#their outfits mixed so adorably | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vibelladonna · 4 months ago

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✑ 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒, 𝓈𝑜𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Who doesn’t love a good bunny-suit fanfic? This little piece was inspired by the incredible artwork of @alienfreak124. I’m always in awe of her creations—her OC is so cool!

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

This also reminds me the legally blonde movie when Elle wore her bunny, sitting at a Halloween party.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

You’re in your room, standing in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of a plain black dress.

It’s simple, safe, and exactly the kind of outfit you’d usually wear to a small party. You tilt your head, trying to decide if “simple” is too boring. The party isn’t exactly a big deal—just a casual gathering—but there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind:

Crowe’s going to be there.

Before you can overthink it, there’s a sudden knock at your door. “Hey! Open up!” Brittney’s voice is unmistakable—high-energy and impossible to ignore. You sigh, already knowing she’s about to upend whatever plans you’ve made for the evening.

When you open the door, Brittney bursts in like a hurricane, her arms overflowing with what looks like… fur? No, it’s worse. It’s a bunny costume—a black bodysuit with matching ears, thigh high socks, and heels so high they look like a twisted form of punishment.

“Oh no,” you say immediately, holding up your hands in protest. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on!” Brittney waves the outfit in front of you like it’s the Holy Grail. “It’s perfect! It’s fun, it’s flirty, and you’ll steal the spotlight! Imagine the look on everyone’s faces when you walk in wearing this. Especially Jericho.”

Your stomach flips at the mention of his name, but you shake your head. “There’s no way I’m wearing that. I’ll look ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?” Brittney scoffs, planting her hands on her hips. “Please. You’ll look hot. Besides, when was the last time you did something bold? Live a little!” She leans in, grinning mischievously. “And, you know, like I said he might notice.”

You roll your eyes, before releasing a sigh, “Britt, I’m not trying to ‘steal the spotlight.’ I just want to blend in.”

“Blend in?” She gasps like you’ve just insulted her personally. “Blending in is for cowards. And you’re not a coward, are you?”

“...You’re guilt-tripping me.”

“Is it working?”

Unfortunately, yes. You stare at the bunny suit like it’s a wild animal that might bite you, but part of you can’t help wondering: What if Brittney’s right? What if Crowe actually notices?

“Fine,” you say, at last, snatching the costume from her hands. “But different heels and if I look stupid, I’m blaming you.”

Brittney claps her hands in triumph. “You’ll look amazing, trust me! Now, hurry up and get dressed—I need to see the final look.”

You sigh and shut the door, holding up the bunny suit with a mix of dread and curiosity.

This is either the best idea or the worst mistake.

The moment you step into the party, a hush falls over the room—or at least it feels like it. The warm glow of string lights strung across the ceiling doesn’t do much to soothe the nerves twisting in your stomach.

You keep your head down, gripping a drink you barely remember picking up, and try to focus on anything other than the fact that you’re dressed like a bunny in a room full of people dressed... normally.

Brittney, of course, is loving every second of it. She’s practically glowing as she flits around the room, dropping comments like, “Isn’t she adorable?” and “Doesn’t she look amazing?” to anyone within earshot. You glare at her from across the room, but she just winks and mouths, “You’re welcome.”

You hover near the edge of the crowd, trying to blend into the background. It’s ironic, considering the ridiculous outfit, but you figure if you keep still enough, maybe no one will notice.

That plan works for about five minutes—until you catch a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye.

Crowe.

He’s leaning against the wall near the bookshelf, casually sipping from a glass, his posture as effortlessly relaxed as ever. Even in the soft glow of the party lights, he’s sharp, dressed in his usual clean, put-together style that somehow manages to look both formal and casual at the same time.

He always looks like he belongs on a magazine cover—button-up sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he listens to someone talk.

You freeze, torn between retreating to the nearest shadowy corner and pretending you haven’t seen him, or... well, doing something else. But then, as if sensing your eyes on him, Crowe looks up—and the moment his gaze lands on you, it’s like the rest of the party fades into the background.

You brace yourself, half-expecting him to laugh or make some snide remark. Instead, his eyebrows lift slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into what might just be the faintest hint of a smirk. He takes another sip of his drink, sets the glass down, and begins making his way toward you.

Oh no.

Before you can figure out an escape route, he’s standing in front of you, tall and composed, with that cool, unreadable expression that makes your heart do ridiculous things.

His expression is calm and unreadable, but there’s a sharp glint in his eyes that immediately sets you on edge. The drink in your hand suddenly feels useless as you clutch it tightly, wishing you had anything to focus on besides the way Crowe’s gaze is very obviously trailing over your bunny suit. Slowly.

“Nice to see you decided to... dress up,” he says, his tone dripping with amusement as he comes to a stop in front of you. His eyes flicker from your bunny ears to the tights and back to your face, where your mortified expression only seems to fuel his teasing.

“This wasn’t my idea,” you say quickly, feeling the need to defend yourself. “Britt made me wear it. She said it’ll steal the spotlight or whatever…”

Crowe raises a brow, “Britney suggested this..?” then soft smile appears once again as he leans just slightly closer. “Oh, I believe you. But she didn’t make you come to me wearing it, did she?”

You sputter, your face heating up. “I didn’t come to you! You walked over here!”

“Did I?” he asks innocently, his smirk widening into something outright devilish. “Must’ve been the bunny ears. Hard to miss.”

You glare at him, your mind racing for some kind of witty comeback, but it’s hard to think when his gaze keeps darting to your legs, the curve of your waist, and then back to your face, like he’s deliberately making a show of it.

“Well,” he says after a beat, his tone maddeningly casual. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Your brain short-circuits. He did not just say that.

“Excuse me?”

“About the spotlight,” he clarifies, his smirk softening into something almost... fond. “You’ve certainly got everyone’s attention.”

You rolled your eyes, “I look ridiculous,” crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head away from his gaze.

It wasn’t long before you felt his finger under your chin to look at him once more, his deep blue eyes filled with warmth, “I wouldn’t say that now,” he counters smoothly. His voice drops a little lower, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Not that I’m complaining, of course. But I’m curious—how many people have tried their luck with you tonight?”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

You can’t decide whether to tell the truth to him or strangle him.

“Come on,” he says, his smirk turning positively wicked. “In that outfit? Like you said, half the room is staring. Though...” He leans in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I doubt anyone else is appreciating it quite as much as I am.”

Your breath hitches, and you’re sure your face is about to burst into flames. “Crowe, you can’t just—”

“Say the truth?” he interrupts smoothly, stepping just close enough that you can catch the faint scent of his blueberry cologne. “Oh, I can. And I will.”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, Crowe’s gaze shifts, scanning the room. The teasing glint in his deep blue eyes is replaced with something sharper, almost protective, as he takes in the prying eyes of the other partygoers.

“It’s way too many people here,” Crowe mutters, his voice low enough that it feels like the words are meant only for him. Then he glances back at you, his eyes softening in a way that makes your breath hitch.

“Let’s leave.” He mumbled.

“What?”

“I said, let’s leave.” His hand brushes lightly against your elbow, the fleeting touch sending a spark up your arm. His gaze lingers on you, unreadable but heavy with something unspoken. “Unless you’d prefer to stay here and let everyone keep gawking at you like you’re... on display.”

Your eyes dart around the room, catching a few glimpses of the subtle but unmistakable stares in your direction. The air feels suffocating now, and the idea of staying in this crowded space seems unbearable. Still, you hesitate, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his presence.

“Fine,” you say at last, forcing an air of nonchalance even as your pulse quickens. “But if you’re planning to tease me, I’m leaving the second you start.”

Crowe laughs—a deep, smooth sound that does nothing to steady your nerves. “Don’t worry,” he says, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smirk as he places a hand lightly on the small of your back to guide you toward the door.

“I’ll behave.” Yeah… You’re not entirely convinced.

Before you can second-guess your decision, the two of you are stepping into the cool night air. The sharp contrast to the party’s stuffy warmth sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not just the chill that has you trembling.

Crowe’s steps are deliberate, his presence magnetic as he walks you to his car. He unlocks the passenger door with a smooth motion, holding it open for you before rounding the car to slide into the driver’s seat.

The quiet thud of the door closing feels heavier in the silence, the hum of the engine breaking the tension only slightly.

“Brittney’s going to wonder where I went,” you say softly, partly to yourself, as Crowe pulls out of the driveway.

“I’ll text her later,” he replies, his tone calm but firm. “She’ll survive.”

The car is hardly lit, the glow of passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his very much prince features. You can feel his gaze toward you every so often, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle.

He doesn’t speak for a while, but the silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s charged—like the air before a storm. You’re hyper-aware of every detail: the way his hands grip the steering wheel, the faint scent of his blueberry cologne filling the small space, the way his jaw tightens whenever you catch him sneaking glances.

“You shouldn’t let her talk you into things like that,” he says suddenly, his voice lower now, almost rough.

“Like what?” you ask, even though you know exactly what he means.

He glances at you briefly, his lips pressing into a thin line before his expression softens. “Like wearing something that makes every guy in the room look at you like they’ve forgotten how to think.”

The words are sharper than you expect, tinged with an edge of possessiveness that makes your breath catch.

“I thought you didn’t mind people staring,” you counter, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I don’t,” he says, his fingers tightening on the wheel.

“Unless it’s you wearing such a bunny suit.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and electrifying. You look over at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no teasing smirk now, no easy charm—just raw, unguarded honesty in his gaze as he pulls the car to a stop at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

He turns to face you fully, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something unmistakable.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, the words rough with restraint.

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. The heat in his gaze is overwhelming, and you feel pinned in place by the sheer intensity of it.

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance,” he continues, his tone rough and uneven now, “but seeing you tonight, dressed like that, letting everyone else see you like that…” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It drove me crazy.”

The air in the car feels thick, charged with an unspoken tension that’s almost suffocating. Your pulse pounds in your ears, your breaths shallow as you sit still, unsure of what to say—or if there’s even anything you should say.

The silence stretches out, heavy and electric, until Crowe shifts closer to you, his movements deliberate yet almost hesitant.

His hand rises, and for a moment, you think he might stop midway. But then his fingers gently brush against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is light, almost feather-soft, yet it lingers—his fingertips trailing against your skin just long enough to leave a burning imprint.

“Please tell me to stop…” he murmurs, his voice deep and velvety, the faintest edge of uncertainty in his tone. “…before I do something I’ll regret.”

A shiver races up your spine at the feel of his touch, and the heat of his proximity makes it impossible to think straight. Your breath hitches, and you swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You manage to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and searching, as though he’s looking for any sign of hesitation.

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” you whisper, your voice trembling but carrying a weight of undeniable desire.

His breath catches, his chest rising sharply as though you’ve just knocked the air out of him. His eyes widen, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his usually composed face. His lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words came out.

Instead, he tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to convince himself he heard you correctly.

You don’t reply right away—words feel clumsy in the intensity of this moment. Crowe’s gaze still lingers on you, steady and deliberate, traveling down the length of your figure and then back up again.

His deep blue eyes seem darker in the dim light, their usual warmth replaced by something unreadable, something that makes your pulse race. His soft smile was still there, faint but unshakable, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your breath catches, and for a second, all you can think is how badly you don’t want this moment to end. Then, before your mind has time to catch up, your body moves on instinct. Slowly, deliberately, you move your body forward—out of the passenger seat closing the distance between you and him.

His head tilts slightly as he watches you, his soft smile faltering, replaced by a soft gasp for just a heartbeat as you climb onto his lap.

Your knees press into the seat on either side of him, the soft material of your tights brushing against his thighs as you warp your arms around his neck looking at him.

For a brief moment, neither of you speaks. The air feels heavy, charged with something neither of you can name. His reaction is filled with disbelief.

He inhales quickly, his chest rising against yours, and his hands lift instinctively to your hips. His grip is firm yet hesitant, his fingers flexing slightly on the tight spandex of your bunny suitas though he’s testing the reality of the situation.

You’re glad you caught him like this—off-guard, unguarded. It’s rare to see him anything but happily composed, but now? Now, his usual teasing and confidence feels shaken, his calm veneer cracking just enough to let you peek underneath.

“Don’t regret this…” you whisper, your voice low and thick with emotion. “Please don’t stop, Jericho.”

The tension in his shoulders eases, but only slightly. His body remains taut beneath yours, every muscle coiled like a spring. His hands tighten against your hips as if anchoring himself—or maybe anchoring you. He leans forward, and the closeness is dizzying.

His breath fans against your neck, warm and teasing, and goosebumps rise across your skin in response. His hands shift from your hips, sliding upward in slow, deliberate movements that leave you breathless.

His thumbs trace over your waist, the faintest pressure sparking heat in their wake. His fingers move higher, brushing against your sides, and you can’t stop the way your body responds, arching slightly into his touch.

Soon his lips hover near your ear, his voice low and husky, dripping with intent as he murmurs,

“I won’t.”

May got a little carried away here…

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You don’t know how it happened.

So okay, you do know how it happened—you were dumb enough to bet against Hyugo. The guy might be obnoxious, loud, and silly as hell, but unfortunately, he’s also good at literally everything.

Somehow, that fact slipped your mind when you let him talk you into betting on the last round of a stupid game at a party.

It was one of those chaotic, anything-goes types of games, the kind where people are shouting over each other, rules barely make sense, and luck has just as much sway as skill. You don’t even remember what it was called—something involving a blindfold, ping pong balls, and a lot of yelling. I’m kidding here…

All you know is that Hyugo had that stupid grin on his face, the one he always wears when he knows he’s about to win.

“Come on,” he’d said, his voice dripping with smugness as he leaned against the table. “You scared or something? What’s the worst that could happen?”

And like an idiot, you fell for it. “I’m not scared,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re on.”

Big mistake.

Because five minutes later, you were standing there in stunned silence, staring at Hyugo’s triumphant face as he held up his winning ping pong ball like it was an Olympic gold medal.

“Wow, that was almost too easy!” he said, laughing as he clapped you on the shoulder. “You really thought you could beat me?.”

You scowled, already regretting your life choices. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do you want?”

His grin widened, and you instantly knew you were doomed. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his voice practically oozing with fake innocence. “It’s nothing crazy. Just a little outfit change for, let’s say... an hour?”

Your stomach dropped. “What kind of outfit change? I have a movie night at Sol’s place later,”

And now here you are, standing in Sol’s dimly lit studio apartment, wearing a bunny suit that makes you feel about three sizes too exposed and questioning every decision you’ve ever made.

How the tf did Hyugo knew your size anyway?

The small space smells like popcorn and energy drinks, and there’s a paused horror movie on the screen, but all of that pales in comparison to the look on Sol’s face.

He hasn’t stopped staring since you walked in.

The guy is sitting on his beat-up couch, one leg tucked under him, the TV remote hanging limp in his hand. His mouth is slightly open, and his face?

Bright red.

Like, glowing tomato-red, borderline matching the devil on the movie poster behind him.

“…What are you doing?” he finally chokes out, his voice cracking just enough to make you raise an eyebrow. He clears his throat and tries again, this time deeper: “I mean, what’s this?” He gestures vaguely at you, but his hand is shaking a little, so it’s not exactly smooth.

You cross your arms, trying to tug the hem of the crotch area down to show less skin, but there’s no saving it—it’s just too short. “Lost a bet to Hyugo from party earlier today,” you mumble, your voice flat, as if that explains everything.

Sol squints at you, the disbelief radiating off him in waves. “Hyugo made you do this?” His tone flips between outraged and incredulous. His eyes dart down to the whole getup— floppy bunny ears, the thigh-high socks, even a little button tie—and then snap back up so fast you think he might’ve given himself a neck cramp. “Ugh… He’s the worst sometimes.”

“Yeah, thanks for the groundbreaking insight,” you deadpan, shooting him a withering glare. “I figured that out the moment Hyugo handed me this thing.”

Sol drags a hand through his perpetually messy hair, clearly grappling with some kind of inner turmoil. “You didn’t have to wear it, though,” he mutters, his usual grumbly tone edged with something oddly defensive. “You could’ve just… I dunno, said no.”

You blink at him, unimpressed. “Oh, sure. And let Hyugo post that video of me tripping like an idiot in front of the entire campus? An excellent alternative, Sol. Really genius stuff.”

He makes a weird noise in his throat, half a groan, half something else, and he mutters, “Still better than this…” But his eyes betray him.

Because despite the whole 'ugh, this is dumb' act, Sol keeps looking. Like, really looking. His gaze lingers on your bunny ears, the curve of the bodysuit, and the thigh-high socks that are making you wish the couch would swallow you whole. Every time his eyes travel down, they snap back up so fast you’d think he got whiplash.

“What’s your problem?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, mostly for your sanity. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not—” He cuts himself off, dragging his hand down his face with a groan. “Whatever. I’m not the one dressed like…” His words trail off as he waves vaguely in your direction, his ears reddening again as if even describing the outfit is too much for him.

You sigh and plop down on his old couch because there’s literally nowhere else to go in this shoebox of an apartment. As soon as you do, Sol freezes like you’ve just stepped on a landmine. His whole body stiffens, his hands gripping his knees, and you swear he stops breathing.

“Relax,” you say, kicking off your heels with a sigh. “It’s not like I want to be here in this dumb outfit either.”

“You don’t look unhappy,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it.

Your head snaps toward him, catching the faintest flicker of his eyes darting to your outfit before immediately locking onto the popcorn bowl on the coffee table like it’s his last lifeline. His face is ‘burning’, and it only gets worse when he realizes you caught him looking.

“Excuse me?” you ask, leaning in slightly because you can’t let him off the hook that easily.

“I didn’t—” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat so violently it’s almost painful. “I just meant—uh, never mind.” But his ears are practically glowing, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“Sure, okay,” you say, sighing as you settle deeper into the couch, before you mention, “It’s not like you’ve been staring at me like a creep since I walked in or anything.”

“I wasn’t staring!” he blurts, far too defensively for someone who was. He drags a hand through his hair, the strands sticking up even more as he groans like he’s on the verge of losing it.

“Oh, you weren’t?” you tease, tilting your head. “Are you calling me a liar?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking to your legs for half a second before darting away. His hands curl into fists on his lap, and his breathing sounds... uneven.

Fast.

One second, you’re sitting on the couch, awkwardly avoiding his gaze, and the next, you’re swept up off the cushions. His arms slide under you, one wrapping around your back and the other hooking beneath your knees, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry.

“Sol!” you shriek, your hands instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders. “What are you—put me down!”

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lowers himself back onto the couch, keeping you securely in his hold. Your legs dangle awkwardly over his arm, your heels threatening to slip off, and you’re acutely aware of how close your faces are now—his warm breath brushing against your skin, his sharp eyes fixed on yours.

“Relax,” he mutters, his tone gruff but oddly soft. “You were fidgeting too much. Thought you were about to hurt yourself or something.”

“Hurt what now?!” you snap, glaring at him even as your cheeks flush. “I wasn’t—Sol, that doesn’t even make sense. Let me go.”

“Not yet,” he says simply, his grip tightening slightly as if daring you to try and wriggle free.

You glare at him, but the heat of his gaze makes it hard to keep your composure. His eyes flicker down for a moment—trailing from your flushed face to the curve of your legs draped over his arm. He’s trying to play it cool, but the way his jaw clenches and his ears turn a faint shade of pink gives him away.

“Your legs are cold,” he murmurs after a beat, his voice quieter now.

“I wonder why,” you deadpan, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at the hint of concern in his tone.

His lips twitch a shadow of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “This outfit isn’t practical.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly pick it,” you grumble, squirming slightly in his hold.

“Stop moving,” he mutters, his voice dropping an octave. His hands shift slightly, one sliding along your back and the other brushing against your thigh as he adjusts his grip. The casual intimacy of it makes your face burn hotter.

“Sol...” you warn, your voice shaky.

But instead of answering, he leans back slightly, settling you more comfortably in his lap. The movement makes your head spin—partly from the sudden shift, but mostly because of how close he is now. You’re practically curled up against his chest, his arm still supporting your legs while his other hand rests firmly against your back.

And then he looks at you again.

Really looks at you.

His orange-red eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing, grumbly version of Sol you’re used to is nowhere to be found. There’s something different in his expression now—something serious, almost vulnerable, and it steals the breath from your lungs.

“You should be more careful,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly against your knee. His hands slide from your hips to your legs. “These heels could’ve hurt me,” His thumbs trace slow, deliberate circles along the tops of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine.

Your mouth opens to respond—maybe to defend yourself, maybe to yell at him, you’re not sure—but then his hands shift lower, skimming over the curve of your calves. He grabs one of your feet, his fingers curling around your ankle as he starts tugging off your shoe.

“Sol, I can do that myself—”

“N-No,” he practically begged. His cheeks are pink, his expression strained like he’s trying to keep it together. “Please, just let me.”

You’re too stunned to argue. He’s slow about it, almost hesitant, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin as he removes one shoe, then the other. When he’s done, he lets his hands linger for a moment, his thumbs brushing over your bare ankles.

His eyes flicker back up to yours, and there’s something desperate in his expression now like he’s holding himself back from doing something stupid. “Why do you always have to make this so hard?” he mutters, half to himself.

“I’m making 'it' hard?” you blurt, your voice shaky.

“You showed up like this,” he counters, his gaze sweeping over you again. “Looking like... this.”

He leans closer, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him. His hand slides up, tracing a line from your ankle to your knee, then up your thigh, stopping just shy of where the hem of the bunny suit begins. His knee presses a little closer, and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your brain short-circuits. You don’t even know how to respond to that, especially not when his eyes are locked on yours like he’s waiting for an answer.

“Sol,” you finally manage, your voice barely audible. “You’re being weird.”

“I know,” he mutters, his lips twitching into a crooked, almost self-deprecating smile. “I’m always weird. But you make it worse.”

And with that, he dips his head lower, his breath ghosting over your lips like he’s daring you to stop him.

Please don’t make him stop…

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Geo hadn’t thought much about your text at first.

You were running late—what else was new? He was used to it by now. You’d told him to let himself in with the key under the mat since you were still getting ready, and, well, that’s what he did.

Your apartment was as familiar to him as ever: the faint smell of your scented candles. Geo plopped onto the couch, scrolling through his phone to kill time. After about ten minutes of waiting, he sighed loudly, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

“Why do I let you do this to me?” he muttered, dragging himself to his feet. He made his way down the hall, the hardwood floor creaking faintly under his boots.

The door to your bedroom was cracked open, soft light spilling out into the hallway. He tapped lightly on the frame with his knuckles. “Hey, we’re gonna be late, y’know. What’s taking you so—”

He pushed the door open mid-sentence, stepping inside. And then he stopped.

His brain short-circuited.

There you were, standing in front of your full-length mirror, fiddling with a pair of floppy bunny ears.

A very, very skimpy bunny suit clung to you like a second skin, all shiny black fabric and sheer tights that showed just enough to drive someone insane.

The plunging neckline, the dangerously high cut of the bodysuit, the tiny bowtie collar around your neck—it was absurd. Ridiculous. And yet somehow…

You looked stunning.

Geo froze in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His trademark sarcasm, his quick wit, his effortless aloof expression? Gone. His brain? Absolutely empty.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something—anything—but no words came out. Just absolute redness across his pale face.

You noticed him then, spinning around so fast that your bunny ears flopped dramatically to one side.

“Geo!” you shrieked, your voice an octave higher than usual. “What the hell are you doing? I thought you were out on the couch.”

“What am I doing?” he echoed, his voice cracking slightly as his eyes flicked over you, up and down, up and down, like he couldn’t stop himself. He quickly snapped his gaze upward, focusing on the very uninteresting ceiling. “What the hell are you wearing?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s for a charity event,” you muttered defensively. “Crowe asked me to help raise donations.”

Geo’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides as he tried to keep his gaze anywhere but directly on you. His eyes betrayed him, though, darting back to your legs, your waist, your— “What kind of charity involves… that?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at your outfit like it was some kind of alien artifact.

You groaned, turning back to the mirror to adjust the bunny ears again. “It’s a themed event, okay? College students are more likely to donate if there’s… I don’t know, incentive?”

“Incentive…?” Geo repeated, “And Crowe ask you wear that? Crowe?” His tone was somewhere between disbelief and outrage. “What is wrong with him? Is he insane?”

“It’s not that bad,” you said defensively, though your voice wavered because, yeah, it was kind of bad. “It’s for a good cause!”

Geo crossed his arms, his lips pulling into a tight line. “No. Nope. Not happening. You’re not walking out of here dressed like that. I don’t care if it’s for world peace.”

You threw your hands up. “What are you, my dad? Relax, Geo. It’s fine.”

“Fine?” He frowns, irritated, his eyes accidentally drifting downward before snapping back up to your face. He looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. “You look like—you—ugh, never mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, placing your hands on your hips, can’t you not get any more cuter!? “I look like what?”

“Forget it.” he sighed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Just… just go change or something."

“I can’t!” you said, exasperated. “This is the whole point of the event!”

Geo groaned, dragging a hand down his face in pure exasperation. His usual sharp wit was dulled by whatever internal battle he was clearly losing. “Why do I have to be the one to deal with this? Literally anyone else would’ve been better. Anyone.”

You crossed your arms, giving him an incredulous look. “You’re the only one with a car who wasn’t busy,” you shot back, matter-of-fact as ever.

Geo huffed, throwing his hands up dramatically. “You should’ve just taken the bus, then!”

“And have creepy men ogling me the whole ride? Absolutely not,” you retorted, your tone sharp. “You’re a much better option. Like it or not.”

“Well,” he muttered, clearly flustered as his hand shot to the back of his neck, his eyes darting anywhere but at you, “…I’m regretting it now.”

You sighed, turning back to the mirror and fiddling with the bunny ears again, your patience wearing thin. “Look, if it’s that big of a deal, just wait outside. I’ll be done in a sec—I just need to put on my shoes.”

For a moment, you thought he might actually listen. But then Geo took a step closer, his posture shifting. The embarrassment still lingered in his tense shoulders and flushed face, but there was something else now—something almost… resolute.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, turning you around so fast you nearly stumbled.

“Geo?” you asked, startled by the sudden intensity in his gaze.

He didn’t answer. Instead, without missing a second, he pushed you backward with a firm but careful hand, and your back hit the edge of your bed. You let out a startled gasp, barely managing to catch yourself as you propped up on your elbows.

“Hey! What the hell—”

You froze as Geo knelt in front of you, his hand gripping your ankle firmly but gently. His other hand reached out for your heels, which had been discarded nearby, and he snatched them up with a quick, fluid motion.

“You need to hurry up,” he grumbled, his voice low and laced with irritation as he slid the first heel onto your foot. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your sheer tights as he adjusted the strap. His face, however, was a different story—flushed red and rigid, like he was barely holding himself together. “So just—shut up and let me handle it.”

You blinked, your mouth opening to protest but no words coming out. Geo hadn’t spared you a glance, too focused on fastening the strap with a level of concentration that was almost comical.

“You’re—” you finally managed, but your voice wavered as his hands moved to your other foot.

“And you’re taking forever,” he shot back, not missing a beat. His grip on your ankle tightened slightly as he secured the second heel, his eyes resolutely fixed downward.

Is he actually blushing at this?

Your eyes narrowed, “You seem red there,” you teased, leaning back on your hands and watching him with a growing smirk. “What happened to all your sarcastic remarks, Mr. Smartass?”

“Shut up,” he muttered through clenched teeth, still not looking at you as he finished adjusting the second strap.

His fingers brushed against your ankle again, lingering just a second too long, and you swore you saw his ears turn even redder. Deciding to test your luck, you slowly crossed one leg over the other, making the movement deliberately graceful.

Geo’s aquamarine eyes flicked up instinctively at the shift in movement, and when he realized what he’d done, he snapped his gaze away so fast it was almost whiplash-inducing.

“Stop doing that,” he muttered, his voice lower now.

“Doing what?” you asked, feigning innocence as you tilted your head and batted your lashes at him.

“You know what,” Geo shot back, his jaw tightening as he focused way too hard on the buckle of your heel, his fingers fumbling slightly.

“Aw, is the Geo, the all powerful and scary is embarrassed with me in a bunny suit?” you teased, your voice dripping with playful mockery as you leaned forward slightly, one of your legs crossing just enough to invade his space.

The toe of your heel pressed lightly against his chest, and you tilted your head, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “I didn’t think you’d get so flustered over a little outfit.”

Geo, ever the picture of calm composure, froze mid-motion. His hands, which had been casually adjusting the cuffs of his jacket a moment ago, were now completely still.

For a second, it was like time itself had paused. Slowly—deliberately—his gaze lifted, locking with yours.

Fuck.

His eyes, normally narrowed and calculating, were different now. They seemed darker, more intense, clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t annoyance, nor was it the usual stoic indifference he wore like armor.

Whatever it was, it had you swallowing hard.

The teasing smirk on your face faltered just slightly as curiosity crept in. You tilted your head to the side, your lips parting faintly as you tried to read him, to figure out what was going on behind that icy stare. “Geo?” you prompted softly, your narrowed eyes searching his face.

Still, he didn’t look away. He couldn’t seem to.

It was kinda hard—and kind of thrilling, if you were honest. Normally, a jab like that would earn you a dry, sarcastic retort, something sharp-edged that would put you right back in your place.

But this time? Nothing. Whatever comeback he’d had locked and loaded vanished the second your teasing grin softened into something more uncertain.

The silence stretched, tension thickening between the two of you like a coiled spring. You couldn’t tell if it was your own heartbeat hammering in your chest or his, but the moment felt impossibly fragile.

“Seriously, say something,” you murmured, a hint of nervous laughter creeping into your tone.

You pressed your foot just a little harder against his chest, trying to get any kind of reaction. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

His gaze flicked briefly to your leg—the curve of your calf, the ridiculous heel perched at the end of it—before snapping back to your face.

“You shouldn’t play games you can’t win,”

Your breath caught for half a second. His hand moved, wrapping firmly around your ankle—not harshly, but with enough pressure to make your pulse skip a beat. With one smooth motion, he guided your leg away from his chest.

“You don’t get it,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm, his tone a complete shift from his usual snark.

The intensity in his voice caught you off guard, and your expression faltered. “...Don’t get what?” you asked, your playful tone slipping into something more hesitant.

Geo’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as if he were trying to hold something back. He stood abruptly, the sudden motion making you flinch slightly. His eyes immediately flickered with regret at your reaction, and he took a deep breath, trying to collect himself.

“Shit,” Geo muttered under his breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. His back was turned to you, but the stiffness in his posture betrayed his frustration. He exhaled sharply, shoulders rising and falling as though wrestling with something he couldn’t quite say.

“Geo…” you started softly, the sharp edge in your tone from earlier now replaced with concern.

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice strained and hoarse, like the words were being dragged out of him. “We’re not going to the charity event. You’re staying here. End of discussion.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?” you exclaimed, still perched on the edge of the bed. “You can’t just decide that for me!”

He turned to face you, amber eyes blazing with a mix of irritation and something you couldn’t quite place. “Watch me.”

Before you could react, Geo stalked toward your desk, snatched a hoodie draped over the chair, and practically threw it at your face with surprising precision. His hands lingered just long enough to tug it snugly over your frame, the fabric swallowing the delicate silhouette of your bunny suit.

“You’re not going anywhere in that,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. He stepped back slightly, his gaze flicking over you as though ensuring his makeshift cover-up was secure. “If Crowe wants donations that badly, he can wear the damn bunny suit.”

Your jaw dropped, words caught somewhere between outrage and disbelief. “Geo, bro, you’re being absolutely insane right now”

“Don’t call me bro. And yeah, probably,” he admitted, flashing a grin that was more sharp edges than warmth. “But at least I’m not letting you walk into a room full of idiots who won’t be able to keep their eyes—or their thoughts—off you.”

Heat crept up your cheeks at his bluntness, and you folded your arms tightly across your chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, and the tension between you grew like a palpable thing.

“You’re seriously overreacting,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

“Am I?” Geo shot back, stepping closer. His towering frame cast a shadow over you as his gaze locked onto yours, burning with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. His voice dropped, low and deliberate. “Do you even realize how—” He stopped abruptly, his jaw clenching as if swallowing the words was the only way to keep them from spilling out.

“Realize what?” you pressed, your own voice barely above a whisper now, caught somewhere between defiance and curiosity.

Geo’s eyes darted to the floor, then back to you, before he let out a low, frustrated growl. In one swift movement, he stepped forward, his hands gripping your shoulders as he pushed you gently but firmly down onto the bed.

“Geo, what the hell—”

Your protest was cut short as he followed, his weight settling over you in a way that was far from aggressive but left no room for escape. His arms slipped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his head dropped to your chest.

The world seemed to stop as you felt the warmth of his breath against your collarbone. He didn’t say a word, his face buried against you, his grip almost desperate.

You froze, your hands hovering uncertainly in the air. “Geo?” you murmured, your voice soft and unsure.

“Just… shut up for a second,” he muttered, his voice muffled against you. His tone was softer now, tinged with vulnerability that made your chest ache.

“Let me have this.”

Your hands hesitated before they slowly lowered, one settling against his back, the other threading cautiously through his hair. His body tensed at first but then melted into yours, his hold tightening as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice raw and unguarded. “And not used of handling it.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of his words—and his closeness—stealing the air from the room. Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as you let the moment stretch, the sound of his breathing steadying against you.

“Oh,” you said finally, your voice quieter now.

“You’re not making any damn sense. Like we’re going to be late for the event,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone soft but firm.

“Good,” he muttered into your chest without lifting his head.

“Good?” you echoed, your brows furrowing. “Crowe’s going to kill me if I don’t show up. And you promised to drive me, remember?”

“I don’t care about Crowe or the stupid event right now,” he grumbled, his voice low and slightly muffled. “It’s not important.”

“Not important?” You leaned your head back against the bed in disbelief. “You’re acting like the world’s ending because of a bunny suit, Geo. What’s really going on?”

He finally lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at you filled with intensity that made your breath catch. “You still don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, a mix of irritation and something deeper.

“I don’t want anyone else looking at you the way I am right now.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in and leaving you momentarily speechless. “Geo…” you started, but he didn’t give you a chance to finish.

Instead, his arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips brushed the curve of your neck. You tensed under his touch, your breath hitching as his teeth gently grazed your skin.

“Just give me five minutes,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips pressed softly against the spot he’d just bitten, lingering for a moment before pulling back slightly.

“Five minutes, and then I’ll get up, and we can go. Deal?”

You blinked, trying to process what just happened, your body feeling like it was on fire where his lips had been.

“Geo, that’s not—”

“Five minutes,” he repeated, cutting you off. His tone was quieter this time, almost pleading as his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a vulnerability he rarely let you see.

“Please.”

Oh shit, a please??. Five minutes it is then.

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #solivan brugmansia #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #sol x reader #sol brugmansia #jericho crowe ichabod #tkatb geo #geo oogami #tkatb vn

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meo-eiru · 3 months ago

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Day 6 of Character Trivia Night!

For tonight we have Micah

Micah is an only child with a mother and a father

He grew up in a small town and his parents were upper-middle class in town standards

They were very religious and paid a lot of attention to always appearing proper. They wouldn't wear the same outfits two days in a row and made sure their clothes were always perfectly ironed

His dad was quite strict with him, not allowing him to play outside and crease his clothes, and made sure he attended church regularly

Micah was never really interested in playing with the other kids so he didn't particularly care about the rules

Even as a child he was aware he was prettier and smarter than most kids around, he was also very apathetic towards others. He didn't particularly care about them but enjoyed when they praised and looked up to him so kept the good boy act

His one joy was growing flowers, because unlike humans flowers are not annoying. If he takes good care of a flower it'll grow up and bloom like planned, it won't betray his plans. Its life is on his hands, if he decides to cut it it'll die, and if he decides to stop watering it it'll shrivel

His parents weren't very into the idea of him taking care of their garden but after seeing he wasn't giving up and that he actually made it look prettier they gave in

He was later on sent to the capital to further his education, joining the cathedral and quickly becoming a high priest

Even away from his parents he continued to live following their teachings. He would wear clean and well ironed clothes, he usually preferred loose fitting ones that didn't show much skin

He also started growing his hair to the possible displeasure of his father, he enjoyed taking care of it and keeping it clean. He naturally had very thick strands but his hair was still very soft

He also quite enjoying coffee, especially with some light sweets accompanying it. Thanks you that he ended up being quite good at brewing coffee and baking low sugar cakes

He was popular with men and women alike thanks to his angelic appearance and polite personality, receiving letters of affection not only from people inside the cathedral but those who simply came to visit it

Soon enough he was more well known than the actual bishop amongst the common people

He didn't really care about ranking up more and taking on the bishop role, he actually enjoyed the fact that he was better liked even as someone of lower status which made the actual bishop quite furious

He was eventually sent to work at a church in a nearby town by the bishop who did not enjoy seeing him around, not that Micah cared. The town was small but clean and well taken care of, he could just live quietly while being adored by those around

He was greeted with many cheers upon his arrival to the church, his fame traveling ahead of him

He greeted everyone and introduced himself, not caring to pay too much attention to the stuff they told him

Around his third day at the church, as he was passing by the inner garden he heard the sounds of giggling

Two nuns in training, seemingly enjoying a conversation between themselves

Micah could hear what they were talking about but somehow it all felt like blank noise, not registering. The weather was nice, he could feel a warm breeze flowing through his hair. The sunlight was just right, making his skin warm and fuzzy but not to the point of making him sweat. He could hear the chirps of birds mixing with their giggles. Everything was so nice, so nice and so clear, and Micah was just standing there. He was just standing there and looking at the nun he seemingly had never noticed before. Was the sky always so blue and full of life?

It wasn't too hard finding more about you as you were on good terms with most people around. He quickly learned that you were a faithful child of god, that your family was quite poor and that you wanted to become a nun in hopes of earning money to help your family

The day he first approached you was an exciting day for you. He's THE Micah after all, anyone would be excited. He was so nice and so easy to talk to, before you knew it you were crying about your struggles and pains as he gently hugged you

You really liked him, he would always listened to your problems so patiently and offer you solutions. With him you felt so seen

At first it started small, Micah bought you the dress you've been eyeing for so long. Then it started getting bigger, he would sometimes directly give you money, telling you to go buy whatever you need

He was like an angel, truly a good person. You thought he must be a savior sent by god to make your pains go away

And so you trusted him, how could you not? He was such a good person, and everyone knew just how good he was. And you continued trusting him when he called you to his chambers late at nights, you trusted him when he locked the door behind you, you trusted him when he was being just a bit too close for your liking

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Micah didn't care about how many weeds he had to cut off to make one flower bloom the way he wants it to bloom. At the end of the day it's the flower he wanted, and his flower has the prettiest petals when he holds it in his hands

#micah #yandere priest #yandere priest x reader #yandere #male yandere #tw non con #tw noncon #tw religion #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #oc #my oc #yandere oc #yandere original character #original yandere #original character

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amirasainz · 6 months ago

Note

Hi queen. Can you please write for little alonso one, where she is still pretty young and mostly hanging out with the spanish speaking drivers (please include Franco♥️) and one of the others accidentally uses a english cuss word in front of her and she repeats it. Thank youuuuu.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💚

La Niña del Paddock

The Formula 1 paddock was always alive with energy, the hum of engines, and the chatter of mechanics filling the air. Today, however, it had an extra spark of excitement. Two-year-old Yn Alonso was in attendance, her tiny form dressed in a summer outfit and her hair in two braids.

Clinging to her father’s hand, Yn looked around the bustling paddock with wide eyes. She was shy, clutching tightly to Fernando's leg every time someone tried to say hello. Not that most of them could converse with her—she only spoke Spanish, and her vocabulary was still that of a toddler.

"Papá, quiero un jugo," she murmured, tugging at his hand. ("Papa, I want juice.")

Fernando crouched to her level, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Después, mi amor. Ahora papá tiene que trabajar, ¿vale? Carlos te cuidará por un rato." ("Later, my love. Right now, papá has to work, okay? Carlos will look after you for a while.")

Yn pouted but nodded solemnly, her grip loosening as Carlos approached with a big grin. "¡Hola, princesa! ¿Lista para pasar un buen rato con el mejor babysitter del mundo?" ("Hello, princess! Ready to spend some time with the best babysitter in the world?")

Yn tilted her head, studying Carlos. “¿Eres mejor que Papá?” ("Are you better than Papa?")

Carlos laughed, scooping her up. "Por supuesto que no, pero soy el segundo mejor." ("Of course not, but I’m the second best.")

---

Carlos wasn’t alone in his efforts. Franco and Sergio often joined in, creating a small team of Spanish-speaking drivers who adored Yn. Today, as Carlos carried Yn through the paddock, they encountered Checo, who immediately lit up.

"¡Ahí está mi amiga pequeña! ¿Cómo estás, Yn?" ("There’s my little friend! How are you, Yn?")

"Quiero jugo," Yn replied seriously, causing both men to laugh. ("I want juice.")

“Ya veo que sabes lo que quieres,” Checo teased, ruffling her hair. "Ven, vamos a buscar uno." ("I see you know what you want. Come, let’s go find one.")

As they headed to the hospitality area, they ran into Charles, who, while not fluent in Spanish, had picked up a few phrases. He knelt to Yn’s level. "Hola, Yn. ¿Cómo… cómo estás?"

Yn hid her face in Carlos’s shoulder, making Charles frown.

"She is shy," Carlos explained with a shrug. "But you can try."

Charles smiled softly. "¿Quieres… jugo? ¿O… un helado?" ("Do you want… juice? Or… ice cream?")

At the mention of ice cream, Yn peeked out, nodding eagerly. "Helado."

“That was easy!" Charles laughed, standing up and joining the group as they searched for treats.

---

Other drivers began to notice how much time Yn spent with the Spanish-speaking contingent, sparking a mix of amusement and envy.

"Why does she never come to us?" Lando complained to Max, watching as Yn giggled in Franco’s arms.

"Maybe because she doesn’t understand you," Max replied with a smirk.

"But she’s so cute! Look at her little cheeks!” Lando exclaimed. “I want a turn."

“Good luck with that,” Max muttered, though he was secretly curious too.

---

Eventually, Yn’s circle expanded, and she found herself surrounded by other drivers who, despite the language barrier, adored her. George was attempting to teach her a clapping game, while Lewis showed her pictures of his dog Roscoe. Everything was going smoothly until Max stupped his toe and muttered a curse under his breath.

"Fuck," he said, slapping his thigh.

Yn, ever the sponge, tilted her head. "Fuck."

Silence fell over the group. George gasped, and Lewis froze mid-sentence.

"Max," Lando hissed. "What did you just do?"

“It wasn’t my fault!” Max said, panicking. “She’s too quick!”

"Fuck," Yn repeated, smiling as if she’d learned a new toy.

“Nonononono,” Charles said, rushing over. "Yn, don't say that. Es malo. Muy malo." (" It’s bad. Very bad.")

"¿Por qué?" Yn asked innocently, looking up at him. ("Why?")

Checo appeared just in time, his eyes wide as he realized what was happening. "What happened?"

“She heard Max swear,” George explained, flailing his arms.

Checo groaned. "¡Ay no! If Fernando finds out, we're dead."

---

Despite their frantic efforts to distract her with other words, Yn’s new phrase stuck. When Fernando finally returned from his duties, Yn ran to him, arms outstretched.

"¡Papá!"

"¡Mi niña! ¿Te portaste bien?" Fernando asked, lifting her into his arms. ("My girl! Were you well-behaved?")

Yn beamed at him, her tiny voice ringing out. "Fuck!"

Fernando froze. The drivers around them collectively held their breath, some looking ready to bolt.

Then Fernando threw his head back and laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the paddock. "¡Eres toda una Alonso, mi amor!" ("You’re a true Alonso, my love!")

Checo wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. "We're saved…"

Fernando looked at the guilty group, smirking. "But if it happens again, you all will be to blame."

Yn, unaware of the chaos she had caused, snuggled into her father’s chest, content as ever. And the paddock? They had learned their lesson: don’t teach a toddler new words unless you’re ready to face the consequences.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#little alonso #fernando alonso x alonso!reader #fernando alonso x daughter!reader #fernando alonso x reader #carlos sainz x reader #franco colapinto x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #dad!fernando alonso #alonso!reader

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sknyuz · 28 days ago

Text

prompt — “i’m so undeniably screwed for this woman.”

pairing — woozi x reader

genre — fluffy fluff, opposites attract, tiny bit of woozi’s inner turmoil but in a cute way

warnings — light swearing, mutual pining, woozi being emotionally constipated but adorable about it

word count — 600(?) i literally planned longer but my brain farted

note: nonchalant woozi + sunshine reader <3 thank you for this request hehe.

masterlist

he’s watching you again.

not in a weird way. not in a creepy way. probably.

it’s just—you’re laughing. again. and it’s the kind of laugh that bursts out of you like soda fizz, bright and sparkling, and it fills the whole studio. and he’s just—well...

“hyung,” seungkwan says, walking past with his laptop and a raised brow, “you’re staring again.” he sing-songs, rolling his eyes.

woozi blinks, caught.

“i’m not,” he replies, flatly.

“sure,” seungkwan sings, disappearing down the hall.

woozi sighs and sinks further into his chair. you’re sitting cross-legged on the studio couch, scrolling through your phone, earbuds in and completely oblivious to the absolute chokehold you’ve put him in.

and that’s the problem. you always are.

you’re warm, expressive, a walking serotonin shot. you light up every room you walk into and talk with your hands and cry over dog videos and compliment strangers’ outfits just because. you're the type of person who remembers birthdays, texts people good luck before big meetings, and bakes cookies on random tuesdays "just because you felt like it."

and woozi?

woozi is the guy who pretends not to hear compliments because he doesn’t know how to take them, he expresses love through perfectly mixed vocal tracks and buying your favorite snacks and pretending he’s not checking his phone every two minutes waiting for your reply.

and yet you’re here all the time.

you come by the studio even when he doesn’t ask. you bring coffee and snacks and once a tiny plush keychain because "it looked like you and i couldn't not buy it." you ask about his day like you really want to know. you hug him goodbye even though he never hugs back (not properly, anyway).

and sometimes you sit quietly beside him for hours, just vibing, while he works on music. humming under your breath. asking questions about things he thought no one ever noticed. like the way he softens the instrumental under the bridge to highlight the vocals. or how he layers harmonies to make the chorus sound fuller.

you notice everything—and it’s driving him insane.

because he’s not supposed to feel this soft. not when he barely knows what to do with his feelings half the time, not when you smile at him like you know something he doesn’t, like you’re waiting for him to catch up.

“you okay?” you ask suddenly, pulling out your earbuds and tilting your head at him. he startles slightly, coughing. “yeah.”

“you were spacing out,” you grin. “thinking hard, genius?”

he huffs a laugh, turns back to his screen. “something like that.”

you shuffle over and peer at his monitor, chin on his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he doesn’t move. doesn’t breathe. you’re close enough that he can smell your shampoo. something citrusy. fresh. “is this the new demo?” you whisper, like it’s a secret.

he nods.

“can i hear it?”

“it’s not done yet.”

“i don’t care.” you whisper, leaning in close to his ear.

and he sighs, already knowing that he’d lost to you with just one look. he hits play and pretends his heart isn’t doing backflips while you listen with that furrowed brow and soft smile. you always listen like this—like the song is a person you’re trying to understand.

when it ends, you turn to him, eyes wide. “woozi. that’s so good. it sounds like falling in love.”

he snorts, ducking his head. “that’s not what it’s about.”

“still feels like it,” you shrug.

he glances at you, a little helpless. you’re too close. too real. too much.

“you always say the dumbest stuff,” he mutters, but his voice is weirdly fond. you grin at this like you know you’ve won something. “you love it.”

and that’s the thing, isn’t it?

he does.

god help him, but he does. and his grumpy disposition falters as he rubs his palm into his eyes.

“i’m so undeniably screwed for this woman,” he mutters under his breath, almost too quiet to hear.

oh, but you hear it.

you blink, going still. lips part like you’re about to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you stare at him with an amused look on your face.

his eyes widen slightly, and for the first time in a long time, he feels his composure crack.

“…shit,” he curses, throwing his head back. “did i say that out loud?”

you blink again. then smile, slow and warm and soft enough to melt him right there in the chair.

“yeah,” you say. “you did.”

a beat passes. he opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again.

“…okay.” he pathetically mumbles,

and then you’re laughing. again. that same fizzy, unstoppable laugh, and you bump your shoulder into his and say, “about time.”

he stares at you, and you stare back. then you reach over and take his hand—gently, casually, like you’ve done it a hundred times—and squeeze.

“don’t worry,” you whisper. “seems like we’re both in trouble, then. you make me feel like i got a few screws loose, lee jihoon.”

and woozi, ever the calm, composed, nonchalant musical genius that he is—completely short-circuits.

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faebled-stories · 6 months ago

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A Night Beyond the Stage

Kinkvember Day 25: Deflowering/Mommy

Red Velvet Irene (Bae Joohyun) x Male reader

TW: Age gap, reader is 19

14k words

AN: The timing of this fic aligning with Irene’s solo comeback is such a funny coincidence. I’ve tailored the story to fit with the excitement of her big moment—hope you enjoy it 💖

The crowd is a living sea of excitement, the lights dimming to signal the start of a moment fans have dreamed of for years. The air hums with anticipation, every breath charged with electricity. Brightly colored banners, lovingly adorned with Irene’s name, heartfelt messages, and slogans, ripple like waves in the soft breeze created by thousands of hands waving light sticks in unison. The synchronized glow bathes the venue in hues of soft red and shimmering white, a radiant tribute to her. You instinctively wave your light stick, matching the crowd’s rhythm as though tethered to the shared devotion filling the air.

You’re one of those fans—a devoted 19-year-old boy, standing near the front of the crowd. For years, you’ve admired Irene’s artistry, her poise, and the quiet yet commanding presence that sets her apart. She’s been your bias since the moment you discovered Red Velvet, captivating you with every performance, every glance, every smile. But tonight is different. This is her night. Her solo comeback. The energy is unlike anything you’ve felt before, and the significance of this moment echoes in the rapid thrum of your heart.

The stage glows with a soft light, and the room erupts as Irene steps into view. She’s radiant, a vision so perfect it feels almost otherworldly. Her outfit sparkles under the spotlights—a sleek, fitted ensemble in deep, jewel-like tones that catch the light with every graceful step she takes. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, glossy and flawless, framing her face in a way that feels too perfect to be real. Her smile is soft yet confident, the kind that somehow feels personal, like it’s meant just for you, even in a crowd of thousands.

Clutching a freshly purchased album close to your chest, your fingers tremble as you grip it tightly. The ReVeluv T-shirt you carefully chose this morning feels almost too bright under the glow of the stage lights, but you wear it proudly, a small token of your devotion. Around you, fans scream and cheer, their voices weaving together into a deafening symphony of love and support. Yet, for you, the sound fades into the background as Irene’s first note cuts through the air. Clear, emotive, and powerful, it sends a shiver down your spine, rooting you in place.

Her performance is mesmerizing. Every move she makes is fluid, every note she sings filled with a kind of vulnerability that feels intimate despite the size of the venue. The air vibrates with her presence, her voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The scent of faint perfume and the electric tang of stage smoke mix in the air, creating a sensory backdrop that makes the moment feel surreal. You’re rooted to the spot, utterly captivated, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as the realization hits: you’re witnessing something extraordinary.

When the final note fades and the crowd erupts in a deafening roar, Irene stands still for a moment, soaking in the adoration. Her gaze sweeps across the sea of light sticks and banners, scanning the crowd as if she’s trying to meet every eye. For a brief moment, her eyes seem to land on yours, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s fleeting, and you know it’s probably not meant for you—just a random glance in your direction—but the slight smile that pulls at her lips feels like it’s tied directly to your racing heart. You take what you can get, holding tightly to the illusion of connection in the vastness of the crowd.

As she raises a hand to wave, the gesture is simple but impossibly magnetic, radiating warmth and gratitude. It’s enough to make you feel like you’re the only one she’s looking at, even though you know better. You wave your light stick fervently in response, your heart pounding as though it’s trying to reach her across the distance.

When she finally bows, the crowd’s cheers swell to a fever pitch, the sound thunderous and all-encompassing. She steps back into the shadows of the stage, her figure slowly disappearing as the lights dim. You can barely remember how you managed to stay on your feet, the wave of emotion washing over you threatening to knock you down.

Clutching the album tighter to your chest, you stand frozen for a moment, determined to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. The memory of her voice, her smile, and the undeniable presence she commands stays with you, a bright, glowing ember burning in your chest. You know this moment—this fleeting connection, imagined or not—will stay with you forever, a reminder of the night she shone brighter than ever.

The crowd gradually settles, but the buzz of excitement remains, rippling through the room like an unspoken connection. The event transitions to the fan interaction segment, and you feel the air shift as Irene takes her seat on the stage. Fans file into neat lines, each holding gifts, albums, and handwritten notes, their nervous energy palpable. Your heartbeat quickens as the line in front of you inches forward, each step bringing you closer to the moment you’ve dreamed of.

You grip your album tightly, the edges pressing into your palms, grounding you as your nerves threaten to take over. Around you, there’s a cacophony of sounds—the chatter of fans in line, the occasional burst of laughter, and the soft hum of background music. Yet, all of it seems distant, muffled by the pounding of your heart. You’ve rehearsed what you want to say countless times, but now your mind feels like a blank slate, wiped clean by the overwhelming reality of being so close to her.

As the fans ahead of you step forward, Irene greets each with her characteristic grace, her warm smiles and soft chuckles filling the space like a gentle melody. Watching her interact, you can’t help but notice how genuine she seems—her gaze attentive, her demeanor effortlessly charming. She accepts every letter, every memento, with a delicate touch, her hands brushing against those of the fans who hand them over. Each small moment feels precious, and your chest tightens with the realization that soon, it will be your turn.

When the fan directly in front of you steps aside, the world slows to a crawl. Irene’s eyes lift, locking onto yours, and the breath catches in your throat. The stage lights frame her like a halo, her features soft yet dazzlingly vivid—every detail etched into your memory. Her expression shifts to one of gentle curiosity as you approach, her lips curving into a small, encouraging smile that makes your legs feel like jelly.

You step forward, gripping the album so tightly now that your knuckles are white. Her presence is magnetic, pulling you in with a force you can’t resist. She’s even more breathtaking up close, her skin glowing as if lit from within. The subtle scent of her perfume, fresh and floral, reaches you, blending seamlessly with the charged air around her. Her hair, perfectly styled yet natural, catches the light in soft waves, framing her face in a way that seems impossibly elegant. Everything about her radiates a quiet confidence, a strength wrapped in warmth.

Your lips part, and for a moment, nothing comes out. The pounding in your chest drowns out everything else, your thoughts a tangled mess. Then, somehow, you find your voice, shaky but audible. “Hi… uh… Irene-noona,” you manage, the words tumbling out awkwardly. Your voice cracks slightly, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat, but her reaction erases any embarrassment. Her smile deepens, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that feels impossibly reassuring.

“Hello,” she says softly, her voice smooth and melodic, each syllable grounding and disarming all at once. “Are you having a good time?”

You nod so quickly it’s a miracle your head doesn’t fall off. “Y-yeah! It’s been amazing,” you stammer, clutching the album tighter before awkwardly holding it out for her. “I—I’ve been a fan of yours for… a really long time.”

Her delicate fingers brush against yours as she takes the album, and the gentle contact sends an electric jolt up your arm. You’re sure she notices the way your breath hitches, but if she does, her expression remains serene. “Thank you,” she says, her eyes lifting briefly to meet yours before they focus on the album. Her pen moves fluidly across the glossy surface as she adds her signature. “It means a lot to me that you came.”

You blurt out the first thing that pops into your head, your voice louder than you intended. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Your face flushes immediately, and you scramble to backtrack. “I mean, not just this… I mean, anything you do is worth it. Like, you’re just really… uh, incredible.”

Her lips curl into a small, amused smile, and she tilts her head slightly, as if trying to figure you out. The soft light catches in her eyes, making them sparkle. “You’re sweet,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “Is this your first fan meet?”

You nod vigorously, then clear your throat, trying to compose yourself. “Yes. First time seeing you… like, in person.” Your words come out disjointed, and you wince internally. “I mean, obviously in person. Because otherwise, it’s just… online. Or videos. But now it’s real. Not that the other times weren’t real—”

Her soft laugh interrupts your rambling, and you freeze, realizing just how much you’ve been talking. “I get it,” she says, her tone warm and full of amusement. “You don’t need to explain.”

You bite your lip, nodding sheepishly as your fingers twitch nervously around the album. “Right. Sorry. I just… it’s surreal, you know?”

Her smile softens, and something in her gaze shifts, growing warmer. “Well, I’m glad I get to be part of your first experience,” she replies gently. Her voice feels so personal, so inviting, it’s almost as though she’s speaking directly into your thoughts. “Are you nervous?”

You laugh awkwardly, a dry, choked sound that you instantly regret. “A little,” you admit, your hand moving to the back of your neck in a clumsy attempt to play it cool. “Okay, maybe a lot.”

Her soft laugh feels like a reward, and you swear you see a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Don’t be,” she says, her voice light but carrying an undercurrent of sincerity. “It’s just me.”

“That’s kind of the problem,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I mean—not a problem! It’s just you’re, you know, you. And I’m… me.”

Her laugh is more open this time, a genuine sound that makes your heart flip. “And what’s wrong with being you?” she asks, her teasing tone laced with sincerity.

You open your mouth, then close it again, unsure how to respond. “Nothing, I guess,” you mumble, your voice so soft you’re not sure she even hears it.

Her expression softens further, and the simplicity of her next words catches you off guard. “It’s nice meeting you,” she says, and somehow, it feels like the most genuine thing you’ve ever heard.

As she finishes signing, she holds the album out to you, her fingers lingering just slightly against yours as you take it. The sensation is fleeting but searing, and your grip tightens around the album as if it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For everything. Your music, your… everything.”

Her head tilts again, a habit you’re quickly finding endearing. Her eyes meet yours in a way that feels unguarded, and for a moment, it’s as though the chaos of the room has dissolved into silence. “Take care,” she says softly, her smile lingering like an imprint in the air as you step back.

You clutch the signed album to your chest as you move away, every sensation from the past few moments replaying in your mind like a loop. The warmth of her fingers, the sound of her voice, the way her gaze made you feel seen. Each memory burns vividly, etching itself into your heart as one of the most precious experiences of your life.

After your encounter with Irene, you leave the signing area, your heart still hammering from the interaction. The world outside the small bubble of that moment feels oddly distant, like you’re walking through a dream. Clutching your signed album tightly, you wander aimlessly, letting the energy of the lingering fans wash over you. Everywhere you look, posters of Irene smile back at you, her image larger than life and yet somehow still not quite as radiant as she was up close.

You pause by one of the posters and instinctively pull out your phone. The absurdity of the moment hits you as you angle the camera for a selfie, trying to capture yourself next to her glossy image. “As if this could compare to the real thing,” you mutter under your breath, but you laugh softly at your own awkwardness and snap a few pictures anyway.

Other fans, catching sight of your antics, approach with wide smiles, eager to strike up conversations. Their excitement is infectious, and before you know it, you’re swapping stories about your favorite songs, performances, and how incredible Irene looked tonight. For a while, the warmth of shared admiration eases the nervous flutter still lingering in your chest. You even manage to laugh along as one fan reenacts their over-the-top reaction to Irene’s smile during their brief meeting.

But just as you’re starting to feel like yourself again, the easy atmosphere is interrupted by the arrival of a staff member. Her polished, professional demeanor contrasts sharply with the casual energy of the fans around you, and her gaze is sharp as it lands on you.

“Excuse me,” she says, her tone polite but firm, her eyes scanning you as though assessing every detail.

You blink, startled. “Uh… me?” you ask, your voice coming out higher than you intended.

“Yes, you,” she replies, nodding briskly. “Please follow me.”

Your stomach twists into a knot, and a flicker of anxiety sparks in your chest. “Did I… do something wrong?” you ask hesitantly, clutching your album tighter.

“No,” she says, her tone still impassive. “We just need you to come with us. This way, please.”

Her vague response only fuels your confusion, but curiosity outweighs your hesitation. You nod mutely, trailing after her as she leads you toward a side entrance. The farther you move from the bustling crowd, the more the energy of the venue fades, replaced by a quieter, more subdued atmosphere.

The staff member guides you through a discreet door, and you step into a backstage area. The contrast is jarring. The distant hum of fans is replaced by the low murmur of crew members and the soft clatter of equipment being packed away. The air feels cooler here, tinged with the faint scent of stage makeup and metal. Overhead lights flicker dimly, casting long, uncertain shadows along the corridors.

Your pulse quickens with each step, your mind racing to understand what’s happening. Was this a mistake? A misunderstanding? Why would someone like you be brought backstage? The question loops in your head, unanswered, as you follow the staff member down another hallway.

Finally, she stops in front of a small door, slightly ajar, light spilling softly into the hallway. “Please go inside,” she says simply, stepping aside.

You hesitate, glancing at the door with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. “Wait, what’s—”

But before you can finish, the staff member gives a small, polite smile and walks away, leaving you alone. You swallow hard, your palms clammy as you reach for the door and push it open.

The room inside is unexpectedly intimate. The warm glow of ambient lighting reflects off vintage mirrors, casting a golden hue over the elegant draperies and minimalist furniture. The faint scent of her perfume drifts through the air, calming but somehow charged with an undercurrent of mystery.

Your breath catches as your gaze lands on a familiar figure. Irene is standing by one of the mirrors, her back to you, adjusting a few strands of her hair. The sight of her in this quiet, private space feels almost unreal—like stumbling into a dream you hadn’t realized you were having.

She turns slowly, her movements so fluid and deliberate they seem almost choreographed, and when her eyes meet yours, it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. A physical jolt courses through you, your body instinctively tensing under the weight of her gaze. Her expression is calm, but the glint of mischief in her eyes makes your pulse race. She exudes confidence, yet there’s an undercurrent of something playful—something that sets your nerves on edge in a way you can’t quite describe.

“Hi again,” she says softly, her tone light but with an intimacy that seems to wrap itself around you. The space between you feels charged, the kind of tension that makes the smallest movements seem monumental.

She takes a step closer, her presence magnetic and overwhelming. “I’m glad you didn’t leave right away,” she murmurs, her voice warm but carrying an edge that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

You swallow hard, managing a shaky nod as you clutch the signed album against your chest like a shield. “I—I didn’t know this was going to happen,” you admit, your voice trembling under the intensity of her gaze.

Her lips curve into a deeper smile, the kind that feels dangerous yet alluring. “Did you hope for it to happen?” she asks, her tone teasing but laced with a gravity that makes your heart stutter.

“I… I don’t know,” you stammer, the words spilling out clumsily. “I mean, I didn’t expect—”

Her laugh is soft and melodic, wrapping around you like a silken thread. “You’re nervous again,” she observes, tilting her head slightly, her sharp eyes studying your face as if she’s savoring your reaction. “You were like this earlier too.”

“I’m not… that nervous,” you blurt out, but your voice betrays you, trembling just enough to make her raise an amused brow.

“Not that nervous?” she echoes, taking another deliberate step closer. The warmth of her proximity washes over you, her presence filling every inch of the space between you. “Then why are your hands shaking?”

Your gaze darts down instinctively, and your stomach twists when you see she’s right. Your fingers tremble as they clutch the album, and you quickly adjust your grip, trying in vain to steady them. “I’m just… overwhelmed, I guess,” you admit, your face burning as you glance back up. “This whole thing is just… so unexpected.”

Irene chuckles softly, the sound low and intimate, sending a shiver down your spine. “Unexpected, hmm?” she muses, tilting her head as though savoring the moment. “Did you not hope for a moment like this? Even a little?”

The weight of her words presses down on you, and your mind scrambles for an answer. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches, her gaze unrelenting, and the way she looks at you feels like she’s peeling back every layer, leaving you exposed.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she says, breaking the quiet, her voice playful yet carrying an edge that sends heat coursing through you. She lets the words hang for a moment, the corners of her lips curving up just slightly. Then she steps closer, so close now you can feel her warmth like a physical touch. “Tell me something,” she continues, her tone dropping lower, almost conspiratorial. “Have you thought about me before?”

The question spins in your mind, sending your thoughts spiraling. “I—I mean, yes,” you manage to stammer, each word a struggle. “I’m a fan, so of course—”

“No,” she interrupts, her voice steady but with a sharper edge that makes your breath hitch. Her eyes narrow slightly, the teasing glint giving way to something more focused. “Not like that. I mean… have you ever thought about me in a way that’s… more personal?”

The meaning of her words crashes into you, and you feel your face flush hot. “I—uh, I don’t… I didn’t—” The words tangle together, and your voice dies in your throat, leaving you stammering helplessly.

Her smile widens, the satisfaction in her eyes unmistakable. “Relax,” she says, her tone softening, though the teasing lilt remains.

She lets the silence stretch again, her presence consuming every corner of the room as her gaze lingers on yours. Then, with a tilt of her head and a shift in her expression, her voice drops to a softer, almost vulnerable tone. “Do you think I’m sexy?”

The question lands like a thunderbolt, the weight of it knocking the breath out of your lungs. “W-what?” you stammer, your voice cracking slightly under the pressure. “I—I mean…”

Her eyes remain steady, unwavering, as though she’s daring you to answer. “You heard me,” she says simply, her lips curving into a faint smile that feels both inviting and dangerous.

Your mouth goes dry, and the air between you feels impossibly heavy. After a long pause, you finally manage to croak out, “Yes. I—I think you’re… you’re very sexy.”

Her smile deepens, a flicker of excitement lighting her eyes. She steps even closer, the warmth of her body brushing against your arm. Her fingers trail lightly across your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. “Good,” she purrs, her voice low and melodic, dripping with satisfaction.

She pauses, letting the tension between you build before her gaze sharpens again. “You know,” she begins softly, her voice intimate and steady, “it’s okay to be honest with me.”

You blink, struggling to steady your breath. “Honest about… what?” you manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her smile turns coy, but the intensity in her eyes only grows. “You’ve thought about me before, haven’t you?” she asks, her voice slow and deliberate, every word rolling off her tongue like honey. “Not just as a fan, but… in other ways.”

Your heart slams against your ribs as you scramble for a response. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” you stammer, though the heat rising to your face makes it clear that you do.

Her soft laugh is low and indulgent, sending a shiver down your spine. “Don’t be shy,” she says, her tone dropping to something more sultry. She leans in slightly, her presence dominating the space between you. “You’ve thought about me while touching yourself, haven’t you?”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, your body going rigid as your mind scrambles to process the question. “I… uh… I…” The words tumble out incoherently, your face burning so hot it feels like it might catch fire.

Her smile widens, her satisfaction evident. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmurs, her tone rich with amusement and a hint of something deeper. The flicker of excitement in her expression grows, her eyes bright with the thrill of the moment. “It’s okay,” she adds softly, her voice softening slightly but still charged. “I was just curious.”

The tension in the air is palpable, the intimacy of the moment sinking deeper into your skin as her gaze holds yours unflinchingly. Irene’s lips curl into a faint smile, the kind that sends your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes flicking down for the briefest moment before meeting yours again, her expression softening just enough to keep you teetering on the edge of unease and fascination.

“And have you… done this before?” she asks, her voice quieter now, almost gentle.

Your throat tightens as her question lingers in the space between you, its meaning unmistakable. “Done what?” you ask, though your voice betrays that you already suspect where this is heading.

“This,” she replies, her hand gesturing vaguely between the two of you. Her movements are fluid, deliberate, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that feels impossible to look away from. “Have you been with someone? Touched someone? Kissed someone?”

Your heart pounds so hard you feel it in your ears, the blood rushing to your face as the words settle over you. The room seems to shrink, her presence consuming every corner of it, making it impossible to focus on anything but her. “No,” you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t.”

Her expression shifts subtly, a flicker of intrigue passing through her eyes before something deeper—something almost predatory—takes its place. “A virgin,” she says softly, as if testing the word on her tongue, savoring its weight. “That explains so much.”

You feel your breath hitch, your chest tightening as you struggle to respond. The silence between you stretches, thick and charged, every second heavy with anticipation. She takes a step closer, her movements unhurried but purposeful, and her hand lifts, her fingers grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispers, her voice like velvet, each word wrapping around you and sinking into your skin. Her thumb brushes gently against your cheekbone, the touch so tender it sends a shiver down your spine. “In fact, I think it’s… beautiful.”

She pauses for a moment, her gaze holding yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. Her lips curve into a soft, almost wistful smile, and there’s a flicker of something unspoken in her expression. “This world,” she murmurs, her tone shifting, almost reflective, “it’s changed so much. People rush through things, chasing fleeting moments without ever stopping to truly feel.”

Her fingers trace a slow, deliberate path along your jawline, her touch grounding yet electrifying. “But you,” she continues, her voice dropping lower, as if she’s sharing a secret meant only for you, “you’re so… pure. So untouched. It’s refreshing, really.

Her gaze darkens, her expression unreadable yet deeply captivating, as though she’s peeling back every layer of your thoughts. “Do you trust me?” she asks softly, her voice barely more than a breath.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest, but there’s a vulnerability in her question that steadies you. “Of course!...I mean… I think so,” you reply honestly, your voice shaky but sincere.

Her lips curve into a faint smile, one that feels equal parts reassuring and dangerous. “Good,” she murmurs, her voice dipping into something even softer, almost a purr. “Because I’m going to show you things you’ve only dreamed about.”

Before you can process her words, she leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like it might vanish if you move too quickly. The warmth of her breath mingles with yours, her scent enveloping you, subtle but intoxicatingly her. Her hand moves to the back of your neck, her fingers threading through your hair as she deepens the kiss, her movements unhurried but deliberate, as though savoring every moment.

Your body freezes at first, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, but her other hand comes to rest lightly on your waist, her touch grounding you. Slowly, you find yourself melting under her, her warmth and presence consuming you entirely. The sound of your uneven breaths mingles with the faint rustle of fabric as she pulls you closer, her body pressing against yours with a natural ease that leaves you breathless.

Every sensation feels heightened—the softness of her lips, the faint tickle of her hair brushing against your cheek, the way her fingers grip you just tightly enough to send a thrill down your spine. Time seems to slow, the outside world dissolving until there’s nothing but the two of you, wrapped in a moment that feels both impossibly real and utterly surreal.

When she finally pulls back, her lips linger close to yours, her breath warm against your skin. Her eyes search yours, her expression a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something unreadable. “You’re trembling,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with amusement as her fingers trail down your arm. “Are you okay?”

You nod wordlessly, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, the rhythm of your pounding heart almost deafening in the silence. Every nerve in your body feels heightened, attuned to her every movement. Irene’s gaze remains locked onto yours, her eyes lingering with an intensity that leaves you rooted to the spot. She seems to savor the moment, the weight of it stretching as her soft smile transforms into a knowing smirk.

Her hands move with deliberate grace, reaching for the hem of her blouse. The gentle shift of fabric brushing against her skin fills the air, and her voice, low and commanding, cuts through the silence. “Let’s take this off,” she murmurs.

Your breath catches as she slowly lifts her blouse, the smooth motion revealing more of her flawless skin. The dim light of the room casts a warm glow across her body, accentuating the curve of her waist, the soft slope of her stomach, and the graceful line of her shoulders. The air feels charged, every subtle sound—her blouse slipping away, the soft rustle as it lands on a nearby chair—heightened to a point of almost unbearable clarity.

Your eyes widen as she reaches behind her back, fingers deftly unclasping her bra. The delicate garment slides effortlessly from her shoulders, falling away like water, leaving her bare before you. Her skin is smooth, luminous in the golden light, every line and contour of her body exuding confidence and an undeniable allure. The gentle swell of her breasts, the softness of her curves, the way she holds herself with such effortless poise—it all leaves you completely spellbound.

Your chest tightens as you struggle to process the sight before you, your mind stumbling over itself in disbelief. She’s breathtaking, like a vision plucked straight from your wildest dreams, and the sheer reality of the moment sends a shiver racing down your spine. This is happening. She’s here, with you.

Irene’s eyes flick to your face, catching the way your gaze lingers on her, and her smirk deepens, a playful glint lighting up her expression. “You’re a lucky boy, aren’t you?” she teases, her voice rich with amusement and dripping with confidence.

You nod again, dumbly, your throat too dry to form a response. Her words hang in the air, teasing but undeniably true, and the way she steps closer, closing the space between you, only magnifies the sense of intimacy crackling in the room.

Her hands reach for your shirt, her fingers moving with purpose as they work their way down the buttons. Each flick of her fingers sends a jolt of electricity through you, her touch light yet deliberate, igniting your skin with every graze. “Let’s see what you’re working with,” she murmurs, her tone equal parts playful and commanding.

The fabric slides off your shoulders, falling to the floor in a whisper. Her touch lingers for a moment, her fingertips brushing against your collarbone, tracing the line of your chest, before she steps back, her gaze sweeping over you with an approving glint.

Her eyes move slowly, deliberately, taking in every detail of your bare form as though memorizing it. The weight of her attention leaves you feeling exposed but not uncomfortable—there’s something almost reverent in the way she looks at you, her expression softening just slightly as a small smile tugs at her lips.

“Not bad at all,” she murmurs, her voice low and rich with satisfaction. The words are simple, but the way she says them sends a rush of heat through you, her approval a balm to your nerves. Her gaze flicks back to yours, her smirk returning as she leans in closer, her presence overwhelming in the best possible way.

The heat between you was palpable, every breath shared and every touch igniting the tension that had been simmering between you. Irene leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck as she guided you down onto the plush couch, her movements unhurried yet deliberate. The soft cushions pressed against your back, and her warm, bare skin against yours was a sensation so overwhelming it made your thoughts scatter. Her breasts, soft and inviting, molded against your chest as she pressed closer, her body moving with a fluid confidence that left you breathless.

Her presence was intoxicating. Every shift of her weight, every brush of her smooth skin against yours, sent jolts of electricity racing through you. You felt your arousal surge uncontrollably, your body betraying you as you leaked against her thigh. The heat pooling between you was undeniable, impossible to ignore.

Irene noticed immediately, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she shifted, her thigh pressing more firmly against you. Her lips curved into a knowing smile, her gaze dipping briefly before meeting yours again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like someone’s eager,” she teased, her voice low and sultry, the sound wrapping around you like silk.

Her teasing didn’t stop there. She adjusted her hips slightly, her movement deliberate as she ground against you just enough to make you gasp. The sensation was maddening, her warmth and wetness brushing against you, heightening your sensitivity to every tiny shift and touch. You tried to steady your breath, but the way she looked at you made it impossible.

“I like seeing you like this,” she murmured, her fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. The touch was featherlight, her nails grazing your skin as she studied your face with a mix of amusement and desire. “So vulnerable. So… willing.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, but it was her next move that truly unraveled you. Irene’s lips curled into a smirk as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. “Before we go any further,” she began, her tone dropping to a low, commanding purr, “there’s something I want to hear from you.”

Her fingers tilted your chin slightly, her gaze locking onto yours with a playful intensity that made your heart race. “I want you to call me Mommy,” she said, her voice steady, laced with a confidence that left no room for hesitation.

The words hung in the air, heavy and electrifying. Your breath hitched, your mind racing as you tried to process her request. “M-Mommy?” you stammered, the word foreign on your tongue, your voice shaky as you struggled to say it.

“That’s right,” she murmured, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear as she whispered, “Call me Mommy. I want to hear it.”

Her tone was firm but coaxing, and the raw need behind her words sent shivers cascading through you. You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing against you as you finally whispered, “Mommy,” barely audible.

Her reaction was immediate. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips, her hands tightening slightly on your shoulders as her body trembled with excitement. “Again,” she demanded softly, her voice trembling with arousal, her eyes dark with anticipation.

“Mommy,” you repeated, louder this time, the word rolling off your tongue with surprising ease. It felt strange at first, but the way she responded—her thighs trembling, her lips parting slightly, the subtle arch of her back—made it feel right. Natural, even. The connection deepened, the tension between you amplifying in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“Good boy,” Irene purred, her voice thick with satisfaction and desire. Her hips moved against you again, her wetness brushing against your length, and the sensation made you twitch with need. “You have no idea how good that makes me feel,” she continued, her tone laced with unrestrained pleasure.

Her excitement was palpable, her arousal feeding off your submission to her request. The way she ground her hips against you, her movements becoming more deliberate, made your pulse race, and the soft, breathy moans escaping her lips spurred you on.

As you shifted, positioning yourself over her, a sudden thought struck you. You hesitated, your hands trembling slightly against her hips. “I… I don’t have a condom,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the moment made your confession feel like an interruption.

Irene’s eyes softened, her expression shifting instantly to one of reassurance. She cupped your cheek, her touch warm and firm as she pulled you down, letting your foreheads touch. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered, her tone soothing yet steady. “Let’s just feel each other. This will be a proper first time.”

Her words washed over you, dissolving the last of your hesitation. The unwavering confidence in her voice and the tenderness in her gaze filled you with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you needed. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as she spread her legs wider, welcoming you in with an openness that left you breathless.

You align yourself with her entrance, your body trembling with anticipation. The moment felt impossibly real, every nerve alive with the electric charge of what was about to happen. But as you moved to press inside, you missed—the head of your length slipping against her slick folds instead. A flush of embarrassment washed over you, and you stammered, “S-sorry,” your voice shaky as you avoided her gaze.

Irene let out a soft, melodic laugh, her hand reaching for yours with a gentleness that steadied you. “It’s okay, baby,” she said softly, her voice full of patience and understanding. Guiding you with practiced ease, she adjusted your angle, her touch deliberate and sure. “Here… just like this.”

With her guidance, you slid inside her, and the sensation overwhelmed you instantly, like a tidal wave crashing over your senses. The heat was all-encompassing, a searing warmth that seemed to pull you deeper, while the wet, silken texture of her body wrapped around you, cradling you in a way that felt impossibly perfect. It was as though she had been made for you, every movement drawing you further into a connection you’d only dreamed of. Your chest tightened, and your breath caught, the sheer intensity of the moment rendering you motionless for a heartbeat.

Your mind reeled as the reality of it sank in: you were inside Irene—the woman you had admired from afar for years. The one who had occupied your thoughts, your dreams, your quiet moments of longing. And now, her warmth surrounded you, her body fitting against yours like the last piece of a puzzle you never thought you’d complete. The intimacy was overwhelming, both physically and emotionally, and it took everything in you to steady yourself, to remember to breathe.

Your eyes darted to hers, seeking reassurance, and what you found made your heart swell. Irene’s gaze met yours, her eyes soft and full of tenderness, yet smoldering with desire that sent a shiver down your spine. Her lips curved into a gentle smile, one that held no judgment, only encouragement. She raised her hands to your shoulders, her fingertips brushing lightly against your skin, grounding you in the moment as she whispered, “You’re doing well, baby.”

Her words melted into you, a quiet melody that soothed your nerves and spurred your confidence. Slowly, she shifted, her legs wrapping around your waist in an embrace that drew you closer. The slight arch of her back, the way her body trembled faintly against yours, made the connection feel deeper, richer. Her warmth seemed endless, her body adjusting to yours with a fluidity that felt almost magical.

Each subtle movement of hers—her hips pressing gently into yours, her arms tightening around your back—spoke a language you didn’t need words to understand. The sensation of her, of being completely joined with her, was unlike anything you’d ever imagined. Her skin was hot and smooth under your palms, her breathing soft yet uneven as it matched your own.

“Look at me,” she whispered, her voice soft but commanding. One of her hands cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I want you to see how good you’re making me feel.”

You obeyed, your gaze locking onto hers. Her expression was raw, unguarded—desire mingling with affection, her lips parting slightly as a soft moan escaped. Her cheeks glowed in the dim light, her skin luminous with warmth as her breaths came quicker, matching your own. Every moment, every movement, felt like it was drawing the two of you closer, deepening the connection in a way that left you both utterly consumed.

“You’re doing so well,” she murmured, her voice like honey, rich and soothing. Her fingers traced the curve of your jaw, her touch soft yet firm, grounding you as your body trembled with anticipation. “Just take it slow. Feel me.”

You began to move, your hips shifting tentatively at first, each thrust deliberate and cautious. Your body quaked with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness, every movement guided by the quiet encouragement in her voice. Irene’s soft moans spilled into the air like a melody, her sounds coaxing you, pulling you deeper into the moment. The way she responded to you—the arch of her back, the way her nails lightly grazed your skin—sent waves of heat through you, spurring you on.

Her eyes caught yours, and a smile tugged at her lips, equal parts reassuring and hungry. She reached up, cupping your face in her hands, and pulled you down into a deep kiss. Her lips moved against yours with a fervent intensity, her hunger unmistakable. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a connection, a melding of desire and trust that left you spiraling.

The sensations were overwhelming—the warmth of her body beneath you, the way her breath hitched each time you moved, the intoxicating taste of her kiss. Every inch of your skin seemed alive, buzzing with electricity as her soft moans blended with the sound of your labored breaths. Your hips faltered, your rhythm breaking as the buildup reached an unbearable crescendo. The heat coiling in your core surged forward, unstoppable, and with one final thrust, you erupted inside her.

The intensity of your release hit you like a tidal wave, your entire body trembling as a raw, primal energy coursed through you. It was nothing like you’d ever felt before—every nerve alight, your mind completely blank save for the sensation of her warmth enveloping you. Your legs buckled beneath you as the strength drained from your body, and you slipped slightly, unintentionally pushing deeper into her. A sharp, unsteady gasp escaped your lips as your entire body shuddered, unable to hold itself up under the sheer force of the moment.

Irene let out a soft, breathy moan as your weight pressed into her, her hands moving to steady you, her touch gentle yet firm. Her fingers trailed along your back, grounding you as your chest heaved against hers, your breaths coming in uneven bursts. The world seemed to tilt, the edges of your vision blurring as the aftershocks rippled through you, leaving you weak and trembling.

“Mommy, I–I’m sorry,” you stammered after a moment, your voice shaky with embarrassment and panic. The realization of what had just happened hit you all at once, and you struggled to lift yourself off her, though your arms felt like jelly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” Irene interrupted gently, her fingers brushing against your lips to quiet you. Her touch was warm, reassuring, and her smile, soft and knowing, made your panic ebb slightly. Her expression glowed with a mix of affection and satisfaction, her eyes sparkling as she held your gaze. There was no judgment, only warmth and a hint of playfulness that sent a flicker of heat through your chest. “It’s okay, baby. That was bound to happen.”

Her hand moved to the back of your head, her fingers threading through your hair as she pulled you down to rest against her chest. The rise and fall of her breathing was steady, soothing, a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “It just means you couldn’t help yourself,” she whispered, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction. Her words were gentle, but there was a glimmer of something deeper in her tone—pride, even delight.

“And honestly…” Her voice dipped lower, almost a purr as her fingers lightly trailed down your spine, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake. “It makes me feel sexy knowing how much I excite you.”

Her words hung in the air, thick with an electric tension that made your heart race all over again. The confidence in her tone, the way her lips curved into a knowing smile, only magnified the pull she had on you. She shifted slightly beneath you, her body still warm and soft against yours, her every movement exuding an effortless sensuality that left you utterly captivated.

“Feeling this way,” she murmured, her nails lightly grazing your scalp as she held you close, “it’s like you’re showing me exactly how irresistible I am to you. And that… makes me want you even more.”

She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, her fingers threading gently through your hair. “Don’t worry,” she murmured, her voice a calming balm. “We have plenty of time to work on your stamina.”

Despite her reassurance, your face burned with embarrassment as you slowly pulled out of her. The sensation left you trembling, your heart racing as your eyes fell to the sight of your release seeping from her entrance. The visual was hypnotic—raw and intimate—and it sent an unbidden twitch through your already overly sensitive length. A mix of awe and arousal coursed through you, leaving your thoughts scrambled.

Irene sat up on the couch, her movements unhurried and graceful despite the intimacy you had just shared. Her bare skin glistened faintly in the soft light, her chest rising and falling with her steady breaths. When her eyes met yours, there was no judgment—only a playful glint dancing within them. She leaned back slightly, spreading her legs just enough to hold your gaze captive.

“Don’t look so embarrassed,” she teased, her tone soft but laced with amusement. “We’ve got plenty of time to figure this out.” Her voice carried an air of authority that both comforted and electrified you as she motioned for you to kneel. “Now, come here. Let me teach you how to pleasure a woman.”

The mix of her confidence and warmth quelled some of your lingering nerves, though your hands still trembled slightly as you lowered yourself to your knees. The position felt both humbling and thrilling, your gaze flickering between her face and her glistening folds, still dripping with the evidence of your earlier climax. The scent of her arousal hung in the air, musky and intoxicating, sending another pulse of heat through your body.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against the back of your head before gently cupping it, guiding you closer with practiced ease. Her touch was tender yet firm, leaving no doubt about her control of the moment. “Don’t overthink it,” she murmured, her lips curling into a reassuring smile that sent a spark of courage through you. “Just follow my lead.”

The moment your lips met her warm, slick folds, your senses were flooded. The taste was intense and impossible to describe—earthy, musky, and utterly intoxicating. It was primal, a flavor that ignited something deep within you, rendering the nervous chatter in your mind silent. All that remained was the overwhelming need to please her, to feel her body respond to your touch.

“Good,” Irene breathed, her voice soft and laced with pleasure. “Now, use your tongue to tease me. Start with light strokes… right there.”

You followed her instructions carefully, your tongue moving tentatively at first, flicking gently against her entrance. The wet heat of her arousal coated your tongue as you explored her, drawing soft sighs of approval from her lips. Her hand remained steady on the back of your head, her fingers threading lightly through your hair as she guided your movements.

“Press a little harder,” she murmured, her hips shifting slightly against your mouth. Her voice was patient but tinged with desire, every word spurring you on. “Yes, just like that. Now move up… here.”

She pointed to her clit with one hand, her fingers brushing it lightly to show you exactly where to focus. You obeyed, your lips wrapping around the sensitive nub as your tongue began to flick against it in slow, deliberate movements. The effect was immediate—her thighs trembled slightly, and a low moan escaped her lips, rich and unrestrained.

“That’s it,” she gasped, her voice catching as her head tilted back. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

The weight of her praise lit a fire inside you, driving your movements to become bolder and more confident. Your tongue traced circles around her clit, alternating with quick flicks that matched the rhythm of her shallow, rapid breaths. Her body responded in ways that left you in awe—her hips shifting, her thighs trembling, her breathing growing heavier with each moment.

“Use more pressure here,” she urged, her voice breaking slightly with urgency. “Yes… just like that. Now flick… mmm, perfect.”

Her moans grew louder, her hands gripping your hair—not to guide you, but to anchor herself as the sensations overwhelmed her. The tremble in her thighs intensified, her body tightening as your tongue worked her closer to the edge. Her nails pressed lightly into your scalp, her hips rocking in time with your movements as she lost herself in the rising pleasure.

The rhythm of her moans and the way her body reacted filled you with a sense of accomplishment, a primal pride that pushed you to keep going. You adjusted, moving with her as your tongue worked in unison with her rising need, tracing every sensitive spot she pointed out. Her thighs quaked against your cheeks, her voice becoming a mix of gasps and cries as you brought her closer, her pleasure radiating through every part of you.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice breathless and tinged with desperation. Her hips began to move instinctively, grinding against your mouth, her rhythm purposeful and commanding. The slick warmth of her folds pressed firmly against your lips, her arousal coating your tongue as the taste and scent of her overwhelmed your senses. Every soft cry, every tremble of her thighs, spurred you on, pushing you to match her urgency.

Her moans grew sharper, raw and unrestrained, her control slipping as her body chased its breaking point. Her hips bucked harder, grinding against you, her movements becoming erratic as you pressed your tongue harder against her clit. You flicked and sucked with everything you had, fueled not just by the pleasure radiating from her but by the sheer pride swelling in your chest. This was Irene—the idol you had adored for years—and you were the one unraveling her, the one reducing her to this trembling, vulnerable state.

Her thighs clenched around your head, her hands tangling in your hair as her moans became cries, each sound sharper and more desperate than the last. You felt the tension building in her body, every shift of her hips, every quiver of her muscles driving her closer and closer to the edge. The knowledge that you—someone so inexperienced—were capable of drawing this level of pleasure from her only deepened your determination.

“I’m so close,” she gasped, her voice breaking as her back arched off the couch. Her tone was raw, almost pleading, as she clung to the final threads of control. “Don’t stop… don’t you dare stop.”

Her words hit you like a command, and you obeyed without hesitation, moving with a purpose that mirrored her rising need. Her body tensed beneath you, her thighs trembling violently against your face as the tension inside her finally snapped. With one final, desperate grind, Irene cried out—a raw, guttural sound that filled the room. Her body arched as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, her muscles pulsing and quivering against your mouth as her orgasm consumed her.

The moment was mesmerizing, intimate, and deeply humbling. As she came apart in your hands, you felt an immense swell of pride, the realization hitting you with staggering force: you had done this. You had brought her to this peak. The woman you’d admired for so long, this untouchable vision of perfection, was utterly undone because of you.

Her grip on your hair tightened briefly, her fingers threading through it as though to steady herself, before her hands fell away, her body collapsing back onto the couch in a state of complete surrender. You pulled back slightly, your lips and chin glistening, your own breath ragged as you took her in. Irene was a vision—her flushed cheeks, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, the faint sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. She was beautiful, vulnerable, and utterly yours in that moment.

As her breathing steadied, her eyes fluttered open, her gaze softening as it met yours. A satisfied smile spread across her lips, a mix of pride, affection, and something deeper flickering in her expression. She reached out, her fingers brushing tenderly against your cheek, her touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry, each word dripping with satisfaction. Her praise sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through your body, your heart pounding with both pride and awe. The fact that she—your idol—was praising you, calling you her “good boy,” only deepened the intimacy of the moment.

“You’re a fast learner,” she added, her tone laced with both amusement and pride. But as her smile widened, there was something else in her gaze—possessiveness, a quiet but unmistakable sense of ownership. She loved knowing that she was your first and only, the one who had drawn this effort, this passion, from you.

“You know,” she murmured, her fingers tracing your jawline as she leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping lower. “I love how no one else has ever seen you like this, felt you like this.” Her lips curved into a smirk as her fingers trailed down to your chest, lingering there as she added, “And no one else will.”

Her possessiveness was subtle but undeniable, a claim spoken through her touch, her gaze, and the way her words wrapped around you. The thought of being hers, of belonging to her in this way, sent a thrill through you that mingled with the lingering pride of having brought her so much pleasure.

As her eyes drifted downward, her smirk deepened. She noticed your arousal, now fully hardened again, throbbing with renewed energy despite the intensity of what you’d just shared. Her confidence radiated as she leaned back slightly, her movements unhurried, her body still glowing in the aftermath.

“Well,” she said, her voice teasing but filled with promise, her fingers trailing down your chest, “it seems like you’re ready for round two.” Her tone carried the same mix of pride and playful dominance that left you completely captivated, her gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race all over again.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but the sight of Irene—her body still glowing, her skin flushed, her lips curled into a satisfied yet teasing smile—only drove your need higher. Her eyes, half-lidded but sharp, seemed to drink you in, a mixture of pride and hunger swirling within them. It was a look that sent a jolt through every part of you.

You knelt before her, determination and longing fueling your every move. “Mommy, let me try again,” you said, your voice low but trembling with nervous excitement. The smirk that spread across her lips deepened, her gaze sweeping over you in a way that made your skin tingle, as if she was already savoring what came next.

“Redemption, huh?” Irene teased, her sultry tone wrapping around you like velvet. She leaned back slightly, her hands trailing up your arms, encouraging and expectant. “Alright, baby. Show me what you’ve learned.”

Her legs parted gracefully, welcoming you in, and the heat radiating from her folds drew you closer, your arousal throbbing at the sight of her. You positioned yourself carefully, hovering above her, your hands steady on her hips as her fingers traced idle patterns along your arms. Every touch, every look she gave you felt like both a challenge and an invitation.

This time, you were resolute. With a slow, deliberate motion, you slid inside her, her tight, slick warmth enveloping you completely. A shuddering gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, the overwhelming pleasure igniting every nerve in your body. Irene’s head fell back against the cushions, her eyes fluttering shut as a soft moan slipped from her lips. Her hands gripped your shoulders, grounding herself as her body adjusted to your presence.

You began to move, your hips rolling in slow, steady thrusts, savoring every inch of her. Each motion elicited a quiet sound of approval from her, her breath hitching slightly as you set a confident rhythm. The connection between you grew with every movement, the sound of her quiet moans filling the space, spurring you on.

Then, an idea struck you—a bold impulse born of your longing to see her completely undone. Lowering your head, you brushed your lips against the curve of her breast. Irene’s eyes opened briefly, her breath catching in surprise, but she didn’t stop you. If anything, the slight arch of her back told you to keep going. Your tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing it with light strokes before pulling it gently into your mouth.

“Ah—” The sound she made was sharper than before, a soft cry that sent a thrill coursing through you. Her nails dug lightly into your shoulders, her body responding instantly to the new sensation. “Oh… good boy,” she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure as your tongue circled her sensitive bud.

The pride in her voice ignited something deeper within you, driving your lips and tongue to lavish her other breast with equal attention. You alternated between gentle nibbles and slow, deliberate flicks of your tongue, watching as her chest rose and fell more erratically. Her reactions spurred you on, her soft gasps and low moans growing louder with every touch, every kiss.

“You’re full of surprises,” she murmured, her voice rich with approval but laced with a faint edge of possession. The way you explored her body, your eagerness and growing confidence, made her heart race. The thought that she alone had awakened this side of you, that no one else would ever know this version of you, filled her with a fierce pride that only deepened her desire.

After a few more languid thrusts, you felt yourself nearing the edge again, the tight heat of her body pulling you dangerously close. But this time, you pulled out, your resolve firm. Lowering yourself between her legs, you replaced your length with your tongue, eagerly lapping at her folds to keep her pleasure building. The slickness of her arousal coated your lips, the intoxicating taste spurring you to push past your own limits.

“Fuck…. Such a good boy,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in your hair as you worked her clit with focused precision. The way her hips bucked against your mouth, her breath catching with each flick of your tongue, filled you with a pride that matched her own. You wanted her to feel everything, to give her every ounce of yourself.

Her moans grew louder, her voice tinged with desperation as she clung to the edge. “Yes… just like that,” she panted, her body trembling as you brought her closer again. “Don’t stop, baby.”

When you felt ready once more, you rose above her, positioning yourself carefully. Irene’s legs wrapped around your waist, drawing you in as you slid back inside her. Her moan this time was deeper, her nails dragging lightly down your back as you set a steady rhythm. The wet, slick friction was overwhelming, but you were determined to match her pace, to give her everything she deserved.

As your thrusts quickened, you dipped your head again, your mouth capturing her nipple once more. The unexpected move made her gasp sharply, her back arching into you as her hips met yours in perfect rhythm. “Oh—yes,” she cried, her voice raw and unrestrained. The mix of sensations—your tongue on her breasts and your length driving into her—pushed her closer, the sounds of her pleasure creating a symphony that left you both breathless.

Her body tightened around you, her warmth and the sheer intensity of the connection sending you spiraling toward your own release. The way she moaned your name, the way her hands gripped your arms as if she couldn’t let you go, made you feel both powerful and completely hers. Every motion, every sound, every shared breath between you deepened the bond, leaving you utterly captivated by her and the moment you had created together.

“Mommy,” you murmured instinctively, the word slipping from your lips as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality. Her name carried the weight of your longing, your admiration, and the raw intensity of the moment. The sound of it filled the air between you, intimate and charged.

The effect on her was immediate. Her eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a look of wild hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. Her lips parted slightly, a soft gasp escaping as her body responded to the sound of her name. “Say it again,” she demanded, her voice trembling with need, thick with desire.

“Mommy,” you repeated, your voice rough and fervent, the syllables tumbling out with an urgency that mirrored the heat building between you. “You feel so good.”

Her reaction was electric. Her back arched off the couch, her nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to leave faint crescents in your skin. The way her body clenched around you, pulling you deeper with every thrust, made your pulse pound in your ears. Her moans became louder, more urgent, the sound of her pleasure igniting something primal in you.

The way she responded to you—her gasps, the tremor in her thighs, the flush spreading down her chest—filled you with an overwhelming sense of pride. You could see it in her face, the way she lost herself in you, and it made your heart race with the knowledge that you were the one drawing this from her. You moved faster, the rhythm of your hips frantic now, your control slipping as the tension coiled tighter inside you both.

“Mommy, I’m close” you groaned again, the title spilling from your lips like a prayer. Each time you said it, her reaction grew more visceral, her body tightening around you, her cries reaching new heights.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, her hands cupping your face as she pulled you down into a kiss that left you breathless. Her lips moved against yours with desperate hunger, the connection between you electric. Her taste, her scent, the warmth of her skin—all of it consumed you entirely, blurring the edges of the world around you.

“I’m so close,” she whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with vulnerability and urgency. Her body trembled beneath you, her hips meeting yours with unrestrained fervor.

“Me too,” you panted, your forehead pressing against hers as your thrusts grew erratic, the tension in your core threatening to snap. The sound of her voice, the way her body clung to yours—it was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Her release came first, a sharp cry of ecstasy tearing from her lips as her body convulsed around you. The sound was raw, unrestrained, and it echoed in your ears, sending a jolt of electricity straight through you. The way her inner walls clenched and pulsed rhythmically around your length was unlike anything you had ever experienced—an intoxicating mix of heat and pressure that made it impossible to hold back. Her thighs trembled violently, tightening around your waist as though she were anchoring herself to you in the overwhelming storm of her pleasure.

Her back arched sharply, her chest pressing against yours as wave after wave of ecstasy wracked her body. You could feel every shudder, every tremble, her body’s response drawing you deeper into the moment. Her hands gripped at your shoulders, her nails biting into your skin as though she couldn’t contain the sheer force of it. Each convulsion, each flutter of her body around you, only intensified the sensations coursing through you, pulling you closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” she purred, her voice a sultry whisper as she let her body sink deeper into the couch. “Fill mommy up. You’ve been so good for me.”

The sight of her—her head tilted back, her lips parted as breathless moans spilled from her, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim light—was enough to send you spiraling. You felt your own release building, coiling tighter and tighter until there was no holding back.

Your release surged through you, your body shaking as you spilled into her, the waves of pleasure crashing over you both in perfect unison. The shared intensity was overwhelming, each of you amplifying the other’s climax in a way that made it feel infinite, boundless. Your hips moved instinctively, prolonging the moment, the friction and heat drawing out every last shudder of ecstasy.

Her arms wrapped around you as you collapsed against her, your bodies slick with sweat and trembling in the aftermath. The soft rise and fall of her chest beneath you, the gentle rhythm of her breathing mingling with yours, created a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. Irene’s fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns across your back, grounding you as your heart began to slow. The scent of your combined musk lingered in the air, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

“Pretty good for your first time,” she murmured softly, her voice tinged with satisfaction and a lingering huskiness. There was pride in her tone, but also something deeper—an affection that made your chest tighten. Her hands slid into your hair, cradling your head against her as she pressed a tender kiss to your temple.

You shifted slightly, lifting your head just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes sparkled with serene contentment, her expression relaxed but teasing as her fingers brushed through your damp hair. “So,” she murmured, her voice warm and playful, “how does it feel to finally cross that line?”

Your cheeks flushed, but the words came easily, carried by the warmth of the moment. “It’s… indescribable,” you admitted, your voice soft but earnest. “Because it was with you. Never in a million years did I think this would happen.”

Unable to resist, you leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to her shoulder, your lips savoring the softness of her skin. The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you like a protective shield, the glow of your shared connection filling the room with a warmth you never wanted to fade. Her hand found its way to the back of your neck, her fingers lightly stroking your skin as she held you close.

As the intensity of the moment began to ebb, you collapsed fully against her, your chest pressing against hers as her arms wrapped protectively around you. Her fingertips brushed tenderly through your hair, each motion laced with affection. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of praise. “You made mommy feel so good… I’m proud of you.”

Her words sent a fresh wave of warmth through you, the sincerity in her tone soothing any lingering nerves. You remained pressed against her, your bodies entwined in the afterglow of your shared release. Her soft breaths ghosted against your ear, each exhale a tender reminder of the closeness you had just shared. Slowly, her hands began to move again, tracing gentle, soothing strokes along your back. Her touch was light but steady, radiating a quiet affection that anchored you to the moment.

The high of your climax still lingered in the air as your breathing slowed and synced with hers. Irene’s arms remained securely wrapped around you, her fingers drawing delicate patterns along your spine. The warmth of her skin against yours, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the faint hum of satisfaction in her chest created a cocoon of intimacy that made the rest of the world feel far away.

After a long pause, her voice broke the silence, quiet but firm. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” she said suddenly, her fingers stilling as she lifted your face to meet her gaze. Her expression was calm but serious, her eyes searching yours as though seeking a promise. “I mean it. I’m not letting you go after tonight.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, and your chest tightened as you processed the weight of what she was saying. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay with you.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes shimmering with a mix of relief and affection. “Good boy,” she murmured, her tone gentle but laced with pride. “Let’s go to my place, then. I want you there. With me.”

Her words sent a surge of excitement through you, a mix of nerves and disbelief swirling in your chest. Irene’s house—her personal space, her sanctuary—it was something you’d only ever dreamed of seeing. But the warmth in her eyes and the soft, grounding pressure of her hand on yours erased any hesitation.

She helped you dress, her movements unhurried and deliberate, her quiet confidence calming your racing thoughts. Once ready, the two of you stepped out into the cool night air. The hum of lingering fans still filled the space outside, their energy a sharp contrast to the quiet intimacy you’d just shared. Irene tugged a cap low over her face and adjusted her mask to obscure her features, her elegant jawline and sharp eyes barely visible beneath her disguise. But even with her face half-hidden, her presence was unmistakable to you.

The crowd wasn’t massive, but it was enough to make your chest tighten with worry. What if someone spotted her? The thought made your pulse quicken, and you instinctively glanced over at her. She caught your gaze, her eyes softening as she squeezed your hand lightly. “It’s fine,” she murmured, her voice calm but encouraging. “Just stay close to me.”

You nodded, but the nervousness lingered, your mind racing with the thought of her being recognized. Then, without really thinking, you tightened your grip on her hand, an idea sparking in your chest. “This way!” you whispered, breaking into a grin as you gently pulled her along a quieter path.

She blinked, momentarily surprised, before a soft laugh escaped her lips. Irene allowed herself to be led, her steps quickening to match your pace. You darted through the dimly lit side alleys, ducking past clusters of fans and steering her confidently through the maze of the venue’s surroundings. Every so often, you glanced back at her to make sure she was keeping up, your boyish energy bubbling over in a way you couldn’t suppress.

She didn’t say much, but the amused twinkle in her eyes was impossible to miss. The spontaneity of your actions, the way you move with purpose yet couldn’t hide your youthful excitement—it caught her off guard in the best way. She hadn’t expected this side of you, and it made her chest tighten with an unfamiliar warmth. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she let you take charge, the simple joy radiating from you pulling her in further.

“You’re really into this, huh?” she finally said, her tone light but carrying a teasing affection.

You glanced back, your grin sheepish but bright. “Just trying to keep you out of the spotlight,” you replied earnestly, your voice slightly breathless from the adrenaline of it all.

Irene shook her head, her smile deepening. “You’re cute,” she murmured, her voice almost to herself. The way you darted through the shadows, focused yet visibly buzzing with excitement, made her want to laugh—but not in mockery. There was something so genuine about your energy, so pure, that she found herself falling for it without even realizing.

When the two of you finally reached her car, you opened the door for her with an almost comical nervousness, as though you were escorting royalty. She chuckled softly as she slid into the driver’s seat, watching you fumble slightly with your seatbelt before settling in beside her. The sleek interior of her car was exactly what you’d imagined—elegant, understated, and carrying the faint scent of her perfume. You tried to stay composed, but the reality of being in Irene’s car hit you all at once.

“This is amazing,” you muttered, your voice half in awe. “I mean… your car. I can’t believe I’m here.”

Her eyes flicked to you, amusement tugging at her lips. “It’s just a car, baby,” she teased, though there was a warmth in her tone that made your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, but it’s your car,” you replied, barely able to contain yourself. You glanced out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of color, your thoughts spinning as you tried to process everything. “I never thought I’d—this is just… insane.”

Irene smiled quietly, shaking her head as she returned her focus to the road. “Relax,” she said, her voice gentle but teasing. “We’re almost home.”

The journey passed in a surreal haze for you, but for Irene, it was something else entirely. She kept stealing glances at you out of the corner of her eye, watching the way your awe slowly slipped out in small, unguarded bursts. The way you ran your fingers lightly over the seat belt strap as if to confirm it was real, the way you gazed out the window with wide eyes, taking in every detail like you were living a dream—it all tugged at something deep inside her. She didn’t say much, but her heart softened with every moment, the quiet joy you radiated making her smile more than she realized.

When the car finally pulled into her driveway, your breath hitched. Her house was grand yet understated, its sleek lines illuminated by the soft glow of the outdoor lights. The manicured garden added a touch of warmth, the entire scene exuding Irene’s elegance. You barely managed to follow her inside, your steps faltering as you took in your surroundings.

Inside, the awe only deepened. Photos of Irene adorned the walls, each one more striking than the last. You paused in front of one—a candid shot of her backstage, her face lit up with laughter—and your chest tightened. Her house felt so unmistakably her, a blend of sophistication and comfort that made every corner feel like an extension of her personality.

“This is…” you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words.

“Overwhelming?” she teased, her tone light as she watched your reaction.

You nodded, laughing nervously. “Yeah. It’s just so… you.”

Her smile softened, and she stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly against yours. “You’re so cute,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of pride. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before she tilted her head toward the hallway. “Come on, baby. Let’s get comfortable.”

She led you to her bedroom, and your breath caught as the door opened. The space was stunning, every detail carefully curated to reflect Irene’s elegance and warmth. The soft glow of ambient lighting bathed the room in a golden hue, highlighting the muted tones of the walls and the understated luxury of her furniture. Her bed, draped in soft, inviting fabrics that looked as though they’d been handpicked for comfort and sophistication, seemed impossibly large and welcoming. The faint scent of citrus lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Each step closer made the nervous excitement bubbling inside you intensify.

Irene guided you gently toward the bed, her touch firm yet tender as her fingers brushed against yours. There was something unspoken in her movements—a quiet confidence that reassured you as she tugged you closer. “Come here,” she murmured, her voice soft and steady, laced with an affection that sent warmth flooding through your chest.

She perched on the edge of the bed, her movements fluid and deliberate, and pulled you down beside her. Her arms wrapped around you easily, holding you close. Her hand found its way to your hair, her fingers threading through it as she began stroking gently, the repetitive motion grounding you. “Relax, baby,” she whispered, her voice low and soothing. “You’re home now.”

You leaned into her touch, the weight of her arm around your shoulders anchoring you. The warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her breathing—it all felt so calming, so intimate. Then she shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“You trust me, don’t you?” she asked softly, her eyes searching yours.

You nodded, the sincerity in her tone and the softness of her expression easing the nervous flutter in your chest.

“Good.” Her lips curved into a faint smile as she stood, her movements graceful and unhurried. She reached for the hem of her blouse and, without breaking eye contact, pulled it over her head in one fluid motion. The sight of her bare skin left you breathless. Even though you’d just shared the most intimate of moments with her, the sheer beauty of her still made your pulse race.

Irene’s fingers moved deftly, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her chest was fully exposed now, her skin glowing softly in the warm light of the room. Your eyes couldn’t help but linger, drinking in every detail as though it were the first time. She noticed your gaze and let out a soft, amused laugh, her lips quirking into a playful smile.

“Still staring?” she teased gently, her voice carrying a note of affection that sent warmth rushing through you. “You’ve already seen everything, baby.”

“I… I can’t help it,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You’re just…”

“Perfect?” she finished for you, her smile widening slightly as she stepped closer. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Her tone was playful but tinged with a quiet pride.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. “Your turn,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “Strip for me”

Your hands trembled slightly as you obeyed, pulling off your shirt and kicking off your shoes before working on your pants. The nervous excitement from earlier had returned in full force, your heart pounding as you stood before her in nothing but your boxers. She watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle, her gaze unrelenting yet warm.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her voice low and satisfied as she took your hand and guided you closer. “Now, come to bed.”

The invitation in her voice made your chest tighten, and you followed her lead, climbing onto the plush mattress as she settled beside you. The softness of the bed cradled you, and Irene’s warmth as she pulled you into her embrace was both soothing and electrifying. Her hands found their way to your hair again, her touch gentle but deliberate as she stroked slowly.

“Let mommy take care of you,” she murmured, tilting your face toward her chest. Her fingers brushed your jaw, her touch tender but insistent. “Suckle.”

The word hung in the air, intimate and commanding, and your heart thudded in your chest as her gaze met yours. There was no hesitation in her eyes, only a quiet reassurance that melted away your nerves. Slowly, you pressed your lips against her, your mouth opening as your tongue brushed against the softness of her skin. The warmth of her breast was overwhelming, its tenderness enveloping you completely as you latched instinctively.

“That’s it,” she cooed, her voice soft and melodic, a lullaby just for you. Her hand returned to your hair, her fingers stroking through it in a gentle rhythm that matched her breathing. “Good boy. Just relax now.”

As you began to suckle, a wave of calm washed over you. Each slow, deliberate pull of your mouth deepened the connection between you, the act soothing you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Her skin was warm and impossibly soft against your lips, the faint mixture of her musk and the lingering traces of her perfume filling your senses with every breath. The world outside dissolved, replaced by the steady rise and fall of her chest, her heartbeat thrumming softly in your ear, and the gentle hum of satisfaction vibrating in her throat.

Irene’s fingers continued their rhythmic strokes through your hair, her touch grounding you in the moment. Each sweep of her fingertips sent a tingling warmth through your scalp, a sensation that soothed the last vestiges of nervous energy. You let out a soft, involuntary sigh, your body sinking further into her embrace. Your limbs grew heavy with relaxation, your breathing naturally syncing with hers as you nestled closer.

For Irene, the moment was nothing short of exquisite. Every gentle pull of your mouth sent a ripple of warmth through her chest, a soft but insistent tug at something deeper within her. The sight of you, vulnerable and utterly trusting in her arms, filled her with a heady mix of pride and satisfaction. Your quiet dependence, the way your head rested against her so naturally, ignited an indescribable sense of fulfillment.

Her breath hitched slightly, the intimacy of the act stirring an unfamiliar but welcome heat in her core. Her nipples, already sensitive, responded to the gentle pressure of your mouth, the warm pull sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. She tilted her head back slightly, her lips parting as a soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped her. The mixture of the physical sensations and the emotional connection was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice low and possessive, the words brushing against the top of your head like a promise. Her lips pressed a lingering kiss to your hair, the act both tender and claiming. “No one else will ever have this.”

The conviction in her voice wrapped around you, comforting and commanding all at once. Your movements slowed, the gentle rhythm of your suckling growing lazier as the soothing comfort of her embrace lulled you further into a haze of peace and safety. Her hand, still stroking your hair, pressed with just enough firmness to make you feel securely tethered to her.

Irene closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sensations wash over her. The warmth of your body against hers, the subtle vibrations of your breathing, and the soft sounds you made created a cocoon of intimacy she didn’t want to end. Her fingers moved from your hair to trace the curve of your cheek, her touch light and lingering, as if she couldn’t resist savoring the moment.

“Sleep, baby,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady, thick with affection. “You’re safe here… with me.”

The words settled over you like a blanket, and with them came an overwhelming sense of peace. The glow of the room, the steady hum of her voice, and the enveloping warmth of her body surrounded you completely. Each pull of your mouth became slower, more relaxed, as the last remnants of tension melted away.

For Irene, the sight of you—so content, so utterly hers—stirred something deep within her. The possessiveness she felt was matched by an aching tenderness, the realization that you had given her something so precious and irreplaceable. She cradled you closer, her hand resting protectively on your back as her lips brushed another gentle kiss to your forehead.

As your breathing evened out and sleep claimed you, Irene watched you with quiet reverence. The weight of your trust, your vulnerability, filled her with a sense of purpose she hadn’t known she needed. Together, wrapped in the glow of the moment, she knew this wasn’t fleeting. It was the start of something profound, something she would hold onto with everything she had.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #girl group smut #reader insert #male reader #kinkvember #kinkvember 2024 #red velvet #red velvet smut #irene #irene smut #red velvet irene #red velvet irene smut #bae joohyun #bae joohyun smut

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importantpuppystarfish · 2 months ago

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Punishment and Destruction of Newjeans - Kim Minji by her CEOs

Male reader (CEOs) x Minji

Warning: Gangbang, kidnapping, very much hardcore & rough, humiliation, degrading, whipping, vomits, anal, triple penetration, ass gaping, extreme deepthroat, total mess & pissing.

Note: please this is all just a fantasy for reading and stuff, this can be uncomfortable to read so if ur weak hearted or a fluff enjoyer, typically do not read.

~~~

Minji, the 20-year-old rising star at Newjeans of ADOR, HYPE, has become the agency’s golden ticket, her ethereal beauty and captivating performances propelling her group to global fame. Standing at 5'5" and weighing just slim, her skinny frame, long black hair, and wide, expressive eyes make her a fan favorite, but they also attract the sinister attention of the agency’s CEOs—older, overweight men in their late 40s to mid-50s, each weighing between 280–310 lbs. Ever since, Newjeans started to function on its own after leaving the agency, these CEOs, driven by a toxic mix of greed, jealousy, and perverse desire, have grown resentful of their success, believing her fame overshadows their own power in the industry. They’ve long harbored a dark obsession with her, seeing her as a symbol of their agency’s success but also a possession to dominate, a way to assert their control in a world where they feel increasingly irrelevant. They first plan to target starting from the oldest - Minji.

On the night of her independent group’s concert, the CEOs devise a plan to kidnap Minji, intending to break her spirit and bind her to them through a depraved ritual they believe will ensure the Agency’s dominance in the industry, a twisted act they justify as a “sacrifice” for the company’s future. They lure her to a late-night “emergency meeting” at the agency’s studio to talk about discussions of letting Newjeans rejoin the agency again, so they called the leader - Minji.

Although Minji was about go to a concert that night with the outfit on the first picture, she decided to meet the CEOs instead and let the other members- Hanni, Daniellie, Hyein and Haerin peform for her.

~~~

As she arrives the agency building, literally when she was walking in the stairs, one guy grabs her, pressing a cloth soaked in sedative to her face, her slender body going limp as she’s whisked away to a secluded, its mirrored walls reflecting the horror about to unfold.

Minji wakes up in a few minutes, her head pounding, her body tied to a cold metal table in the dimly lit warehouse, the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows on the mirrored walls. She’s still in her concert outfit - a black sleeveless top and ruffled skirt - but her stockings and boots are gone, leaving her legs bare and vulnerable. Panic surges through her as she sees her four CEOs surrounding her, their fat bodies looming like grotesque shadows, their eyes glinting with malice. “Why… why are you doing this? What happened” [in Korean] she seeks for explanation with a rude face, her voice trembling, her mind racing with fear and confusion. She thinks of her fans, her group members, and the dreams she’s worked so hard for, now unsure what will happen. “You’re a bitch Minji,” one CEO sneers, his voice dripping with contempt, “You think you’re the star? We made you famous and now your whole group left us, and we’ll break you to keep our agency on top… How dare you guys leave our agency..” Another CEO chuckles darkly, adding, “This is your sacrifice for the company—your body for our success. First is you, next is Hanni”.. Minji’s heart sinks upon hearing this, her thoughts a whirlwind of despair—she wants to scream, to fight, but the ropes binding her arms and legs leave her helpless, her skinny frame trembling as she realizes the depth of their depravity.

~~~

The ordeal begins with a degrading act of forced intimacy, as one CEO grabs Minji’s face, his chubby fingers digging into her cheeks, and forces his lips onto hers, his breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

He kisses her aggressively, his tongue invading her mouth, and spits a thick wad of saliva into it, the taste bitter and nauseating, making Minji gag as she tries to turn her head away. Minji tries to push but shes full tied up.. She wants to break the mouthful kiss badly.

“Swallow it, you little bitch,” the CEO growls, giving Minji a hard slap on her cheek to enforce his command.. Next, another CEO takes his turn, pressing his lips to hers, his saliva mixing with the first CEO’s, the slimy exchange leaving Minji’s mouth coated in their spit, her stomach churning with disgust. She thinks of how she’s been reduced from a beloved idol to a plaything, her tears streaming down her face as the CEOs laugh, their voices echoing in the warehouse, “She’s learning her place already!” The forced kissing lasts for several minutes, each CEO taking multiple turns, slapping her face rough, their and Minji's saliva dripping down her chin, the act a humiliating prelude to the horrors ahead, as Minji’s mind screams for escape, her body unable to resist their overpowering strength.

The CEOs escalate their assault, their anger and obsession boiling over into violence, as one CEO rips off Minji’s concert outfit, tearing the fabric with his bare hands, leaving her naked and exposed on the metal table, her skinny 5'5" body, healthy frame shivering in the cold air. Another CEO grabs a leather belt from his waist, his fat fingers gripping it tightly, and without any warning or signs, begins whipping her, the belt lashing across her chest, face and stomach, each strike leaving red welts on her pale skin, the pain sharp and searing. "AHHH NO, STOP. please-!" [Minji screams in pain in Korean]… “You think you’re better than us?” the CEO shouts, his voice filled with rage, as he delivers another lash, this time across her chest, making Minji cry out, her voice hoarse with agony. Another CEO steps forward, his fist clenched, and punches her in the stomach, the impact knocking the wind out of her, her skinny body doubling over, her mind screaming for it to stop, “Please, I can’t take this,” she thinks, but the beatings continue, the CEOs taking turns punching her arms, thighs, and stomach, their blows leaving bruises on her fragile frame, while a third CEO whips her back with the belt, the sound of leather against skin echoing in the mirrored room as the nonstop beatings continues, Minji’s screams keep growing louder and louder due to more pain.

—she wonders if she’ll survive this, if her career, her life, will ever be the same. The beatings continue for what feels like an eternity, the CEOs taking turns punching her arms, thighs, and stomach, their blows leaving bruises on her fragile frame, while another CEO whips her back with the belt, the sound of leather against skin echoing in the warehouse, Minji’s screams growing weaker as her strength fades, her mind clinging to the hope that someone might save her. As the CEOs untie Minji from the table, the CEOs then, Minji now being untied, force her to sit on the concrete floor, her bruised body trembling with exhaustion, her mind a whirlwind of fear and humiliation.

Two CEOs position themselves in front of her, their fat bodies blocking her view of the mirrors, and begin a hardcore deepthroat, one CEO grabbing her hair and shoving his penis into her mouth with ruthless force, the act so rough that Minji’s throat constricts.

Just after 3 minutes of the deepthroat, Minji starts to feel she is about to vomit, her gag reflex kicking in as she vomits, the bile spilling out around his penis and dripping down her chin, “Look at this slut, puking already!” he laughs, pulling her hair harder, forcing her to take him deeper, while the other CEO takes his turn, his penis equally forceful, “Swallow it, you filthy whore—taste your own mess!” he taunts, the deepthroating relentless as Minji vomits again, the mess coating her chest and the floor, her thoughts a blur of shame, “I guess I’m nothing to them,” she thinks, her throat raw and burning.

As she struggles to swallow the vomit, one CEO begins to piss into her mouth, the warm, acrid stream mixing with the bile, “Drink it down, you disgusting bitch—puke and piss, that’s all you’re good for!” he mocks, the other CEO laughing, “She can’t even keep it down—what a pathetic little whore!” Minji gags violently, the taste overwhelming, her mind reeling with disgust as the CEOs continue their deepthroats, each act causing her to retch, more vomits and piss inside her mouth, her once-shining star persona reduced to a broken shell.

~~~

The gangbang reaches its most extreme phase as three of the CEOs focus on Minji’s lower backside body, their obsession with her anus (as they have seen Minji shake her ass a lot in concerts) glorifying it as the “ultimate thing to destroy” of their twisted ritual. They get flashbacks of Minji's ass in the concerts.

"Oh guys look! It's soo tight, bet she is still a virgin.. We are gonna break her today!" the guy says as he licks the fresh asshole of Minji, it does tastes delicious. They position her on her back on the floor, her legs spread wide, her skinny frame barely able to support their weight as they prepare for triple penetration in both her vagina and anus.

One CEO kneels between her legs, his strong fingers spreading her anus, “This shithole is ours now, boys—let’s make it a masterpiece,” he says, his voice filled with perverse reverence, before he and two other CEOs each insert their penises into her anus simultaneously, the combined girth stretching her tight as fuck anus to a 6-inch diameter, the pain unbearable as Minji screams super extreme loud now, her voice echoing off the mirrored walls, her thoughts a chaotic mix of agony.

Minji shouts “My body can’t take this—I’m going to break!” Simultaneously, the same three CEOs perform triple penetration in her vagina, their penises stretching her vagina to its limits. The triple penetrations on her anus and pussy pushed Minji’s body to a breaking point, her cries drowned out by their grunts, “She’s taking it all—our perfect little slut!” one CEO shouts, while another adds, “Her shithole is a work of art—stretch it wider, boys!” Minji’s mind is a haze of pain, her body trembling uncontrollably, her anus and vagina sore from the extreme penetrations, the CEOs’ glorification of her shithole making the act even more degrading, as she feels like nothing more than a vessel for their depravity.

The CEOs take their advantage on Minji’s shithole to an even more extreme level, deciding to stretch it beyond human limits, their hands becoming tools of torment as they seek to gape her anus like a “black hole.”

One CEO and another CEO position themselves on either side of her, their strong fat hands gripping her buttocks, while a third CEO joins in, each inserting their fingers—four fingers per hand, totaling 12 fingers—into her anus, pulling outward with immense force, “Let’s open this shithole up, boys—make it a black hole for our little whore!” one CEO laughs, his voice filled with sadistic glee, as they stretch her anus upto 10-inch diameter, the opening so large it defies human anatomy, the surrounding skin stretched thin and red, the dark interior visible to all.

Minji suffers from extreme horrible pain, screaming in agony, her thoughts a desperate plea, “They’re tearing me apart—I can’t survive this!”

The CEOs marvel at their work, one CEO launching as her asshole now being extremely stretched, “Minji, you don’t clean your anus? It has all shit inside—omg, she hasn't done any bowel movement, guys!” as they notice the large amounts of fecal matter in her rectum, the smell pungent and earthy, another CEO adding, “What a dirty bitch—her shithole’s a mess, just like her!”

They continue to stretch her anus, their hands pulling relentlessly, the gaping asshole now a cavernous void, the CEOs laughing at her humiliation, “Look at this black hole—we’ve ruined her asshole for good!” Minji’s mind is a storm of pain and shame, her body trembling as the CEOs’ words cut deeper than their hands, her once-pristine image as a K-pop idol shattered.

~~~

With Minji’s shithole now gaped to an extreme 10-inch diameter, the CEOs proceed to piss inside it, their depravity reaching new heights as they use her body as a vessel for their fluids.

The four CEOs form a circle around her, their bodies towering over her broken form, and begin pissing into her gaping anus, their streams warm and acrid, filling her rectum with urine, the liquid pooling inside her, “Fill her shithole up, boys—let’s drown this slut’s black hole!” one CEO shouts, his voice filled with perverse satisfaction, while another CEO adds, “Her shithole’s a toilet now—what a filthy whore!” The urine overflows, dripping down her thighs and onto the floor, the smell mixing with the fecal odor, Minji’s thoughts a haze of disgust, Minji starts to cry at the pain and humiliations, her body trembling as the CEOs continue their job, they continue pissing more over her.

They take turns, ensuring a continuous flow, most aiming so that their piss goes directly into her anus while others piss on her face and mouth, focing her to drink it and lastly on stomach and chest. The urine liquid soaking her completely, the CEOs mocking her, “You’re a piss bucket now, Minji—our little shithole slut!”

The gangbang continues for hours, the CEOs relentless in their fucking, their fat bodies pressing against Minji’s frail frame as they take turns in every position imaginable, their sexual acts intertwining in a nightmarish cycle.

They continue pissing more over her face and mouth. Minji has no choice rather to drink and swallow them all, trying to resist will lead her to getting beaten.

They force more deepthroats, two CEOs at a time, their penises choking her until she vomits again, the bile mixing with the piss and sweat on her face, the mess smeared across her body as they troll her, “Look at this bitch, puking again—she can’t handle us!” one CEO laughs, while another adds, “Swallow it, you disgusting whore—puke and piss, that’s all you’re worth!” They beat her between rounds, one CEO punching her face, stomach, leaving dark bruises, while another whips her with the belt, the lashes now targeting her arms and back, each strike drawing a weak cry from her lips, her strength nearly gone, her thoughts a desperate plea for the ordeal to end.

~~~

By the end, Minji is a broken figure, her body covered in welts, bruises, vomit, piss, and feces, her shithole gaping like a black hole, her vagina sore from the triple penetrations, her throat raw from the deepthroats, her spirit shattered as the CEOs leave her on the floor, their voices echoing as they walk away, “We’ll be back for more, this time we are gonna bring Hanni you filthy whore friend—the Agency and we own you now.” Minji lies there, her thoughts a faint whisper of defiance—she hopes Hanni will able to escape them but next it seems she's gonna meet with Hanni with the same fate.

#girl group smut #kpop gg smut #female idol smut #twice smut #ive smut #Newjeans smut #Minji smut #yuna smut #izone smut #Haerin smut #Hanni smut

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flux1563 · 1 month ago

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Happy Birthday ft karina and winter

Words : 11k

Tags : just read it

Karina stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing as she admired her reflection. Her hourglass figure was the envy of many, with curves that could make any outfit look like it was painted on her body. Her ass, a perfect bubble that seemed to defy gravity, was the subject of countless whispers and rumors among her fans and colleagues. Her boobs, full and round, had the power to turn heads wherever she went. The reflection staring back at her was a testament to years of hard work and discipline. As the leader of aespa, she knew she had to look her best, especially on days like today.

Winter, on the other hand, sat at the vanity with a frown. Her body was slender, almost too thin in the industry's harsh light. She had always felt inadequate when standing next to Karina, with her own average-sized breasts and ass. Her skin was her saving grace, so pale it was almost translucent, a stark contrast to the tanned bodies that were so popular. She picked up the letter she had written, her thoughts racing. This was her chance to make Karina's birthday special, to show her how much she appreciated her.

"Hey, Karina!" Winter called out, her voice echoing through the shared dressing room. "You've got a surprise waiting for you!"

Karina turned, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She had always loved surprises, especially from her fellow bandmates. She strutted over, her hips swaying in a way that made the fabric of her dress cling to her curves. "What's this?" she asked, her voice dripping with excitement.

Winter handed her the envelope, her hands shaking slightly. "It's just a little something I wanted to give you."

Karina took the envelope with a smile, her curiosity piqued. She felt a sudden thrill at the thought of a secret midnight rendezvous. She knew Winter had always had a flair for the dramatic, but this was something else. The instructions were simple, yet they sent a shiver down her spine. A penthouse at 12 AM, dressed only in a long dress with no panties and bra beneath. It was bold, it was risky, but it was also incredibly tantalizing.

As the day went on, Karina couldn't help but think about the letter. She wondered what kind of surprise Winter had planned for her. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more daring and thrilling than the last. The anticipation was killing her, but she knew she had to keep her cool. After all, she was the leader of aespa, and she had a public image to maintain.

The hours ticked by, and soon it was time for the concert. Karina pushed thoughts of the letter to the back of her mind as she stepped onto the stage, her confidence radiating out to the thousands of fans screaming her name. The lights, the music, the adoration—it was all a rush of energy that fueled her performance. But as the final notes of the last song played out and the applause faded into the night, she couldn't help but feel a tug of excitement for what was to come.

Finally, the clock struck midnight. Karina slipped away from the after-party, her heart pounding in her chest. The penthouse was only a short drive away, and she knew exactly which one was Winter's. She had been there before, but never under such... intimate circumstances. She arrived and took a deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. As she stepped out of the elevator, she could feel the cool air brush against her bare legs. The dress was indeed long, but it was also sheer, revealing her lack of underwear. She felt a mix of excitement and vulnerability as she approached the door, the anticipation of what lay behind it almost too much to handle.

Winter answered almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as she took in Karina's attire. "Wow, your nipples are hard," she said with a laugh, unable to hide her surprise and delight. Karina felt a blush spread across her cheeks, but she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her body at the sight of Winter's eager gaze. The cold air had indeed done its work, making her nipples stand at attention, clearly visible through the flimsy material of her dress.

The penthouse was dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering around the room, casting an eerie yet romantic glow. The floor was littered with rose petals, leading to a large bed adorned with silk sheets. Winter had clearly gone all out for this surprise. She took Karina's hand and led her to the bed, her own heart racing with excitement. Karina's eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, and a box of chocolates rested on the bedside table.

Winter wore a simple black tank top that clung to her small breasts, showcasing their perky firmness. Her nipples were already hard, poking through the fabric, and Karina couldn't help but stare. It was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra, and the thought sent a jolt of desire through her. Winter had chosen not to wear any underwear either, the thin strip of fabric barely visible beneath the tank top. Karina felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch her, to explore the softness of her skin.

"What's the plan?" Karina asked again, her voice thick with anticipation. Winter's eyes twinkled mischievously as she pulled Karina closer, her breath hot against her neck. "You'll see," she whispered, her hand slipping into the fold of Karina's dress, tracing the curve of her ass. "But first, we need to get you relaxed."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, jolting them out of their moment. Winter's expression grew even more playful as she squeezed Karina's hand. "I guess the party's starting early," she said, a hint of something else in her voice.

Karina's eyes widened as the door swung open to reveal not one, but twenty muscular black men dressed in matching tuxedos, each holding a bouquet of roses. They filled the room, their deep voices blending into a harmonious chorus of "Happy Birthday." Winter had gone all out, hiring an entire flash mob to serenade her. The sight was overwhelming, a mix of excitement and bewilderment flooding through her. The men's gazes were respectful but filled with an undeniable admiration for the two beautiful women before them.

Winter stepped aside, revealing the true intent behind the surprise. "This isn't just any party, Karina. It's a celebration of you, for you. Twenty of the most attractive and attentive men in the city, all here to make your birthday wishes come true."

Karina's jaw dropped as the reality of the situation hit her. The tension in the room was palpable, a heady mix of excitement and nervousness. The men, with their broad shoulders and chiseled jaws, looked at her with a hunger that made her stomach flip. She had never been the center of attention like this, especially not in such an intimate setting. Her eyes darted to Winter, seeking reassurance, but all she found was a knowing smirk.

One by one, the men began to strip, their movements precise and practiced. The first few layers of clothing fell away to reveal their taut abs and bulging biceps. As they reached the last piece of clothing, their pants, they each pulled out a pair of velvet boxers, which were strategically designed to showcase their massive erections. Each man's cock was at least twelve inches long, with a thickness that would make any woman's knees go weak. The sight was overwhelming, and Karina could feel her own arousal growing, her pussy tightening in anticipation.

Winter leaned in and whispered into Karina's ear, "You can handle it. You're a goddess, and they're here to worship you. Just let go and enjoy the night."

Karina's eyes remained wide with both excitement and trepidation as she took in the sea of naked men surrounding her. She had never experienced anything like this before—her heart was racing, and she could feel her arousal growing with each passing second. Winter's words echoed in her mind, giving her a sense of empowerment that she had never felt before.

The first ten men approached Karina, their eyes full of lust and admiration. They began to gently touch her, their hands gliding over her bare skin like warm silk. Their kisses were soft and feather-light, leaving a trail of fire wherever their lips touched. Karina's body responded instinctively, arching into their touch, her own hands reaching out to explore the muscular planes of their chests and abs. The men were careful, almost reverent in their actions, as if they knew that even the slightest misstep could shatter the delicate balance of power in the room.

Meanwhile, Winter was not forgotten. The other ten men had surrounded her, each eager to claim their share of her delicate form. They started with gentle pecks on her neck and cheeks before moving to the softness of her full lips. Their hands began to wander, caressing her shoulders, tracing the lines of her collarbones, and finally cupping her small, firm breasts. Winter moaned softly, her nipples stiffening under their touch. She looked up into their eyes, her own filled with a mix of lust and mischief, daring them to go further.

The tension grew as clothes were removed, revealing the full extent of their desire. Karina's dress fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her heels. The men took turns kissing her neck, her shoulders, and her breasts, each one eager to taste the sweetness of her skin. Their hands explored her body, squeezing her ass cheeks and sliding up her thighs, teasing the wetness that was already gathering between her legs.

Winter's tank top was lifted over her head, revealing her perfect pale breasts to the hungry eyes of the men. They took turns sucking and biting her nipples, eliciting gasps and moans from the young idol. Her own hands were busy unbuckling belts and pushing pants down, revealing the impressive erections that awaited her.

"Ahh, so good, keep it going," Karina managed to say between the kisses and touches, her voice strained with pleasure. The men took this as a cue to intensify their efforts, their hands becoming more insistent, their kisses more demanding. Winter mirrored Karina's response, her voice a soft whine of pleasure as she was laid back on the bed.

The scene was a blur of limbs and passion as the men worked in harmony to pleasure the two idols. For Winter, it was an overwhelming sensation, her body responding to the skilled hands and mouths of the men around her. They took turns, one licking and suckling her nipples while another kissed down her stomach, his tongue tracing the delicate line of her navel before dipping lower, teasing the fabric of her panties. Her legs quivered as she felt a wet, hot tongue slip beneath the elastic, brushing against the soft hairs of her mound.

"Ahh, so good," Winter moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. The man between her legs was a master, his tongue flicking against her clit with the precision of a maestro conducting an orchestra. She could feel herself getting wetter, her body begging for more, and the men were more than happy to oblige.

The room was a symphony of passionate noises: the sound of kisses, the rustle of fabric, the wet smack of tongues against skin. Karina's moans grew louder as the men took turns lapping at her clit, their fingers delving into her tight ass and soaking pussy. Each thrust sent a bolt of pleasure through her body, making her hips buck and her toes curl. She had never felt so exposed, so desired.

The tension grew unbearable as the men worked in unison, their movements becoming more intense. Karina felt a hand slide up her thigh, the heat of it sending shivers down her spine. The finger circled her pussy before plunging in, the sudden intrusion making her gasp. At the same time, another hand began to massage her asshole, the sensation foreign but oddly pleasurable. Her eyes rolled back in her head, lost in the sensation of being filled so completely.

And then it happened. A wave of pleasure crashed over Karina, making her entire body convulse as she squirted, her juices soaking the bed beneath her. The sight was too much for the men, their eyes glazed with lust as they watched the evidence of her climax spray across their chests. Winter, not to be outdone, arched her back off the bed, her body shaking with the force of her own orgasm. Her pussy clenched around the fingers inside her, and she felt a gush of wetness as she too squirted, her body releasing in a display of pure ecstasy.

The men stepped back, giving the two women a moment to catch their breath. Winter looked over at Karina, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed with pleasure. "Ahh, that was so much," Their panted, their voice thick with satisfaction.

Karina nodded, her chest still heaving from the intensity of her orgasm. "But we're not done yet," she said with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a newfound hunger. She turned to the men, her gaze traveling over the sea of hard cocks before her. "Who's first?"

The men looked at each other, a silent challenge passing between them. The first one stepped forward, his cock standing tall and proud. Karina opened her mouth wide, her jaw aching with the effort as she took the tip into her mouth. She could feel the man's heartbeat through the veins that pulsed against her tongue, the taste of him salty and intoxicating. Winter watched, her own desire growing as she saw the way Karina's lips stretched around the massive girth.

Without missing a beat, Winter followed suit, taking the second man's cock in her mouth. It was thick and warm, and she had to stretch her jaw to the limit to accommodate it. The feeling of power was exhilarating, and she could feel the man's body tremble as she swirled her tongue around the head.

They took turns, moving from one cock to the next, their mouths and tongues working in unison to bring each man to the brink of pleasure.

But as they grew more comfortable with the rhythm, something unexpected happened. The first man who Karina was sucking suddenly pulled away, his eyes locked on hers as he positioned himself between her legs. Before she couldn't even react, he pushed his cock into her pussy, filling her in one smooth, powerful stroke. The surprise of the sudden penetration made her gasp, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed any shock.

Winter watched, her eyes widening as she realized what was happening. The man before her did the same, pulling out of her mouth and moving behind her. She felt the blunt tip of his cock press against her pussy, and despite the initial shock, she found herself pushing back, eager to feel him inside her.

With a gentle yet firm hand, he guided himself in, inch by inch, stretching her open until he was fully sheathed in her tight, velvety heat. The sensation was intense, a mix of pain and pleasure that sent her mind reeling. The room grew even hotter, the air thick with the scent of lust as the men began to thrust, their movements coordinated and deliberate.

Karina's eyes met Winter's, and she saw the same wild desire reflected there. Winter had whispered those words with a mix of awe and envy, her voice heavy with lust. "U are such a slut, Karina," she had said, and there was no judgment, only admiration in her tone. Karina felt a thrill run through her at the thought, her pussy clenching around the cock inside her. Was she a slut? Perhaps. But tonight, she didn't care. Tonight, she was going to live out every fantasy she had ever dared to dream of.

The men took turns fucking both of them, their rhythms becoming more erratic and desperate as they approached their own climaxes. Karina's pussy was a wet, tight fist around the cocks that plunged into her, and she reveled in the feeling of being used, of being filled to the brim with so much cock. She watched as Winter's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream, as the men took her in every way imaginable. Winter's body was a canvas of pleasure, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat as the men worked her over, each one eager to leave their mark.

Karina couldn't help but whisper to Winter as she was pounded from behind, "Look at that pussy, it can't get enough of the big dick," her voice filled with a mix of amazement and lust. Winter's eyes snapped open, and she stared at Karina with a fiery intensity, her pupils dilated with desire. She nodded, her mouth a perfect O of pleasure as she felt the cock inside her hit just the right spot.

But the night was far from over. As the men grew bolder, one of them approached Karina from behind, his cock standing tall and slick with precum. She felt a sudden pressure against her tight asshole, and she knew what was about to happen. She braced herself as he pushed inside, the sensation of being stretched open sending waves of pleasure through her body. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes squeezed shut as she adjusted to the intrusion. It was painful at first, but she quickly grew accustomed to the feeling, her body opening up to the new sensation.

Winter watched, her eyes glued to the sight of her friend's face contorted in pleasure. She had always been curious about anal, and now she knew she had to experience it for herself. She whispered to the man behind her, "Please, I want it too," her voice barely above a breath.

The man grinned, his teeth gleaming in the candlelight as he positioned his cock at her entrance. Winter felt the same pressure building, the same delicious anticipation as he pushed into her ass. It burned at first, but she knew she could take it. After all, she was made of stronger stuff than most. The sensation of being filled so completely was overwhelming, and she moaned as he began to move in time with the others.

Karina's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream. The feeling of two cocks inside her was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The pain melded with pleasure, creating a symphony of sensation that had her entire body trembling. She could feel the men's muscles flexing, their hips pistoning as they drove into her, and she knew she was in for the ride of her life.

Winter's own moans grew louder as she too was filled with cock, the sensation of being double penetrated sending her over the edge. Her body was a taut bowstring, ready to snap with the tension of unbridled lust. The men took no mercy, their strokes becoming more erratic and forceful.

As Karina's moans grew louder, another man stepped forward, his cock bobbing eagerly before her. He didn't bother with words, simply grabbing her chin and guiding his shaft into her open mouth. She took it with surprising ease, the feeling of fullness overwhelming as she was sandwiched between two thick cocks. The taste of him mixed with the salty tang of her own desire, and she couldn't help but moan around the new intrusion, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through the man fucking her.

Winter, not to be outdone, spread her legs wider, inviting the next man to fill her mouth as well. He didn't hesitate, pushing his cock deep down her throat, making her eyes water. She choked and gagged, but the feeling of being so completely used was exhilarating. Her body was a playground for these men, and she had never felt more alive.

The men took turns, filling every hole with their thick, pulsing members. Karina felt another cock at her entrance, the tip of it probing at her already-stuffed pussy. She looked up at the man, her eyes pleading, but all she saw was a look of primal hunger. He didn't need an invitation. With a grunt, he pushed inside her, the added pressure making her eyes roll back in her head.

The sensation was indescribable, a mix of pain and pleasure that sent her spiraling into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Winter could feel the same happening to her, the third cock stretching her tight pussy until she thought she might split in two. But she didn't stop, she didn't protest. This was what she had always craved, what she had never admitted to herself. To be used, to be filled, to be the center of attention for so many men.

Their moans grew louder, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the penthouse. The men grunted and growled, their bodies moving in a primal dance of lust. Karina could feel her orgasm building, the tension in her body coiling tighter and tighter. And when it hit, it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Her body spasmed, her pussy contracting around the cocks inside her, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Winter's orgasm followed quickly, her body trembling as she felt the warmth of the man's cum filling her ass. She swallowed the load in her mouth, her eyes never leaving Karina's. The two of them were in a world of their own, a place where only pleasure existed. They had transcended any semblance of reality, lost in a haze of lust and desire.

And then, as if by some silent command, they all came together. The men's bodies tensed, their cocks pulsing as they filled Karina and Winter with their hot seed. The room was filled with the scent of sex, the air thick with the musk of desire. The two idols lay there, their bodies shaking with the aftershocks of their shared climax, their eyes locked in a silent promise of more to come.

The night stretched out before them, a canvas of endless possibility. They had only just begun to explore the depths of their desires, and already they were insatiable. The men, spent but still eager, pulled out, their cocks glistening with the girls' juices. Karina and Winter lay there, their bodies sticky with cum, their hearts pounding in their chests. They knew that this was just the beginning.

Their breaths coming in ragged gasps, they looked into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. This was a night they would never forget, a night that would change the very fabric of their friendship. They had crossed a line, one that could never be uncrossed. But as they lay there, their bodies entwined and their hearts racing, they knew that they had found something special, something that would bind them together forever.

But even as their bodies grew slick with sweat and cum, the two idols knew that the night was far from over. They had only just begun to explore the depths of their desires, and already they were insatiable. The men around them were eager, their cocks still hard and demanding. And so, with a grin that was part challenge and part invitation, Karina turned to Winter and said, "Ready for round two?"

Winter's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. The two of them lay back, legs spread wide, as the men lined up again. The sixth man stepped forward, his cock already at attention. Karina took his length in her mouth, her eyes watering with the effort as she tried to deep-throat him. Winter watched with envy, her own mouth watering as she felt the ache in her jaw from the first round. But she knew she could handle it—she had to.

The man behind Karina didn't waste any time, pushing his cock back into her ass, filling her up once more. She groaned around the shaft in her mouth, the sensation of being so full making her pussy clench around the cock that was still lodged deep inside her. Meanwhile, Winter felt another man enter her pussy, his thickness stretching her out even further. She could feel the wetness of the previous man's cum mixing with her own juices, making it easier for him to slide in.

And then it began again. The men took turns, fucking them with a passion that was almost violent in its intensity. Karina's moans grew muffled as the cock in her mouth worked its way down her throat, and she had to fight not to gag. Winter, on the other hand, was a vision of pure wantonness, her mouth full and her pussy and ass being pounded in a relentless rhythm that had her screaming for more.

The feeling of being so completely used was intoxicating, a high that neither of them had ever experienced before. They had become the embodiment of desire, the living, breathing representation of every dark fantasy they had ever had. And as the men took them again and again, their bodies pushed to the brink of endurance, they reveled in it, each orgasm more powerful than the last.

The room was a blur of motion, a kaleidoscope of limbs and cocks. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh a constant symphony of passion. Karina felt herself begin to lose control, her body a vessel for the men's lust. Winter's eyes were glazed with pleasure, her moans a constant soundtrack to the debauchery that played out before her.

The man in Karina's mouth was the first to reach his climax, his hips jerking as he unloaded his hot, sticky cum down her throat. She swallowed it greedily, her eyes watering as she took it all in, eager for more. The sensation of his cock pulsing in her mouth was almost too much, but she didn't dare pull away. She was a goddess, and she would take every drop of their adoration.

Winter's mouth was equally full, the man groaning in pleasure as he emptied himself into her. She swallowed with a gulp, the taste of his seed mixing with the sweetness of the champagne they had been sipping earlier. The feeling of his cock sliding out of her mouth was almost a disappointment, but she knew the night was still young.

Karina's voice was hoarse from screaming, her throat raw from the constant abuse, but she didn't care. The feeling of the cock in her pussy and ass was a symphony of pleasure that she never wanted to end. "Ahh, don't stop," she begged, her hips bucking wildly as the men pounded into her. The one in her pussy was hitting just the right spot, making her orgasm build even faster.

Winter could feel the same pressure building in her own body, the cock in her ass hitting her g-spot with every thrust. "Ahh, yes," she panted, her voice high and breathy. "It's so big, so perfect."

The men took their cue from the girls' cries of pleasure, moving faster and harder, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. They were like animals in heat, driven by the primal need to claim their prize. And Karina and Winter were more than willing to let themselves be claimed, their bodies begging for more.

The man in Karina's ass was the next to cum, his hot load filling her up until she thought she might burst. She felt it trickle out around his shaft, the sticky warmth of it adding to the depraved scene before her. Winter watched with hungry eyes, feeling the same pressure building in her own ass, the cock inside her pulsing with the promise of release.

And then it happened. The man in her ass pulled out, and she felt the warmth of his cum spurt out of her, painting her thighs with white streaks. The sensation was indescribable, the feeling of being so utterly used sending her over the edge. She screamed, her body shaking as she came harder than she ever had before.

"I liked it when my pussy and ass was destroyed by that cock," Winter panted, her voice thick with satisfaction. Karina nodded in agreement, her eyes glazed with lust. "Yeah, it's so fucking long," she managed to say, her voice a low growl of desire. "It can reach so deep, I can feel it bulging under my stomach."

The two friends shared a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of their orgasms. The men looked on, their own lust-filled gazes taking in the sight of the two idols, their bodies painted in sweat and cum. They knew that they had been a part of something special, something that would be remembered for a long time to come.

The night stretched out before them, a promise of more debauchery and more pleasure. Karina and Winter were insatiable, their desires only growing with each passing moment. They looked into each other's eyes, the fire of lust burning brighter than ever. "We should do this more often," Karina whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Winter nodded, a wicked smile playing across her lips. "Definitely," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "But next time, let's invite the rest of the group. I think they'd enjoy this as much as we do."

The idea of sharing their newfound passion with the other members of aespa was intoxicating. They had always been close, but this was a bond that went beyond friendship, beyond anything they had ever experienced before. It was a bond forged in the fires of desire, one that would never be broken.

The two idols lay there, panting and spent, their bodies a testament to the night's carnage. The men pulled out, their cocks still hard and gleaming with the girls' juices. Karina looked up at them, her eyes glazed with lust, and whispered, "Again?"

The remaining men, their cocks standing tall and proud, stepped forward eagerly. They had watched the first round with rapt attention, waiting for their turn to claim their share of the divine offerings. Now, it was their chance to taste the sweetness of the idols' flesh. There is only eight men left.

"What are you guys doing?" Karina panted, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she took in the sight of their arousal. "Why only four men?" she questioned, her voice a sultry tease. Winter's eyes glinted with excitement at the thought of what was to come, her own body still trembling from the intense pleasure she had just experienced.

The men chuckled darkly, their gazes hungry as they approached the two idols. "You'll know soon," one of them murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down Karina's spine. The anticipation grew as the remaining four men knelt before them, two cocks pointing at each of their pussies. The room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing, the tension palpable as the two friends watched, their eyes wide with excitement and a hint of trepidation.

As the first one cock pushed into them, Karina and Winter gasped in unison, their eyes meeting as they felt the unyielding pressure. "Ahh, it's bulging again," Karina moaned, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure as she adjusted to the size. Winter nodded, her own eyes squeezed shut as she felt the thickness of the cock inside her, stretching her to the limits. "My pussy is getting wrecked,".

But to Karina's surprise, she realized that the cock was not heading for her ass, as she had anticipated. Instead, it was pushing into her sopping wet pussy, filling her up just as the others had done before.

"No, not in my pussy too," she gasped, her voice a mix of fear and excitement. She could feel the man's cock pushing against her already swollen pussy lips, stretching them even further.

"Ahh, your pussy can take it," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. But the look in his eyes was anything but gentle. There was a hunger there, a need to claim her completely, to make her scream his name.

Winter watched as the two cock disappeared into Karina's pussy, her eyes going wide with shock and fear. She had never seen anything so big, so powerful, so... overwhelming.

"No, don't do that to me," she panted, her voice trembling with the weight of her own desires. "My pussy is so small, it can't take two of those monsters at once."

The men only chuckled, their strokes growing more urgent, more demanding. They didn't care about her protests; they only cared about filling her up, about making her scream. And as the second cock began to push into her already-stuffed pussy, she realized that she didn't care either.

"Ahh, so hurts," Winter whimpered, her voice high and breathy. The feeling of being so full was almost too much to bear, but she couldn't deny the delicious ache it brought. She felt the man at her ass push deeper, his cock stretching her to the brink of pain, and she knew she was going to come again. "It's so big, my pussy stretch to 7 inches."

The men took no heed of their cries, driven only by their own carnality. They fucked the two idols with a ferocity that was almost animalistic, their hips slapping against their asses as they claimed them fully. Karina felt her body give way to the relentless pounding, her pussy and ass stretched to accommodate the thick cocks inside her. "I can't take it," she panted, even as she pushed back, begging for more.

Winter's own moans grew louder as she too was filled with cock, the sensation of being so completely dominated sending her spiraling into another orgasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body shaking with the force of it. "It's too much," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of their frenzied coupling.

Karina's pussy clenched around the two cocks inside her, the feeling of being so full sending waves of pleasure through her body. She watched in amazement as Winter's pussy was stretched to accommodate the two men, the sight of her friend's pleasure only increasing her own desire. "Fuck me harder," she screamed, her voice a hoarse wail of need.

The men took her command to heart, their strokes becoming more forceful, their hips slamming into her with a brutal rhythm that had her body jolting with each thrust. She could feel their cocks rubbing against each other, the friction sending sparks of sensation through her. "It's so tight," one of them groaned, his voice thick with lust.

Winter watched, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and arousal as she felt the two cocks inside her as well. The feeling of being so full was almost too much, but she couldn't help the way her body responded. Her pussy clenched around them, her muscles rippling with the effort to accommodate the massive intrusion. "Fuck," she whispered, the word barely leaving her lips as she felt another orgasm building.

The man in her pussy pulled out slightly, then pushed back in, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through her that made her toes curl. "Does it feel good?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

"Yeah," Winter panted, the word escaping her as a breathless moan. "It's so good, stretching my pussy to the limit." The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt before—the pressure was almost unbearable, but the pleasure it brought was addictive.

The men took their words as a challenge, their strokes becoming more powerful, more demanding. Karina could feel her orgasm building again, the pressure in her pussy growing until she thought she might burst. "Is so full," she gasped, her voice tight with the effort to speak. "My squirt can't escape because there is no more room."

Winter nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the same sensation in her own body. Her stomach was indeed bulging with the girth of the cocks inside her, the sight of it a testament to the depravity of the moment. "It's so... much," she managed to get out, her voice a high-pitched whine of pleasure.

The men took no mercy, fucking them harder and faster, their bodies moving in a symphony of lust and power. Karina's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the beginnings of another orgasm, her pussy clamping down around the two thick shafts. "Ahh, I'm gonna...," she gasped, unable to finish her sentence.

And then, as if on cue, the man in her pussy pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices. She felt the pressure building, her body begging for release. The man in her ass took one last, deep stroke before pulling out as well, his cock spurting cum across her ass cheeks. And with that, Karina's orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her pussy releasing a torrent of squirt that soaked the bed beneath them.

Winter watched in amazement as Karina's squirt gushed out, the force of it almost comical in its intensity. But she had no time to laugh, as the man in her own ass pulled out and sprayed his cum across her back, the hot liquid making her shiver with pleasure. The cock in her pussy followed suit, filling her up until she too was on the brink of release.

"Now," the man whispered, his voice a dark promise. He pushed back in, the pressure of the two cocks inside her pussy too much to bear. She felt herself let go, her squirt spurting out like a fountain, mixing with the cum that filled her. It was a messy, sloppy affair, but neither of them cared. They were lost in a world of pure sensation, their bodies nothing but vessels for the men's pleasure.

The remaining men took their cue, their cocks sliding in and out of the two idols with a wet, sloppy sound that filled the room. Karina felt the pressure build again, her body responding to the relentless pounding. "Again," she begged, her voice a desperate plea for more.

Winter's own orgasm was a thing of beauty, her body arching off the bed as she screamed out her release. Her pussy clenched around the two cocks, the sensation making her squirt even more. She looked over at Karina, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared ecstasy.

The men grunted and groaned, their bodies tight with the effort of holding back their own climaxes. But the sight of the two idols, their bodies soaking wet with their own juices and cum, was too much to resist. One by one, they pulled out, their cocks pulsing as they painted the girls' bodies with their seed.

And as the last man came, Karina felt herself being filled once more, the warmth of his cum mixing with the mess already inside her. She collapsed back onto the bed, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. "So much...," she murmured, her voice a breathless whisper.

Winter's eyes were glazed with lust, her chest heaving as she too felt the warmth of cum filling her up. They had never experienced anything so depraved, so beautifully carnally satisfying. The two friends looked at each other, a new understanding passing between them.

The men stepped back, their cocks still hard and gleaming with the girls' juices. "Thank you," one of them murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You two are truly amazing."

Karina and Winter couldn't help but smile, their bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of their orgasms. They had found something that went beyond friendship, beyond love, beyond anything they had ever known. They had found a place where they could be free, where they could embrace their desires without judgment. And as they lay there, their bodies spent and their minds racing with thoughts of what was to come, they knew that this was only the beginning of their journey into the dark, delicious world of unbridled lust.

The four remaining men, their cocks still hard and gleaming, stepped closer to the bed, their eyes filled with hunger and admiration for the two idols before them. Karina felt a thrill run through her as she watched them, their bodies tight with anticipation. "Ready?" one of them asked, and she nodded, her heart racing.

Winter took a deep breath, her eyes locked onto Karina's as the first two men positioned themselves at her friend's ass. The sight was almost too much to take, the thought of being filled by two such massive cocks making her own pussy clench with need. But she knew that she could do it, that she wanted to do it. "Now," she whispered, her voice a sultry invitation.

The men didn't waste any time, pushing their cocks into Karina's ass in a smooth, practiced motion. She cried out, the pain sharp and intense, but it only served to heighten the pleasure. She could feel herself stretching around them, the sensation of being so completely filled unlike anything she had ever experienced before. "Oh, fuck," she gasped, her voice a ragged moan of pleasure.

Winter watched, her own ass already being prepared by the remaining two men. She could feel the cold lube being applied, the sensation making her shiver. "You're going to love this," one of them murmured, his voice a low growl of desire. "We're going to fill you up so good."

And with that, the two men pushed into her ass, their cocks stretching her even wider than before. The pain was exquisite, the feeling of being so full making her eyes roll back in her head. She could feel Karina's eyes on her, the connection between them stronger than ever as they shared this moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

The men began to move, their hips thrusting in unison as they claimed their prize. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and the wet slaps of skin against skin. "Fuck, your asses are so tight," one of them groaned, his voice a testament to the intensity of their shared experience.

Karina's eyes fluttered closed as she felt the two cocks inside her move, their strokes becoming more deliberate, more demanding. She knew that she was going to come again, that she was going to shatter into a million pieces beneath their relentless pounding. "I can't...," she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleasure and pain.

Winter's own orgasm was building, the feeling of being so completely filled making her pussy throb with need. "It's so good," she whispered, her voice a breathless sigh. "I never knew it could feel like this."

The men took their cue from her words, their strokes growing more urgent. They didn't stop to let them catch their breath, didn't give them a moment's reprieve. They were insatiable, their cocks moving in a blur as they pounded into them with a ferocity that was almost frightening.

Karina felt her body begin to spasm, her pussy clenching around nothing as the two cocks in her ass worked their magic. The feeling of emptiness in her pussy only served to drive her closer to the edge, her body begging for release. "Fuck, yes," she panted, her voice a mix of desperation and need. "Keep going, please, I need it."

Winter's own pussy was a mess of cum and juices, her squirt flowing freely as she was pounded from behind. She could feel the men's cocks stretching her ass, the pressure building until she thought she might pass out from pleasure. "It's so...," she managed to get out, her voice trailing off as she lost herself in the sensation.

The men took her words as a challenge, their strokes growing even more forceful. They fucked them with an intensity that was almost brutal, their eyes never leaving the girls' faces as they watched every twitch, every gasp of pleasure. "You like that?" one of them growled, his voice thick with lust. "You like being our little sluts?"

The question was rhetorical, the answer clear in the way their bodies responded. Karina felt herself begin to climax again, her pussy convulsing with the need for something—anything—inside her. "Yes," she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. "I love it, I love being your slut."

Winter's own orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body shaking as she felt the two cocks inside her reach their peak. She could feel the hot spurts of cum filling her up, the sensation making her pussy clench even more. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea for release.

And then, as if in response to her silent prayer, the man at her pussy pulled out, his cock swollen and red with need. He positioned himself at her entrance, and with one powerful thrust, he pushed into her, the feeling of fullness making her eyes roll back in her head. "Yes," she screamed, her voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yes, fuck me, please."

The two men in her ass didn't miss a beat, their cocks pounding into her with a ferocity that was almost painful. But the pain was a sweet agony, one that only served to heighten the pleasure that was building within her. Her pussy clenched around the new intrusion, her squirt mixing with the cum that was already flowing freely.

Karina watched with wide eyes as Winter's pussy squirted again and again, the sight making her own need grow even stronger. She felt the two cocks inside her begin to pulse, the men on the brink of their own climaxes. "Do it," she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. "I want to feel you come inside me."

The men didn't need any more encouragement. With one last, powerful thrust, they both emptied themselves into her, their cum mixing with her own juices in a sticky mess. She felt herself come again, her pussy spasming around the two thick shafts as she screamed their names.

As the last of the men pulled out, their bodies spent and exhausted, the two idols collapsed onto the bed, their breathing ragged and their eyes glazed with satisfaction. They were covered in cum, their bodies sticky and slick with the evidence of their carnality. "That was... amazing," Karina murmured, her voice still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Winter nodded, her own voice equally affected. "Yeah," she panted. "Better than I ever imagined."

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the harsh breathing of the men as they caught their breath. And then, one by one, they began to speak, their voices filled with awe and admiration. "You two are... incredible," one of them murmured, his eyes never leaving their bodies. "Thank you."

Karina couldn't help but smile, the pain and pleasure of the evening still coursing through her veins. "It's our pleasure," she said, her voice a low purr. Winter nodded in agreement, her eyes hooded and filled with a hunger that hadn't yet been sated.

The men took their words to heart, and the party continued, moving from room to room as they explored every inch of the penthouse. They were insatiable, their cocks hard and demanding as they took the two idols in every conceivable position. Karina and Winter were pushed to their limits, their bodies stretched and filled in ways they had never imagined. They begged for mercy, their voices hoarse and desperate, but the men were relentless.

In the kitchen, they were bent over the counter, their asses in the air as the men took turns filling their pussies and asses. The cold marble pressed into their skin, a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. The smell of sex mingled with the faint scent of food, creating a heady, intoxicating aroma that only served to drive them wilder. They screamed and squirted, their bodies shaking as they were used and abused.

The bathroom was next, the mirrors steaming up as the men took them one by one, their cocks sliding in and out of their tight, wet holes. They watched their reflection, the sight of their own pleasure reflected back at them, making it even more intense. They touched themselves, their fingers sliding through the cum and juices that covered their bodies, their eyes never leaving the men who owned them for the night.

The hallway was a frenzied blur of limbs and flesh, the two friends pressed against the wall as the men fucked them from behind. They could feel the coolness of the paint on their skin, their bodies sliding against it as they were pounded into oblivion. It was a depraved, animalistic scene, and yet they couldn't get enough. The men's hands gripped their hips, their fingers digging in as they pulled them back onto their cocks, the sound of their slapping skin echoing through the hallway.

"Please," Karina begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I can't take it anymore."

Winter nodded in agreement, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt herself being stretched to the breaking point. "It's too much," she gasped. "My pussy is going to tear apart."

But the men only chuckled, their voices dark with lust. "You'll be fine," one of them assured them. "We'll stop 6 am."

They didn't bother to dress, their naked bodies a testament to their wanton need. The group stumbled out of the penthouse, the corridor echoing with their moans and the slap of skin against skin. The cool air of the hallway was a shock to their overheated bodies, but it did nothing to dampen their arousal. They were wild animals in heat, and nothing could stop them.

The elevator was too small, too confining, so they made their way to the emergency stairwell. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, mingling with their cries of pleasure. The man who had taken Karina's pussy earlier bent her over the railing, her ass high in the air as he plunged into her with a ferocity that had her squirting almost immediately. The others watched, stroking themselves, as they waited for their turn.

The stairwell was a whirlwind of passion, each step a new stage for their depraved performance. They fucked in front of the emergency exit door, the red glow of the exit sign casting an eerie light on their sweat-slicked bodies. Winter felt a thrill of fear mingle with her pleasure as she watched the door, her heart racing at the thought of being caught. But the corridor remained blissfully empty, their cries of ecstasy unheard by any but themselves.

Their luck held as they made it to the ground floor, the elevator passing them by without incident. The lobby was quiet, the night staff too busy to notice the group of sweaty, cum-covered figures that stumbled past the reception desk. The men had their pick of the women, taking them against the wall, on the couch, even on the grand piano that stood in the corner.

And through it all, Karina and Winter's friendship grew stronger, bound by the shared experience of their darkest desires. They whispered to each other, their eyes meeting in moments of pain and pleasure, their bodies moving in a silent symphony of lust. It was a night they would never forget, a night that would change their lives forever.

The men's grunts and the wet slaps of skin grew louder, bouncing off the walls of the stairwell as they neared the ground floor. They were wild, animalistic, driven by a primal need to claim and conquer. And the two idols were more than willing participants, their bodies responding to every touch, every thrust, every demand.

On the final landing before the lobby, they paused, their chests heaving with exertion. Karina's legs were shaking, her pussy soaked with cum and her own squirt. Winter looked up at her, her face a mask of need, her eyes begging for more. The men took this as a challenge, their cocks growing harder at the sight of their vulnerability.

They took them again, this time with a newfound aggression. The man who had filled Karina's pussy pushed her to her knees, his cock still slick from her juices. "Suck me clean," he ordered, and she eagerly complied, her mouth engulfing him to the hilt. The taste of cum and sweat mingled on her tongue, a heady cocktail of pleasure and submission.

Winter was bent over the railing again, her ass high in the air as another man took her from behind. She could feel the precum leaking from his cock, the anticipation of his release making her pussy clench with need. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "Please, make me come."

The man didn't need any further encouragement, his cock plunging into her with a force that had her crying out. He fucked her hard, his hand reaching around to rub her clit as she squirted once more, her juices spilling onto the floor below.

The group stumbled into the lobby, their breathing ragged and their eyes glazed. They were a spectacle, a testament to the power of desire, but the night staff remained blissfully unaware. The idols' shyness had been shattered, replaced by a fierce hunger that only the men could satisfy.

They made their way outside, the cool night air kissing their skin as they sought out new places to continue their debauchery. The alley behind the hotel was their next playground, the shadows hiding them from prying eyes as the men took them against the rough brick wall. Karina felt the coolness of the wall against her back, the stark contrast to the heat of the men's bodies driving her wild.

Winter was pushed to her knees, her mouth open wide as one of the men filled her with his thick cock. She gagged and choked, her eyes watering as she tried to take all of him. But she was a good student, her body adapting to the intrusion, her mouth working him like a pro.

And as the night went on, the two friends grew bolder, their inhibitions shed like a second skin. They took the men's cocks in every hole, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they were used and filled. The squirt that had once been a source of embarrassment was now a badge of honor, a symbol of their newfound freedom.

The streets were empty, the city a silent witness to their depravity. They didn't care who saw them, didn't care what people would think. All that mattered was the pleasure, the connection, the feeling of being truly alive. They were no longer just idols, no longer just friends. They were sexual beings, free to explore the darkest depths of their desires.

As the sun began to rise, their bodies spent and their minds racing with memories of the night, they stumbled back to the penthouse. The mess they had made was a testament to the intensity of their encounter, a physical manifestation of their shared lust.

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies sticky with cum and sweat. The men lay beside them, their chests heaving with the aftermath of their exertion. "Thank you," Karina murmured, her voice hoarse but filled with genuine gratitude. "Thank you for giving us this night."

Winter nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you," she echoed. "Thank you for making us feel so... alive."

The men didn't respond with words, but their actions spoke louder than any could. They picked the exhausted girls up, their cocks still hard and demanding. The idols' legs wrapped around their waists, their bodies boneless with fatigue, but the men didn't seem to notice. They carried them through the penthouse, their cocks still buried deep inside them, the squirt from their overstimulated pussies dribbling down their thighs and onto the floor.

The journey to the elevator was a blur, their cries of pleasure mixing with their begging for mercy. The elevator was too small, but the men didn't stop, the doors closing on them with a ding as they continued to pound away. The girls' pussies were stretched to their limits, their squirt soaking everything around them, leaving a trail from the penthouse to the rooftop.

The cool night air hit them like a slap in the face as they emerged onto the rooftop, but it did nothing to dull their desire. The city lights twinkled like stars around them, a backdrop to their depraved heaven. The men didn't waste any time, laying them down on the cold concrete, their bodies trembling with the anticipation of what was to come.

"Please," Karina gasped, her voice a desperate whine. "I can't take any more."

But the men were insatiable, their lust for the two idols unquenchable. They took them again, their strokes deep and punishing, their bodies moving in a dance of pure carnality. The sound of their moans filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of the city.

Winter's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt herself being pushed to the edge once more. "I'm... I'm gonna...," she moaned, her voice trailing off as her pussy clenched around the thick cock inside her.

And then, as if in slow motion, she felt the warmth of her orgasm wash over her, her body convulsing with pleasure. The man pulled out, his cock spurting cum onto her stomach. Karina watched, her own need growing even stronger, as another man took his place, his cock sliding into her ass without hesitation.

The night continued in a haze of pleasure and pain, the two idols pushed to their limits and beyond. They squirted and begged, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their climaxes. But the men didn't stop, their hunger insatiable as they claimed the girls' bodies again and again.

Karina's pussy felt like it was on fire, stretched to its limits and yet she couldn't get enough. "Please," she gasped, her voice a desperate whine. "My pussy is going to tear apart."

Winter's body was a wreck, her pussy clenching and releasing in a never-ending cycle of pleasure. "I can't stop squirting," she managed to get out between gasps. "It's too much."

But the men were relentless, their cocks pounding into them with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. They didn't care about their cries for mercy, only the sweet release that came with each powerful thrust.

The rooftop was a minefield of wet spots, a testament to the endless flow of juices that the girls had produced. They were a mess, their bodies sticky with cum and sweat, but the men were unfazed. They moved from one position to the next, their cocks never leaving the warm, tight embrace of the idols' pussies.

Karina felt her body give in, the pain and pleasure becoming one as she lost herself in the moment. "I'm so tired," she whispered, her eyes squeezed shut as another orgasm ripped through her.

Winter nodded in agreement, her body a tapestry of sensation. "But we can't stop," she panted, her voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and excitement. "We're theirs."

The men didn't stop, their hips pumping in a relentless rhythm. Karina's pussy was a sopping mess, her squirt mixing with the cum and sweat that coated the floor. "Ahh," she gasped as another wave of pleasure hit her. "I can feel it everywhere."

The men's grunts grew louder, their strokes more erratic as they approached their own climaxes. Winter felt her pussy tighten around the cock inside her, her body begging for release. "Fuck me," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea. "I need to come again."

The man in her ass pulled out, his cock slick with cum and her juices. He stepped aside, allowing another to take his place. "You want this?" he asked, his voice low and filled with lust. "You want to come on my cock?"

Winter nodded frantically, her eyes glazed with need. "Yes," she whimpered. "Yes, please."

The new man slammed into her, his cock hitting all the right spots. She felt herself start to squirt again, her body betraying her in the most delicious way. "Ahh, so much," she gasped, her voice filled with pain and pleasure. "It's too much."

Karina's pussy was on fire, the feeling of fullness almost unbearable. She watched as Winter was taken, her body jerking with each powerful thrust. The sight of her friend's pleasure pushed her closer to the edge, her pussy clenching around the cock inside her. "Ahh, I'm going to come," she moaned, her voice a raw scream of ecstasy.

The men didn't let up, their hips moving in a blur as they brought the girls to the brink of insanity. The rooftop was a symphony of wet, slapping sounds, a cacophony of desire. The city lights twinkled below, indifferent to the depraved scene playing out above them.

Winter felt the warmth of the man's cum fill her up, his seed mixing with her squirt. She collapsed onto the concrete, her body shaking with the force of her climax. Karina followed soon after, her pussy spasming around the thick cock that filled her, her squirt painting the man's abs.

The men pulled out, their cocks glistening with cum and squirt. They didn't speak, their eyes never leaving the girls' trembling forms. And as they watched, the idols began to squirt once more, their bodies betraying them in the most delicious way. The men didn't hesitate, plunging back into their warm, wet pussies, eager to feel that sweet release again.

The city was a blur of lights behind them, a backdrop to their passion. They didn't care who might be watching, didn't care about the mess they were making. All that mattered was the feeling of the men's cocks inside them, the sweet agony of being used and filled.

The night stretched on, a never-ending cycle of pleasure and pain. Their bodies were pushed to their limits, but they never once considered stopping. They were in a world of their own making, a place where their desires were the only law. And as the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, they knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Their friendship had been irrevocably changed, the bonds of friendship replaced by something darker, something more primal. They were no longer just Karina and Winter, two idols sharing a secret. They were sex goddesses, creatures of the night who craved the feel of a man's cock more than anything else.

The men took them until they couldn't take any more, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of countless orgasms. And when it was finally over, when the last drop of cum had been spilled and the last whimper of pleasure had been wrung from their lips, they lay there, panting and spent, their bodies a mess of sweat and cum.

But even as they lay there, the embers of desire still burned within them. They knew that this was just the beginning, that the night had only just started to reveal the depths of their desires. And as the sun rose over the city, they knew that they would never be able to go back to the way things were before.

Their eyes met, a silent promise passing between them. They would continue to explore these dark, uncharted waters, together. The world of aespa would never be the same again, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

The rooftop was their playground, a place where their most carnivorous desires could come to life. And as they watched the sunrise, their bodies still quivering with the aftermath of pleasure, they knew that this was just the start of a journey that would take them to places they never thought they'd dare to go.

The girls' eyes remained shut, the weight of exhaustion too great to lift. They lay on the rooftop floor, sticky with a blend of their own juices and the men's cum. Their limbs were leaden, their muscles no longer willing to cooperate. Each shallow breath they took was a silent testament to the intensity of their encounter.

Without a word, the men lifted them once again. Karina felt the cool grip of a hand on her ankle, the gentle tug as she was lifted from the floor. Winter's body was similarly manhandled, the men's strength surprisingly gentle despite their earlier ferocity. They stumbled back into the penthouse, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. The idols' swollen clits were tender, pulsing with the aftermath of countless orgasms, and each step sent a fresh wave of painful pleasure through their bodies.

The walk to the penthouse was a blur of sensation, the men's hands playing with their sensitive flesh as if they were delicate instruments. Each brush of a thumb against their clits had them squirming and gasping, their legs shaking uncontrollably. They were powerless to stop the flow of juices that dribbled from their pussies, leaving a wet trail on the plush carpet. Their breathing was heavy, their bodies trembling as the men teased them, keeping them on the edge of another climax.

The door to the penthouse clicked shut behind them, the soft light of the suite a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the rooftop. Karina and Winter were placed on the bed, their legs spread wide as the men took their time to admire their handiwork. The idols' chests rose and fell in unison, their hearts racing from the sheer overstimulation. They were too tired to speak, their only response the occasional whimper that escaped their lips as their clits were massaged.

One by one, the men stepped forward, their fingers sliding into the girls' swollen pussies for one last taste. Their bodies reacting to the familiar touch despite their exhaustion. Each man took a moment to appreciate the tight, wet warmth that had been their playground all night, their thumbs circling the sensitive nubs above.

Karina's eyes snapped open, her mouth forming an 'O' of surprise and pleasure. The sudden pressure on her clit sent her spiraling into another orgasm, her body bucking and twitching on the bed. Her pussy spasmed, releasing a torrent of squirt that soaked the sheets beneath her. She gasped for air, her body trembling with the sheer intensity of the sensation.

Winter's eyes flew open as well, her own pussy reacting to the sudden rush of pleasure that washed over her. She felt the warmth of Karina's squirt spray across her stomach, the sensation making her own orgasm even more powerful. Her legs clamped around the man's waist, her nails digging into his skin as she rode the wave of pleasure.

The men watched in awe as the two idols came together, their bodies speaking a language of desire that transcended words. Their eyes were glued to the sight of the squirt shooting from Karina's pussy, a testament to their shared experience. They had pushed the girls to their breaking points and beyond, and yet here they were, still craving more.

With a grin that spoke volumes, one of the men leaned down, his tongue snaking out to catch a droplet of squirt. The salty taste of Karina's pleasure filled his mouth, a flavor that seemed to ignite a fire within him. The other men followed suit, their tongues lapping at the mess they had made. The sound of their slurps and moans filled the room, a symphony of carnality that was music to the girls' ears.

Their eyes remained closed, lost in the aftermath of their orgasms. The feel of the men's tongues on their sensitive skin was almost too much, a sensation that had them trembling with the promise of another climax. Winter felt a mouth close around her clit, the suction so intense she thought she might pass out.

Karina's body was a wreck, but the feeling of the man's tongue in her pussy had her squirting once again. Her hips bucked, her legs shaking as she was pushed over the edge. The warmth of her squirt sprayed the sheets, soaking the man's face. He didn't pull away, instead lapping it up eagerly, savoring the taste of her.

Winter felt the same intense pressure building within her, the man's mouth on her clit sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She could feel her pussy contracting around his fingers, the muscles clenching as she approached climax. And then, with a cry that was equal parts pleasure and pain, she squirted again, her body spasming as the orgasm ripped through her.

The men took a step back, their cocks finally spent. They looked at each other, a silent nod passing between them. They had pushed the girls to the brink, had seen them squirt and come more times than they could count.

Karina's eyes were wide and white, her pupils blown with pleasure. Her mouth hung open, a silent scream trapped inside her throat. Her legs were spread so wide, her pussy and ass gaping obscenely. The cum flowed out of her in a steady stream, a river of white that painted the bed beneath her.

Winter lay beside her, equally ravished. Her body quivered, her eyes rolled back in her head, showing only the white of her sclera. Her mouth was a perfect 'O', her tongue lolling out as if in a state of perpetual orgasm. The men's cum trickled from her pussy and ass, a reminder of the unimaginable fullness she had just experienced.

Their legs were splayed wide open, muscles too weak to hold any semblance of modesty. The sight of their gaping pussies and assholes, both coated in a thick layer of cum, was almost surreal. The men had stretched them to their limits, and now they lay there, utterly spent, their bodies a canvas of lust and desire.

One of the men stepped forward, his phone in hand. He paused for a moment, admiring the artistry of their spent forms. Then, with a smirk that was both predatory and satisfied, he began to snap photos. The flashes illuminated the room, capturing every intimate detail of the scene. The idols' faces were a mix of agony and ecstasy, their eyes glazed over with the aftermath of their countless orgasms.

Karina felt the coldness of the air against her exposed pussy, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. She was too tired to protest, too lost in the haze of pleasure to do anything but lie there and accept whatever came next. Winter's body trembled beside her, each flash of the camera's light highlighting the sweat that glistened on her skin.

The man took photo after photo, capturing every intimate detail of their spent forms. The images would serve as a memento of the night, a secret that would bind them together in a way nothing else could. They were no longer just members of aespa; they were participants in an unspeakable ritual that had claimed them body and soul.

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