her lashes fluttering as the head pushes over her tongue, then deeper. She doesn’t stop you. She doesn’t flinch.

She swallows everything.

“Fuck—Rei,” you groan, hands gripping her jaw, guiding the pace now as her throat opens and her lips press flush against your base. “You just took it all, huh?”

Her answer is a wet gag and a shiver that rolls down her spine—but she doesn’t pull back. You feel her throat clench, a tremble passing through her whole body, and she moans around your cock, gurgling softly. Her nose is against your pelvis, her lips stretched around you, and it’s all too fucking much.

You start to fuck her throat properly now, pulling back an inch or two before driving back in, over and over, your cock disappearing down her tight, hot throat while Yujin strokes herself beside her, moaning softly as she watches.

“Look at her,” Yujin purrs, reaching out to brush hair back from Rei’s face. “So eager now. You were such a brat earlier, but this? This is your place. Swallowing cock for us. And you’re so fucking good at it.”

Rei moans in response, her eyes fluttering shut as her cheeks hollow. You pull back and slide into Yujin again without warning, and she groans around you, sucking you deep immediately, hands on your thighs for balance, throat flexing as you push deeper. Then Rei is back—she kisses and licks your shaft while Yujin’s mouth works your head, dragging her tongue up your length, kissing your balls, moaning like she’s addicted to your taste.

Each girl begs in her own way. Yujin pulls off just long enough to whisper, “Give it to us, babe. Cover our faces. I want to feel you dripping down my chin.” Then her mouth is back on you.

Rei strokes your shaft when she can, kissing the base, whispering, “Cum for me, daddy. Paint me. I want to wear it.” Her mouth finds your tip again, sloppy and desperate, sucking with the kind of pressure that makes your spine curve.

You can’t hold it anymore.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you growl, pulling out of Rei’s mouth with a wet sound. She gasps for air, mouth still open, tongue hanging, eyes wide.

You grip your cock, jerking it fast, tight strokes from base to tip as both girls hold their mouths open, faces tilted up, tongues out, waiting. Their eyes are locked on your hand, then on the head of your cock, and they’re moaning in sync—Yujin panting, Rei whispering “please, please, please—”

And then you explode.

Your cock pulses violently in your fist and thick ropes of cum launch from the tip, hot and heavy, splattering across their faces in long white streaks. Rei flinches as the first shot hits her cheek, then moans when the next hits her lips, dripping down her chin. Yujin gets a thick stream across her nose and mouth, a few drops painting her cheek and lashes. They both gasp, letting it hit them, worship them, mark them.

You keep stroking through it, more spurting out, your thighs trembling as you finally empty yourself, painting them both in messy, dripping ropes. It drips from Rei’s chin onto her breasts, rolls down Yujin’s cheek and pools at her collarbone.

The silence that follows is a different kind of intimate—no rush, no frenzy—just breathless stillness and bodies pressed close. You watch them breathe, watch their chests rise and fall in sync, the flush slowly fading from their cheeks as the afterglow settles in.

Yujin moves first.

With a slow, almost tender touch, she reaches for Rei, brushing her thumb across the corner of her mouth where a thick drop of your release clings. She scoops it gently and brings it to her lips, sucking it clean, eyes locked on Rei’s. “Messy girl,” she murmurs with a faint smirk, but there’s affection underneath it.

Rei doesn’t look away. She shifts forward, mirroring the gesture, her fingers curling under Yujin’s jaw as she leans in and slowly licks a thick smear of cum off Yujin’s cheek. It’s unhurried, like she’s savoring it, letting her tongue drag deliberately slow before pulling back with a faint moan. “You taste like him,” she whispers, almost in awe, then grins. “Kinda addictive.”

You slide down beside them, your body still pulsing faintly with the remnants of your climax, and lean back against the headboard. They press in on either side, warm and soft, naked and smeared with your cum. The room smells like sweat and sex and skin. You wrap an arm around each of them, fingers threading through theirs, grounding yourself in this closeness.

Yujin tilts her head against your shoulder, her voice lower now, that teasing edge replaced with something quieter. “So?” she asks, eyes half-lidded as she turns to look at you. “Now that you’re not fucking the soul out of one of us… what did you think? Be honest.”

You smile. You can’t help it—it stretches wide across your face, a lazy, completely satisfied grin. “It was amazing,” you say. “Really. I mean it.” You turn toward Yujin, squeeze her hand gently. “Thank you. For planning this. For bringing her. For knowing exactly what I needed when I didn’t even ask.”

Yujin blushes a little, like she wasn’t expecting you to get soft, but she leans in and kisses your shoulder. “You earned it,” she murmurs. “Two months waiting? You deserved more than just me on your lap for a week.”

Then you look to Rei. Her eyes are shining, lips parted like she’s trying to figure out what to say, what she’s supposed to feel right now. You reach over and take her hand, intertwining your fingers.

“And thank you,” you say, quieter now, more deliberate. “For trusting us. For being here, like this. You didn’t have to say yes. But you did.”

Rei’s eyes flicker, then she nods slowly. “I was nervous,” she admits. “At first. But… it feels right. Being here with you both. Like I’m not just watching, I’m part of something.”

“You are,” Yujin says immediately, reaching over to run a finger down her arm. “You are part of it. And you’re not getting rid of us now, so…”

You laugh, and the sound cuts through the lingering haze, lifting the tension just enough. You squeeze both their hands, looking between them. “This week’s going to be unforgettable.”

Rei smiles, glowing now, more open than you’ve ever seen her. “So what do we do now?” she asks, almost shyly.

Yujin stretches, yawning a little, her body arching beautifully as she slides off the bed. “We shower,” she says. “We’re sticky, we smell like sex, and the bed looks like someone got waterboarded with cum.”

Rei giggles, burying her face in your neck for a moment before pulling back. “Gross. True. But gross.”

Yujin turns toward the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder. “Come on. We clean up, then we crawl back into that bed and cuddle properly. I want to fall asleep between my two favorite people.”

Rei rises to her knees, stretching out her back with a soft moan. “And maybe we do it all again later.”

Yujin smirks. “Oh, baby. That’s a guarantee.”

And just like that, the three of you slip off the bed, bare skin brushing, fingers still tangled, limbs overlapping as you stumble toward the bathroom. Together.

—

The house transforms. After the first night as a chaotic threesome—the tangled limbs, the cum-soaked sheets, the three of you curled into one another like some beautiful, breathless tangle of heat and trust—something shifts. It’s not a fling anymore, not just a wild vacation. It becomes a rhythm. A dynamic. An unspoken contract that every glance, every obedient gesture, every parted mouth affirms.

The mornings start slow, but never soft. Rei’s the first to rise most days, slipping from the bed on quiet feet only to crawl back between your thighs, warm mouth sealing over your cock before you’ve even opened your eyes. She worships you in silence, gentle kisses and long, wet licks, until you’re hard in her throat and groaning into the pillows. Some mornings, you pull her up by her hair and fuck her mouth while Yujin wakes to the sounds of her little toy gagging on your cock. Other mornings, Yujin pulls Rei into her lap, rubbing slow circles on her clit while you slide inside her from behind, fucking her while she’s still half-asleep, her head buried in Yujin’s chest, moaning softly.

The rules become natural. No one speaks them aloud, but they’re etched in the way Rei drops her eyes when you approach, the way Yujin spreads her legs for you with a smirk that dares you to make her beg. You tell them what to do, when to open, when to kneel, when to cum (and when not to). And they obey. Not because they have to, but because they want to.

You fuck them everywhere.

The kitchen island becomes a favorite: cold marble on their bellies, their knees hooked over the edge, their cheeks flush with exertion as you alternate between them, cock slick with both their juices, slapping against their asses before slamming back inside. Yujin’s louder there, moaning openly as she gets filled, one hand clutching Rei’s hair as she holds her in place beside her, their lips brushing as they pant through it together. Rei’s frame bounces with every thrust, whimpering when you grab her hips and whisper how tight her little cunt is, how easy it is to ruin her.

The living room couch isn’t spared. One afternoon, fire roaring, snow falling lazily outside the wide glass windows. Rei on her knees, mouth wide, tears dripping off her chin as you fuck her throat, one hand buried in her hair, the other holding Yujin’s leg up as you finger her slow, deep, denying her the orgasm she’s clawing toward.

“You don’t cum until I say,” you murmured, lips brushing her ear. She sobbed in frustration, her slick soaking your hand, thighs trembling, but she nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

You used your belt that night. Their wrists bound, their asses striped with marks. Yujin counted out every hit with a moan, each number slurred between her gasps. Rei sobbed and whimpered but never begged you to stop—she just pushed her hips higher, her soaked thighs glistening as the red marks bloomed bright across her pale skin.

And they loved it.

“Thank you,” Rei whispered after, her eyes wet but not from pain. “Thank you for putting me in my place.”

You kissed her then. You always did after.

The hot spring was used more at night, when the steam clung thick to the air and the cold wind made every movement outside the water a delicious shock. One night, you made Rei cum three times in a row, her pussy so swollen and sensitive she begged you to stop, even as her hips chased your fingers. You held her down, whispering praise and filth into her ear, while Yujin sat beside you, masturbating lazily, watching her lovely friend fall apart with a smirk on her lips.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” you murmured. “But this pussy’s still fucking greedy, isn’t it?”

Rei only nodded, eyes rolling back as another orgasm tore through her.

Other nights, you took Yujin to the edge and held her there—fingers deep inside her, tongue dragging slow circles over her clit, stopping just as her thighs locked around your head. She cursed you, clawed at your hair, begged and pleaded.

“You’ll cum when I say,” you reminded her, wiping her slick off your lips and making her taste it on your tongue.

The hot spring became your throne. Yujin on your lap, straddling you, bouncing on your cock slowly while Rei knelt on the edge, watching, touching herself, waiting her turn. You pulled Rei in after, making her ride your face while Yujin kissed your neck, her breasts pressed to your chest, still grinding down onto your lap, still greedy for more.

But it wasn’t just the sex.

There were quiet moments too. Evenings where you cooked together, Rei sitting on the counter, legs swinging, still wearing your hoodie and nothing else. Yujin behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, her cheek on your back, humming while the pasta boiled. Long hikes once the snow melted, bundled in coats and scarves, holding hands, stealing kisses behind trees. You stopped to take photos of them—Rei leaning into Yujin, Yujin’s head tilted, a grin tugging at her lips.

And always, at night, you ended up back in the same bed. Sometimes naked and aching. Sometimes just wrapped around each other, warm under the covers, their breathing soft and even as they slept against your chest. Rei tucked against your side, Yujin draped over your stomach, your arms around both of them. Safe. Close.

One night, as the fire crackled low and the sky outside darkened to a violet hush, Rei whispered, “I don’t want this to end.”

Yujin didn’t say anything, just reached for your hand under the blanket and held it tight.

Yeah. Neither did you.

—

The snow melts in pieces.

At first, it’s subtle; just a softening at the edges of the deck where the heat of the hot spring spills over. Then the air starts to change. Less bite, more breath. The icicles drip, slow and steady, and patches of green appear between the stone steps leading from the house to the trees. What once was a white-blanketed silence becomes a landscape of new possibilities: thawed trails, streams trickling with cold meltwater, sunlight dappling through the trees as if the forest was waking up with you.

You take them outside often, now that the world’s no longer buried in frost. The hikes stretch longer. Mornings start with Rei bouncing against your chest as you fuck her up against the side of a pine, her hoodie bunched up under her arms, her bare ass slapping against your thighs while Yujin watches with her hands in her panties, panting, whispering encouragement.

Afternoons are for sunlit fucking in the grass, knees pressing into soft earth, their mouths full of your cock while the trees sway above. You remember one particular moment: Rei straddling your lap in a clearing, her cunt dripping onto your cock before you even sank in. She rode you like she was trying to leave marks on your pelvis, while Yujin kissed her neck from behind, whispering “Good girl. That’s it. Take daddy’s cock like you need it.”

And she did. Every damn time.

The deck becomes another playground. With the snow receded, it’s all open space now—warm planks under your feet, bodies glistening in the sunlight, the girls naked and on their knees in the late afternoon glow. You use them however you want. Rei lies across your lap, ass red from your belt, moaning into Yujin’s pussy while you fuck her mouth. You deny Yujin again that night, teasing her over the edge four times in a row until she’s crying from frustration, her body trembling, begging, telling you she’ll do anything

And you still make her wait until the next morning.

They thrive in their roles. Not just the sex, but the trust in it. The clarity. The pure, unshakable knowing that they are yours, and that you take care of what’s yours. You fuck them with dominance, punish them with intention, reward them with care. You spoil them when it’s earned, and you’re cruel when it’s needed. Yujin leans into your hand when you pet her hair. Rei practically melts every time you whisper 'good girl'. You tuck them in at night like they’re precious. Because they are.

The house becomes a memory before it even ends. The walls feel like they’re made of more than wood now. Every room has a story. The kitchen tile still bears the faint mark where Rei’s knees pressed while you came on her tongue. The windows fogged over during Yujin’s first denied orgasm. The hot spring bubbled around your waist as both their mouths worked your cock in tandem under the stars.

And then it’s the last day.

You wake before them. Habit, maybe. The bed is warm, the sheets tangled with limbs and the scent of skin. Rei’s cheek is on your chest, Yujin curled along your side, her arm draped across your stomach. You lie there, just watching the ceiling, your hand stroking Rei’s back in lazy circles, feeling the weight of time pressing in from the edges. There’s no more food in the fridge. The towels are already packed. The silence is heavy.

Eventually, you shift, brushing hair from their faces, and they both wake slowly—blinking, stretching, sighing into your skin.

Yujin kisses your jaw. “Is it really the last day?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “We should start packing.”

No one moves for a long time.

When you finally do, it’s slow, unhurried. Rei sits on the edge of the bed in your shirt, staring out at the mountain view one last time. Yujin folds clothes with robotic precision. You zip up the suitcase and pause before closing it, staring at the belt coiled neatly inside.

The hike back down the trail feels different. The thrill of arrival is replaced by a quiet reluctance, the damp earth breathing a soft scent of pine and thawing soil where crisp snow crunched just days ago. Rei walks between you and Yujin, her hand tucked firmly in yours, Yujin’s on your other side, occasionally bumping her shoulder against yours. The silence isn't awkward, just... full. Heavy with memories made, unspoken emotions, and the lingering heat of that last night, that last morning fuck that left you all tangled and blissed out until the absolute last second.

Loading the car in the small clearing feels anticlimactic after the grandeur of the house. You slide into the driver’s seat, the familiar smell of the car—leather and lingering coffee—a stark contrast to the house’s cedarwood and sex musk. Yujin takes shotgun, immediately fiddling with the music, searching for something mellow. Rei curls up in the back, pulling Yujin’s discarded travel jacket over herself like a blanket, tucking her feet up onto the seat.

The drive starts slow, bumping back down the gravel track onto smoother pavement. Mountains recede in the rearview mirror, replaced by rolling hills, then farmland, then the first hints of approaching civilization. Sunlight streams through the windshield, warming your face. Maybe it's the warmth, maybe it's the comfortable silence stretching a little too long, but a thought that's been nagging at the back of your mind surfaces. You glance over at Yujin, then catch Rei’s eye in the mirror.

"So..." you start, trying to sound casual, one hand steady on the wheel. "Week was... okay? For you guys?"

Yujin turns down the music slightly, giving you a sideways look, eyebrow arched. "Okay? Seriously? After that?" She gestures vaguely, encompassing the entire insane, intense week. "What brought this on?"

You shrug, feeling a little awkward now you've voiced it. "I dunno. Just thinking back." You grip the wheel a bit tighter. "Was I... too much? Sometimes?" You glance in the mirror again, meeting Rei’s wide eyes. "Like, uh... the belt that night? Or keeping you waiting, Yujin? Making Rei ride me till she basically passed out?" A flush creeps up your neck. "Maybe I got carried away. Just wanted to make sure... you know. It was good. Not just... rough."

Yujin bursts out laughing. She twists in her seat, elbow resting on the center console, leaning towards you. "Babe," she says. "Did you miss the part where we basically signed up for exactly that? Where Rei practically glowed when I told her she was the 'reward'?" She shakes her head, still chuckling. "Overdo it? You gave us exactly what we didn't even know how badly we needed. Don't go getting all insecure on us now."

From the back seat, Rei leans forward quickly, sliding between the front seats, her expression earnest. "No! He's right, Unnie, don't laugh!" she insists, though a small smile plays on her lips. She looks directly at you, her gaze surprisingly steady now. "It wasn't too much. Not at all." Her cheeks color slightly, a familiar pretty pink. "Honestly? I... I loved it."

She takes a breath, seemingly gathering her thoughts. "It was... intense, yeah. Sometimes it hurt, like the belt. And sometimes..." she trails off, glancing away for a second before meeting your eyes again, "...sometimes when you were fucking my throat, I thought I might actually pass out. But..." Her tone drops slightly, becoming more intimate. "It wasn't just rough. Not ever. Even when you were being... demanding... or cruel..." She searches for the right words. "I never felt scared. Or unsafe. I felt... seen."

She gestures vaguely towards herself. "Like, you saw the part of me that wanted that. The part that liked being told what to do, liked being pushed, liked... feeling like a toy, maybe?" Her blush deepens, but she doesn't look away. "But you always took care of us afterwards. The kisses, the cuddles, the way you'd just hold us..." She shrugs, a small, vulnerable movement. "It made the hard parts... worth it. More than worth it. It made me feel... cherished, even while you were leaving marks on my ass." A tiny, self-conscious laugh escapes her. "Does that sound crazy?"

"No," you say immediately, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder where she's leaning between the seats. "Not crazy at all. Makes perfect sense."

Yujin nods emphatically beside you, her expression softening as she looks at Rei. "She's right. You nailed the balance, baby." She reaches over, taking your free hand from the wheel, intertwining her fingers with yours on the center console. "You knew exactly when to push, when to praise, when to punish, and when to just... hold us. That's not easy. That's... rare." She brings your joined hands up, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "And honestly? Bringing Rei?" She grins, glancing back at the her. "Best fucking idea I ever had. Watching you two together... the way she looked at you, the way you handled her... pure magic." She winks. "Definitely got me off more than once just watching."

Rei playfully swats Yujin's arm, though her eyes are shining. She stays leaning between the seats, after a moment of comfortable silence, punctuated only by the hum of the tires, Rei speaks again, hesitant this time

"So... um... do you think..." She clears her throat, looking from you to Yujin and back again. "Could we... maybe... do this again sometime? Like, another trip?"

Yujin answers instantly, nodding enthusiastically. "Oh, hell yes. In a heartbeat." She squeezes your hand tighter. "Same house, if we can get it. Or maybe a different but equally isolated place, who knows? Definitely same rules... maybe even some new rules?" She raises a suggestive eyebrow. "Definitely same people. And next time? We stay longer. A week wasn't nearly enough."

You turn your head slightly, catching Rei’s hopeful gaze.

"You'd really want to come again, Rei?" you ask softly. "Seriously? After everything? The throatfucking? The denials? Making you lick Yujin clean?"

Rei doesn't even blush this time. A slow, wicked smirk spreads across her face, transforming her expression from sweet ingenue to knowing participant. It’s ridiculously hot.

"Especially after everything you put me through," she replies, her tone steady. "Try and stop me."

Yujin laughs, delighted. "See? Told you she was hooked." She leans back in her seat, already brainstorming. "Okay, so next time... maybe we explore denial a bit more? For both of us?" She glances at you slyly. "See how long you can make us wait? How much we'll beg?"

Rei nods eagerly. "Ooh, yes! And maybe... maybe some outfits? Like, actual maid outfits? Or collars?" Her eyes sparkle with ideas. "And maybe... could you tie me up? Properly? Like, spread-eagled on the bed?"

"Baby steps, princess," Yujin chuckles. "But I like where your head's at. Collars are definitely happening. Maybe leashes?"

"Okay, okay," you interrupt, laughing, though the ideas are definitely sparking something low in your gut. "Let's get back to the city first before we plan the next round of debauchery." You steer the conversation slightly. "But yeah. Another trip sounds... essential."

They start chattering excitedly, bouncing ideas off each other: different locations, maybe a beach house next time, incorporating public play dares, exploring different dynamics, maybe Yujin dominating Rei more explicitly under your direction. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter, suggestive touches, and shared glances in the rearview mirror that hold promises of filthier, more twisted adventures to come. The melancholy of leaving fades… Now there’s the certainty that this incredible, intense connection you've forged isn't ending here.

It's just taking a breath before diving even deeper.

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