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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months ago

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FIREFLIES NEVER CAME ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your seat is close to the heater. that’s the only reason gojo comes there to warm up.

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, teen!satoru, set in a canon au, mutual pining, fluff, a little bittersweet (melancholic winter vibes <3), introvert/extrovert, reader is antisocial and dense as a brick (black cat vibes :3), also kind of self-deprecating, satoru is very shoujo manga coded, just lots of puppy love!! feat. wingman!suguru <3

a/n; this wasn’t meant to be a fic …… it was gonna be really short and sweet ……… (T_T) anyway i am very fond of this reader/character dynamic so i hope you enjoy reading abt my emotionally stunted kids 🫶 biggest mwah in the world dedicated to professor logan (@staryukis) for teaching me about physics so i could find a loophole in satoru’s infinity :3c all for the sake of lore-accurate (kinda) fluff <3

”what are you listening to?”

your seat is close to the heater.

it was nothing but a lucky draw, on your part. yaga-sensei was organizing the desks on your first day, and so he gave you the first choice; one you had no trouble making, latching onto the chair in the very back, right by the window. right by the sole heater of the room. vital for surviving your chilly winter classes.

so there you sit. warmth sneaks through your fuzzy socks, tends to your restless legs; your feet tap and tap on the cold floorboards, in rhythm with your never-ending thoughts, planets out of orbit.

through the fogged-up, frosted glass of the window to your left, you observe the world. headphones safe and snug and covering your ears, muffling all grating noise. you watch as snow falls, wholly entranced, eyes stuck on the icy snowflakes descending from the wool-gray sky — blanketing the frostbitten landscape of the courtyard. it’s pretty, all those skeletal trees, glittering and gleaming like they have something to say. sometimes they look like stars.

”… hey. did you hear me?”

gojo is being particularly chatty, today.

out of the corner of your eye, you see him wave his hand right in front of your face. you��re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s rude; he must be used to all eyes being on him, from the moment he speaks.

with a flutter of your lashes, you lift your weary head. just to meet his gaze, the blurry shine of your own visage, reflected in his circle-frame glasses. a soft tilt of his head, and then his lips are twitching upwards, just barely, snowy strands gliding across his forehead and falling over his face. like an excited puppy.

”what are you listening to?”

you read the words off his lips, all sound muffled by your headphones. quick to lift one of your hands, pulling one of the heavy cushions away — letting all white noise in the room flood your senses. the snarls of the wind outside, ieiri’s laughter, the scribbling of geto’s pen against paper. monotone. loud.

it’s overwhelming, but a small price to pay. his voice is softer than usual, during moments like these; there’s a pleasant lull to it.

gojo tips his head to the right, still awaiting your response. all you can do is stare, watching your own reflection, fingers gripping onto the edge of your desk. as if seeking to ground yourself.

with a spoonful of hesitance, you part your lips.

”… do you like music?”

the words seep out into the air, a softly exhaled breath. gojo watches you, silently, for just a moment.

then he gives you a shrug.

”i guess?” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another — hand slipping into the pocket of his uniform. ”that’s more suguru’s thing.”

ah.

your mouth forms around the syllable, as if responding, but not making any sound. gaze fleeing from his glasses, crumbling under their weight, straying towards the frosted window to your left. safe, familiar, rotting trees and twitching branches. snow just as pure as the boy in front of you.

silence overtakes you both, once more.

”... not gonna answer?” he asks, with another tilt of his head, absently rocking side to side as he lets out an exhale. ”is it a secret, or something?”

(it is, you think. but you can’t say it out loud.)

before you can part your lips again, the classroom door slides open — and you know it’s yaga-sensei just by the way his feet hit the floorboards, the decisive weight behind every step. you know even before he’s telling you to get back to your seats.

on cue, gojo stands up straighter, shooting you another glance. bright-eyed, easy-going, every star in the sky leaping out from the glimpse you get of his eyes when he angles his body. two blue pools, flecked with white, like frozen puddles in the street.

and then he’s strolling away.

gojo leaves, and you take off your headphones; stretching your legs underneath the desk. reaching for your ballpoint pencil, flipping open your textbook, and indulging in sleepy blinks, as yaga begins to drone on and on. you stifle a yawn with the sleeve of your blazer, resting your jaw on the heel of your palm. eyes inevitably straying towards a head of white hair.

but your name is called before you can get lost in your daydreams.

”page 27, from the top.”

your chair scrapes against the floorboards, as you sluggishly stand up. holding onto your textbook, flipping the pages until you land on the correct passage. with shaky hands, not enough to notice, you read out loud; voice controlled, almost monotone. all you can think is that you feel his frost-clad eyes on you, from the row straight ahead.

but you continue to speak. you speak until you reach the end of the page, until you’re allowed to take your seat again, happy to feel the warmth of the heater radiate against your legs. it’s this warmth that’s important, the most important thing of all.

without it, gojo wouldn’t bother to stop by your desk.

nearly every recess, as soon as yaga leaves the classroom, he’s waltzing over — leaning against the wall, stretching his arms out, purring contentedly as heat spreads throughout his body. you think he must run cold. chatting with you, just to pass the time, just until your teacher comes back. just to warm up.

then he’s leaving, again.

that’s all it is. a cold boy, and a heater by your desk — a conversation that otherwise wouldn’t have occured. even the strongest is vulnerable to changes in temperature, you suppose.

though if warmth is all that binds him to you, it’s bound to dwindle away.

(you’re sure he’ll stop as soon as spring comes.)

the next day, gojo is nowhere to be seen. you saw yaga-sensei drag him out of the classroom this morning; something about a clan meeting, something you weren’t paying attention to.

but now you wish you had.

(it’s quiet, without him around. eerily so.)

with nothing to lose, and nothing else to do — you push your chair away from your desk, and walk up to your classmate, a question on your mind.

”… music? are you looking for recommendations?”

you nod.

geto blinks. caught off guard, you’re sure, surprised that you’d approach him without any prior coaxing. he’s usually the one striking up a conversation with you, like a responsible class president, making sure the weird kid doesn’t feel left out. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s patronizing.

”hmm... well, that depends.” he gives you a smile, soft around the edges. it never feels as genuine as gojo’s, but it’s calming. ”what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

…

you glance down at the floor. bundling up the cuffs of your uniform, fingers clawing softly at the fabric, bottom lip trapped between two sets of teeth.

”… what kind of music does gojo like?”

silence. your words are barely spoken, just above a whisper, just like always, but geto picks up on them anyway. you can tell he does, can feel the weight of his keen eyes on your face. analytical.

then he parts his lips.

”… ohhh.” a low hum, ripe with meaning, buzzing at the bottom of his throat. the corners of his lips quirk up into a knowing smile. ”i see.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, blossoms under your skin. if he notices, he’s even more composed than you thought he was, because he doesn’t mention it. only continues to speak, in that soothing voice, crossing his arms in silent thought.

”hmm…” you follow his gaze, out towards the window, the same webs of frost as always. it’s not snowing, but you still can’t see the blue of the sky. ”i’ve never seen him listen to music before, so i wouldn’t know.”

you can’t help but deflate, at that.

geto only smiles. exhaling, through his nose, mildly humoured — though he’s good at hiding his amusement. ”… what do you think that means?”

a blink. your lashes flutter, as you gaze up at him.

”… huh?”

”satoru doesn’t listen to music, but he wants to know what you’re listening to.” he says the words almost coachingly, like he’s listing off a string of numbers. you realize he must have been listening in on your conversation, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as his tone. ”what do you think that means?”

…

(you haven’t got a clue.)

geto lets out a chuckle, laced with mirth, no longer trying to hide it. paired with a soft shake of his head, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. ”why do you want to know about his taste in music, then?”

(… that’s a good question.)

he seems to notice your hesitance, your apprehension, the way your teeth seek to trap your bottom lip; always the victim of your muddled mind. you know the answer, of course you do — but it isn’t something you want others knowing.

thankfully, geto breaks the silence for you.

”i don’t think you need to try so hard, when it comes to him.” his voice is soft, almost sincere, something warmer than usual. glancing away when you meet his eyes. ”… he isn’t worth the effort, anyway.”

but that’s where he’s wrong.

satoru gojo is a special case. a special person. in the orbit of your life, there’s no star you’d rather keep — no one quite as ripe with colour.

geto couldn’t possibly understand, because gojo is always with him — always orbiting around him. he always will, until you graduate, probably even beyond that. geto has him. they’re the strongest, a pair, always matching their steps to one another. but you only have these quiet days, these chilly classes in between never-ending missions — and that’s all.

when the frost outside the window thaws, gojo will surely stop visiting your desk. your lonely little world.

that’s exactly why — you need to find a song. if you just teach him about something wonderful enough, if you can give him something other than warmth…

(… maybe he’ll stay with you even after spring comes.)

”next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”

geto’s suggestion breaks you out of your thoughts. when you raise your head, to meet the warm pools of amber in his eyes, he gives you a smile. there’s nothing patronizing about the way he’s looking at you now — if anything, you think it may even be slightly fond, but you can never tell what he’s actually feeling. he’s frightening, like that, always a mirror to his circumstances. a chameleon, tilting his head at you.

… though you can’t help but fall victim to the kindness in his eyes. the velveteen purr of his voice.

”i’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

a nervous pit opens up in your chest, an empty space that gnaws incessantly at your heart. will he?, you want to ask, but it feels like the words are made out of lead. you can’t get them out of your throat.

”… okay,” is all you end up whispering, a soft lull of your tongue. ”i’ll try… thank you.”

geto rewards you with a full smile.

”don’t mention it.”

spring is closer than you thought.

it’s all you can think, when you step onto the pavement, when you feel the morning air gnaw at your frostbitten cheeks. it’s freezing, it’s winter, but the signs of changing seasons are still there — a lonesome snowdrop, the crackle of an icy puddle beneath your feet. the frost is beginning to thaw.

in a month or so, spring will be here — there’s no stopping it.

”did you bring your card?”

your headphones rest around your neck, allowing you to listen in on your classmates' conversation. all four of you are together, for once, all first-years, walking towards the nearest konbini — at gojo’s insistence.

it’s been a week since you had that talk with geto, but you still haven’t made any progress with him.

”huh? was i supposed to?”

”… are you kidding me?”

you glance up at the pair. always walking just a little bit ahead, their tall statures obscuring the view in front of you; shoko lags behind, with lazy steps, a trail of tobacco drifting out into the crispy air. all while snowflakes fall from the sky, gently, landing in your hair, on your shoulders, melting on the inside of your palm when you hold it out to catch them. watching as they turn into droplets of water, slip through the gaps between your fingers.

someone taps your shoulder.

geto has snowflakes stuck in his hair. they’re melting, in the strands of ink-black framing his face, matching the colour of the thick polo jacket he’s wearing. a bright red scarf is tied around his throat, and there’s a weighty look in his eyes — something telling.

a silent cue.

he falls back, slowly but surely, into ieiri’s lazy pace. not before murmuring something unintelligible to gojo, and shooting you a wink — one that makes you frown, confused, a low heat blooming at the base of your spine and crawling up your neck.

and then you realize what he’s done.

gojo is looking right at you, through the black glass of his specs. only wearing a baseball jacket, no gloves or scarves to keep him warm, despite the harsh bite of the open air. for a guy who runs cold, he must not put much thought into his clothing.

more importantly…

it’s just the two of you, now.

you blink at him, silent as a mouse. it only takes a moment for him to start moving, for you to follow, taking your place beside him while staring right ahead. if he’s bothered by geto slinking away, he doesn’t show it — only continues to walk.

”… that’s so unfair.”

gojo’s voice breaks the silence. you turn your head to gaze at him, the way his lips wrap around the vowels, haphazardly hanging onto every word he speaks.

”just ’cause i have clan money,” he kicks at a pebble on the side of the road, wisps of white hair swaying with a shake of his head, ”suguru thinks i should pay for our snacks. isn’t that unfair?”

you hesitate. then you nod along, absently.

he seems to take that as a yes, because it makes him brighten — as if gleaming with your approval, standing a little straighter, puffing out his chest with an exhale that turns into white smoke.

”right? they only give it to me because they want me to come back to kyoto, anyway…” he trails off, holding the tip of his tongue between his lips. ”… not that it matters. anyway, i just think he’s oppressive.”

”… mm.”

from this angle, you can see a sliver of his eyes. can see the way he steals a glance at you, without even turning his head — hands slipping into his pockets. there’s a moment of silence, until he’s parting his lips again.

”… i can buy some for you, though.”

(you barely pick up on the words, spoken almost in a whisper — as if an afterthought.)

he clears his throat.

”… if you don’t have the money, i mean.”

you can’t help but blink, at that — lashes fluttering in rapid succession, wondering if you heard him correctly. he doesn’t seem keen on elaborating, though. walking on, ignoring all snowflakes descending from the sky, eager to nuzzle in between his locks. his infinity keeps them out.

”… why?”

it’s all you can say. all you can verbalize.

(in a story like this, why would the brightest star of all orbit around someone like you?)

gojo gives you another glance. his iris cuts into your skin, observes you on what you’re sure must be a molecular level. he lets silence linger, for a moment, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.

gray, and more gray. flecks of white. you’d see the same thing he does.

”hmm…” he lets out a breath, head falling forward again, snowy strands ghosting against the skin of his forehead. ”let’s call it a trade.”

another series of blinks.

gojo turns towards you, then — a fresh grin blooming on his lips. white teeth, pink gums. it makes him look boyish, innocent, just another city boy with too much time on his hands.

”i buy you snacks — and you tell me what music you’re always listening to.” he bends his body forward, tilts his head at the same time, all lanky and charming, like a big cat. ”deal?”

you stay silent.

he’s looking at your headphones, still left neglected around your neck. your gaze falls down to the icy concrete, the thin layer of frost, waiting to be melted by the first sunrays of spring. whenever that will be.

geto and shoko are still behind you — you can hear their low, muffled chatter, smell the remnants of tobacco in the air. and you swear you can practically hear geto’s words, echoing through your head.

(why do you think that is?)

gojo is still looking at you. expectantly, lips curled up into a lazy smile. he’s waiting, you know he is, and you also know he isn’t very good at that. you know a lot of things — what you don’t know is what to say. you don’t know if you can believe in whatever geto was insinuating, don’t know if you can grapple with your own longing to do so.

(next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?)

geto doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know what your feelings towards gojo truly look like. doesn’t know that what’s on your mind when he’s around is always something horrifically embarrassing. something like, i want to know more about you, or maybe i wish i could tell you more about me. something awfully cheesy, like — i’m jealous of how bright you shine, but i can’t help but like you anyway.

if i become your friend, would it be okay to say i understand your loneliness? that i notice it, even just by a fraction?

would that be okay with you?

(words that should be left unspoken.)

”… well, it’s not like you have to.” gojo exhales, again, the words a heavy weight seeping past his throat. his shoulders slump, as he turns forward, fingers trailing up to scratch at the back of his neck.

all you can think is that he’s getting ready to leave. that nothing will change, at this rate, that spring will wash winter away. that geto should be more direct with his advice, and that if it’s not the music itself that gojo is interested in knowing more about, then surely —

” — i don’t listen to anything.”

gojo stills. the words have flown past your lips before you can reach out and grasp them, slicing through the open air.

he spins around, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose at the sudden motion, exposing his widened eyes. those white lashes, fluttering softly, like a pair of doves eager to get above ground. you grip onto the insides of your pockets, warm and cozy against your freezing hands — it grounds you, keeps you tethered down to earth, down to him.

”music,” you continue, sputtering slightly, as if your lungs don’t quite know how to work under pressure. winter air seeps into your windpipe, cuts the skin there. ”i don’t listen to music.”

you lift your hands, fingers curling around the soft earmuffs wrapped around your neck, hesitantly meeting gojo’s gaze — an overlapping sequence, blanketing his view. then you’re gazing down.

”it’s just… comforting,” you try to explain, speaking softly. ”to wear them. white noise.. tires me out, so…”

the sentence trails off, unfinished. you feel silly. silly for saying anything at all, for building it up so much. silly for being the way that you are.

but when you look up at gojo, he’s brightened like a star.

white teeth, pink gums, that breathtakingly boyish grin. his blue eyes gleam with colour, almost spilling over the corners, like watercolour paint on a too-small canvas. he tilts his head, looking at you carefully, as if truly seeing you for the first time; absently swaying side to side.

if he had a tail, you’re sure it’d be wagging.

”i see!”

a silent breath spills into the air. your lips part, but no sound comes out, only vapour; heart pumping blood through your writhing veins, warming you up from the inside, a co-conspirator to the heat blooming in your cheeks. gojo continues to speak.

”i guess that counts,” he nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied hum. ”alright. i’ll get you any snacks you want! you can be greedy, it’s okay.”

a murmur of thanks escapes you, although you’d like to tell him there’s no need. something tells you denying him this would be like taking another step backwards, in this budding connection between you.

(… if you can even call it that.)

geto and ieiri catch up to your unmoving figures, finally, and only then does gojo spin on his heel and pick up his previous pace. calling back to you over his shoulder, a smile you can’t see but still hear.

”just don’t give any of it to those two, yeah?”

”cheapskate,” ieiri calls back, lone cigarette hanging between her lips. geto lets out something like a chuckle, his shoulder brushing up against yours.

you watch gojo’s back as he moves forward. unbothered, untethered. you think of him a snowflake in the breeze.

spring is almost here, now. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know your conversations during recess will surely dwindle out — but at least you’ll have had this. one normal conversation, the knowledge that he was curious about you, even if you may just be the classmate by the heater in his eyes.

you’re too cold to keep him warm all on your own, so there’s no helping it. you’re willing to accept that some stars only show from the surface during winter.

you’re willing to accept this. it aches, a little, but you’ll be okay.

”i’ll take it things went well, then?”

geto is wearing his signature smile, when you look up at him. an expression of carefully concealed composure, lips curled up, but a knowing look in his eyes — something that borders on teasing.

you give him a nod, a bow of your head, to silently convey your appreciation. chameleon or not, you don’t really mind his ways. it’s hard to fake the warmth in his voice, when he speaks.

”i’m glad.”

the two of you watch gojo’s back, like birds gazing out at a body of water. silence lingers.

”won’t that moron get cold?”

ieiri’s voice cuts through the mold of your mind, low and gravelly, right beside you. she’s pointing towards gojo — the flimsy jacket he’s wearing.

you’re wondering the same thing.

geto casts her a glance over your head, before gazing down at you, seemingly noticing your curiosity. he lets out a low hum; reaching a hand out to brush away the snowflakes on his shoulders.

”temperature,” he begins, slipping his hands into his pockets; that familiar coaching tone to his voice, purposefully slow. ”is just a measure of atoms in rapid motion.”

you tilt your head, in tandem with ieiri — looking to your classmate for further elaboration. he seems to enjoy your confusion, lips curling up just a bit. gojo calls out to you, in the distance, waving both his hands, and geto returns it with a wave of his own.

an amber eye flicks towards you, an explanation on his tongue. ”his infinity can regulate that motion.”

… another tilt of your head.

geto lets out an amused breath. it scatters out into the air, a cloud of smoke, almost a chuckle.

”basically…” he sighs. ”he does just fine, in the cold. don’t worry about it. he’ll keep himself warm.”

ieiri mutters something, beneath her breath, something like you could have just said no, but you don’t really hear it. you think your heart must have climbed up, somehow; got caught in your windpipe.

ah.

gojo can keep himself warm.

the thought spins inside your mind, over and over, a realization that makes your inner palms feel clammy. stupid, silly, this pitter-patter of your heartbeat. but what else could it mean? if the cold doesn’t bother him, if he doesn’t run cold, then…

(he wouldn’t need it. he wouldn’t need it here, wouldn’t need it during recess, within the chilly walls of your classroom. he wouldn’t need it to stay warm.

gojo isn’t after your heater. if that’s true, then…)

…

you bury your nose in the soft wool of your scarf. breathing in the fading scent, vanilla and cinnamon, grounding you to earth, lingering in your nostrils. distracting you from the rush of warmth, that blooms in the frostbitten apples of your cheeks.

as if sensing your thoughts, or maybe just noticing your embarrassed expression, geto laughs — soft and breathy, shoulders shaking to your left. you hear it, only nuzzling deeper into the comfort of your scarf. feeling your heartbeat spin out of orbit.

in the distance, gojo continues to wave, yelling out something unintelligible. you could mistake him for a star.

spring is almost here, now. in just a month or so, it’ll be at your doorstep — waltzing right in.

(but you aren’t worried.)

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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jupiterpilgrim · 5 days ago

Text

Sex Cage: Big Breasts and the Ordinary Modern Life

Eunbi x Somi x male reader

word count: 12K

previous chapter

Eunbi’s room is decked out like a gamer’s fever dream now. The RGB lights are set up just right, throwing a chill neon glow around, lighting up her face a bit. She’s parked in her plush gaming chair, legs tucked under, hunched over the mic. She’s rocking a baggy gray sweatshirt that’s slipping off one shoulder, showing a peek of her white tank top, and some soft black shorts. Her hair’s up in a messy bun, a couple strands hanging loose around her face. The camera’s got her in frame, the ring light smoothing out the hype written all over her expression. On-screen, “Rubydden’s Realm” overlays the corner of the stream—a hastily made, slightly clunky logo she insisted on designing herself. Below it, a scrolling bar reads, “First-ever stream! Let’s see if I survive TLOU!”

Her hands grip the controller nervously as the familiar PlayStation startup chime fades. The chat explodes before she even gets to the main menu.

StarGazer48: OMG, first stream vibes!!!

ButterflyEffect: She’s so cute 😭

ClickClackJack: Does she even know what’s coming??

MossyUnderwear: If she doesn’t cry at the start, she’s a robot.

"Wow! Okay, okay, hold on, chat!" Eunbi laughs, her voice carrying that particular mix of giddiness and terror. She leans forward, squinting at the second monitor to keep up with the flood of comments. “First of all, hi, everyone! Thank you for showing up… I thought there would be like… five people?"

She glances toward you, sitting just off-camera, as if for reassurance. You flash her a thumbs-up, silently mouthing, “You’ve got this.”

Her nervous laugh lingers as she picks up the controller, her fingers already fumbling with the buttons. “So, here’s the deal. This is my first-ever stream, obviously. And we’re starting with The Last of Us because… well, apparently, it’s a classic, and I don’t know much about it other than… it’s supposed to be really dramatic?” She draws out the last word like it’s a question, her doe eyes widening.

The chat erupts again:

GameDork98: Oh, honey, you have NO idea.

HatGuy69: She’s gonna cry in the first 15 minutes, guaranteed.

EllieLuv: Protect Ellie at all costs 😭

"Wait, what? Cry?!” Eunbi’s head jerks up, her gaze darting to the chat. “Nobody said anything about crying! This is just… an apocalypse thing, right? Like zombies and stuff?” Her voice rises an octave as she tries to sound calm.

The game menu appears, the soundtrack's desolate guitar fills Eunbi's ears through headphones. She adjusts in her seat, pulling the hoodie tighter around her like armor. “Alright, alright. I’m not scared. I got this. I mean, if I can handle weird requests in my DMs, I can handle… this… scary music…”

She navigates to “New Game,” as the opening cinematic begins, her expression shifts from nervous to curious. “Oh, wow. The graphics are pretty good. Look at this house! So cozy—oh no, is this where the drama starts?”

The chat explodes with laughter, cryptic emojis, and ominous hints.

ClickClackJack: This is the calm before the storm.

CryingAlpaca: Everyone, place your bets. Does she cry in 5 minutes or 10?

Eunbi leans closer, totally engrossed in Sarah wandering through the house. “Aw, this kid is so cute. Wait—she’s the main character, right?”

The chat collectively groans.

DadJokes24: Oh, sweet summer child…

“Wait, wait! Why are you guys groaning?!” she exclaims, pausing the game, eyes darting to the chat. “Don’t tell me! No spoilers, okay? Let me be innocent and enjoy this!”

She presses play again, her lips pursed as she concentrates. The moment Joel bursts through the door, Eunbi squeals in surprise. “Oh my god, what’s happening?!”

As the chaos unfolds—the infected neighbor, the car chase—she grips the controller so tightly her knuckles whiten. “THIS IS NOT ZOMBIE STUFF! WHY IS EVERYTHING EXPLODING?!”

DoomBoom: Chat, she’s losing it. This is GOLD.

NoContextGary: Just wait until the emotional sucker punch.

When the gut-wrenching scene with Joel and Sarah hits, Eunbi falls silent. Her eyes stay glued to the screen as her mouth drops open slightly. The soft sound of a sob escapes her lips as the scene fades to black, and she quickly wipes her eyes with her sleeve, laughing awkwardly. “Okay. Fine. You win. I cried. Are you happy now?”

CryingAlpaca: 16 minutes. I called it.

EllieLuv: And that's just the fucking prologue!!

ClipThis: Clip it, chat!

Eunbi sits back, letting out a shaky breath. “I need a second. That was brutal. And you guys… you knew. This whole time, you knew!” She waves a finger at the camera, mock-accusingly.

Her laughter turns genuine as she takes a sip from her water bottle, holding it dramatically like an Oscar. “Alright, let’s keep going. But if the game keeps hitting me like that, I might need therapy. And snacks. Definitely snacks.”

The chat goes wild with love and teasing, and Eunbi seems to relax, her natural charm shining through. When you see that she has everything under control, you sneak out of the room to let her focus on the game. She adjusts her hoodie, leans into the mic, and smirks at the camera. “Okay, chat. Let’s see what other heartbreaks you’ve got lined up for me. Bring it on.”

—

The stream winds down with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion radiating from Eunbi. The game’s pause menu glows on the screen as she swivels her chair toward the camera, resting her chin in her hands with a bright, satisfied smile.

“Alright, chat. That’s it for today!” she announces, her voice warm and a little hoarse from three hours of near-constant talking. “I can’t believe we actually survived this far… well, mostly. Let’s just ignore all the times I accidentally ran straight into danger, okay? You guys are seriously the best for sticking with me through that chaos.”

The chat explodes with a flurry of messages:

StarGazer48: BEST STREAM EVER!

ButterflyEffect: You were so much fun, Ruby! Can’t wait for Friday!

ClickClackJack: First stream? Nah, you’re a natural.

RubyFan326: She’s learning fast chat, we stan a chaotic queen!!

Eunbi beams, hugging her knees to her chest like she can’t contain her excitement. “You’re all making me blush. Seriously, thank you for hanging out with me. I’m back Friday at 7 PM—mark your calendars, okay? Same game, same chaos, but hopefully with fewer ‘oops I died’ moments.” She flashes a cheeky grin and winks at the camera.

“And don’t forget to follow if you haven’t already! I mean, unless you hate fun. In that case… I don’t know what to tell you.” She laughs, leaning back in her chair and making finger guns at the screen.

The chat fills with emotes and farewells, hearts and inside jokes from the stream.

MossyUnderwear: WE LOVE YOU, RUBYDDEN!

DadJokes24: Don’t forget snacks for next time!

MovieBuff88: Stream was fire 🔥. See you Friday!

Eunbi waves a final time, her smile stretching wide and genuine. “Bye, guys! See you Friday! Be good, okay?” She clicks the “End Stream” button, the chat disappearing into a frozen feed of her grinning face.

The room falls silent except for the faint hum of her PC. Eunbi leans back, letting out a long, breathy laugh, hands pressed to her cheeks. “Oh my god… that was insane,” she mutters to herself, still buzzing.

Without a second thought, she bolts from her chair, nearly tripping over the cord of her headset. She sprints to your room, throwing the door open with the force of a hurricane.

“BABE!” she screams, launching herself onto the bed where you’re sprawled out, scrolling on your phone.

“Jesus!” you exclaim, startled, but there’s no time to process because Eunbi is already on top of you, straddling your waist and peppering your face with a barrage of kisses.

“Did you see that?!” she babbles between kisses, her words tumbling out like they’re fighting for first place. “They loved me! They actually loved me! The chat was so sweet, and everyone was so funny, and I didn’t even cry that much, right? Okay, maybe a little, but that was the game’s fault, not mine!”

You laugh, hands instinctively finding her waist as you steady her. “Slow down, babe! I can barely understand you!”

She pulls back, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. “I can’t slow down! I’m too excited! It went so much better than I thought it would, and they were so nice, and I didn’t mess up too badly, right?”

“Are you kidding me? You killed it,” you assure her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You were funny, adorable, and totally yourself. No wonder they loved you.”

Her grin widens, and she dives back in, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips—anywhere she can reach. “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” she teases, but her voice is thick with happiness.

“Maybe,” you admit, catching her face in your hands to slow her down and plant a proper kiss on her lips. “But I’m also right. You were amazing.”

She melts into the kiss for a moment before pulling back, practically vibrating with energy. “I have so many ideas for Friday! Like, maybe I can do a snack tier list during breaks? Oh, and I should definitely figure out how to make those pop-up notifications cooler—like, fireworks or something every time someone subscribes!”

You laugh, letting her ramble, loving every second of seeing her this happy. “Whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. I’ll help you set it up.”

“Ugh, you’re the best,” she says, flopping down beside you, her head resting on your chest. She’s still buzzing, her fingers drumming lightly against your ribs. “This was the best day. I didn’t think I’d love streaming this much, but it’s so fun! And everyone was so nice! Did I already say that?!”

“Only like ten times,” you tease, wrapping an arm around her.

“Well, it’s true!” she says, tilting her head to look up at you, her smile softening. “Thanks for believing in me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Always,” you say, pressing a kiss to her temple. The two of you lie there in a comfortable silence, her excitement slowly giving way to contentment as she curls closer to you.

—

The gym is quite crowded today. The faint scent of rubber mats and sweat hangs in the air, but it’s far from unpleasant—it’s the smell of effort! Eunbi and Somi stand by the dumbbell rack, mid-chat, stretching in between sets.

Eunbi’s dressed in a black sports bra and high-waisted lavender leggings that hug her figure, her small waist accentuated by the snug fit. Her hair’s tied up in a messy ponytail, a few strands already sticking to her forehead from the light sheen of sweat. Beside her, Somi towers, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek braid that sways with every movement. She’s wearing a cropped white tank top, leaving her toned stomach exposed, paired with tight, navy blue biker shorts. The cut of her tank makes her generous chest all the more noticeable, matching Eunbi’s proportions, but on a taller frame.

“You really crushed that stream, Eunbi,” Somi says as she adjusts her stance for a set of squats. She picks up a kettlebell, testing its weight. “Three hours and you still looked fresh by the end? You’re a beast.”

Eunbi laughs, grabbing a smaller kettlebell for herself. “Fresh? More like barely holding it together.”

“Yeah, but that’s part of your charm,” Somi teases, dropping into her squat. Her form is flawless, back straight, glutes engaging as she lowers herself smoothly. “You’re just… you. And people love that. They eat it up.”

Eunbi mimics the movement beside her, her squat not quite as smooth but serviceable. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. But the chat was so supportive… like, weirdly supportive? I half-expected trolls, but they were sweet.” She pauses, glancing at Somi with a grin. “Kind of like you, always hyping me up.”

Somi straightens, laughing as she rests the kettlebell against her hip. “Of course I’m hyping you up. You’re killing it, Eunbi. You deserve all of it—the success, the love. And let’s not forget about your boyfriend. I swear, he’s like… the blueprint for ‘sweet and supportive.’”

Eunbi rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. “Yeah, he’s pretty great. You should’ve seen him after the stream. I practically tackled him with excitement, and he just took it like a champ.”

Somi smirks, switching to lateral raises with a pair of dumbbells. “I bet. He’s head over heels for you—it’s obvious. You lucked out, girl.” She glances at Eunbi out of the corner of her eye. “And he’s cute. Just saying.”

Eunbi snorts, picking up her own weights and joining in on the raises. “Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego’s big enough already.”

“Mm, doubt it. He seems too grounded for that,” Somi says, her voice casual but carrying a playful undertone. She pauses, lowering the dumbbells. “But seriously, Eunbi… I’m glad you’ve got someone like him in your corner. Relationships are hard enough without the added… unique challenges of your job.”

Eunbi sets the weights down, exhaling as she stretches her arms over her head. “Yeah. It’s not always easy, but we make it work. Honestly, he’s been a lifesaver. I don’t think I could do this without him.”

Somi’s expression softens, and she leans against the rack, studying Eunbi for a moment. “You’re lucky. But so is he. You’ve always been brave, you know? Even when you first started… this whole thing, you owned it. And look where you are now.”

Eunbi chuckles, a hint of shyness creeping into her tone. “I don’t know if I’d call it brave. More like… desperate with a side of cluelessness.”

“Stop it.” Somi nudges her shoulder with a laugh. “You’ve got guts, and I respect that. Honestly, it’s inspiring. And maybe… I’ve been thinking about trying it, too.”

Eunbi freezes mid-stretch, blinking at Somi. “Wait. What?”

Somi shrugs, her braid bouncing. “Not, like, diving headfirst or anything. But I’ve been curious. You make it look fun. Plus…” She hesitates, glancing at Eunbi with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You and your boyfriend are both… ridiculously attractive. Just throwing that out there.”

Eunbi bursts out laughing, bending over to catch her breath. “Oh my god, Somi. Are you serious right now?”

“What?” Somi grins, unrepentant. “I’m just saying. If you ever wanted to collaborate… you know I’m game.”

Eunbi straightens, still laughing but with a faint blush creeping across her cheeks. “You’re insane. But I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Somi winks, picking up her dumbbells again. “You do that, princess. Now, come on. We’ve got one more set to crush.”

The two of them dive back into their workout, the conversation hanging in the air like a secret they’re both in on. It’s become routine now—Eunbi and Somi hitting the gym together, sweating it out between sets, always slipping into these raw, intimate talks where the masks drop. They’re best friends, no bullshit, just two girls who get each other completely. The gym’s their safe zone, a sweaty, clangy haven where they can flex their muscles and their honesty, laughing about life, love, and whatever wild ideas Somi’s cooking up next—no judgment, just vibes.

—

The door bursts open, and Eunbi and Somi stumble in, laughing so hard they’re practically leaning on each other for support. Both are flushed from the workout, faces glowing and slightly damp, strands of hair sticking to their foreheads. Eunbi kicks off her sneakers near the door without looking, while Somi collapses onto the couch, her braid swaying as she falls back with a dramatic groan.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the coffee table, a damp cloth in one hand and a spray bottle in the other. The faint scent of citrus cleaner fills the room. You glance up, eyebrows raised, as the two whirlwind into the apartment like they were in a park.

“Well, look at you,” Somi says with a teasing grin, sitting up and gesturing toward you with a lazy wave of her hand. “The perfect house boyfriend. Cleaning up while we’re out breaking a sweat. It’s adorable, really.”

Eunbi, still giggling, grabs a water bottle from the counter and takes a long sip before pointing at you with mock sternness. “Seriously, babe. You’re making the rest of us look bad. Stop being so domestic—it’s embarrassing.”

You straighten, crossing your arms, cloth dangling from one hand. “Excuse me for trying to keep this place from becoming a pigsty. Somebody’s got to do it.”

Somi leans forward, her elbow resting on her knee, and gives you a sly look. “Somebody’s gotta earn that ‘house boyfriend’ title, huh?”

Eunbi snickers, joining in as she sets her water bottle down. “He’s good at it, though. I should get him an apron.”

“I draw the line at aprons,” you deadpan, but there’s a flicker of amusement in your tone.

The laughter dies down, but there’s something in the air now—a faint charge, like static before a storm. You catch a glance between Eunbi and Somi, quick and loaded, followed by matching smirks. Suspicious. Very suspicious.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing,” Eunbi says, her tone light but her face too innocent. She grabs Somi by the arm, dragging her toward the kitchen. “Come on, let’s make a snack before this ‘house boyfriend’ kicks us out for dripping sweat everywhere.”

You watch them disappear into the kitchen, your gaze lingering as they start pulling things from the fridge. There’s something about the way they move around each other, the subtle touches and shared grins. You shake your head, trying to dismiss it, but the thought sticks.

As you finish wiping the table, you hear Eunbi’s voice, quiet but not quiet enough to miss.

“So, should I tell him, or do you want to?”

Somi laughs. “Oh, I think you should warm him up first. Wouldn’t want to scare him off.”

Now you’re curious—and a little uneasy. You toss the cloth and spray bottle onto the counter and make your way toward the kitchen.

Eunbi’s standing by the cutting board, slicing apples, while Somi leans against the counter, munching on a carrot stick like it’s a cigarette. They both glance up when you walk in, and there’s that same look between them again.

“Alright,” you say, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed. “What’s going on?”

Eunbi pauses mid-slice, looking at Somi for a beat before turning to you with a sheepish smile. “Okay, so… Somi said something interesting at the gym.”

“Interesting how?”

Eunbi sets down the knife and crosses her arms, mirroring your stance. “She said she might want to… collaborate with us. Like, on a video.”

“She wants what?”

Somi steps in, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “I mean, no pressure or anything. I just thought… you two are obviously comfortable with this stuff, and I’ve been curious. Plus…” She shrugs, flashing you a playful grin. “You’re cute. She’s cute. It seemed like a no-brainer.”

You blink, your mind scrambling to process this new development. “Uh… Somi, you’re… a friend. This is kind of… unexpected.”

Somi laughs, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face. “Oh, I get it. It’s weird, right? But hey, Yujin wasn’t exactly a stranger, was she?”

“That’s… different,” you say, struggling to find the words.

“Why? Because I know you better?” Somi steps closer, her smile softening. “Look, I’m not saying you have to decide right now. Just… consider it, okay?”

Before you can respond, she leans in, planting a quick kiss on Eunbi’s cheek, then yours. It’s light, playful, and far more disarming than it has any right to be.

Eunbi’s face lights up, a mix of amusement and something more as she watches your reaction. “Wow,” she says, nudging you with her elbow. “Looks like someone’s had their eye on us, huh?”

Somi winks, grabbing an apple slice from the cutting board. “What can I say? You two are hard to ignore.”

Eunbi laughs, her hand brushing yours as she reaches for another apple slice. “Well, babe, what do you think? Somi’s always been bold, but this might be her boldest move yet.”

You glance between them, the weight of their playful smiles making your head spin. “I… think I need to sit down,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck.

Somi’s laugh rings out, warm and teasing. “Take your time, house boyfriend. No rush. I’ll just… let that idea simmer for a bit.”

Eunbi grins, handing you an apple slice like it’s a peace offering. “Welcome to my world, babe. It’s never boring.”

You take the apple, biting into it as you watch the two of them exchange another loaded look.

Never boring, indeed.

—

Eunbi starts planting the idea subtly, like she’s threading a needle through the gaps in your resolve, pulling the thread just tight enough to make you notice but not enough to make you pull away. It starts with offhand comments, playful teases wrapped in casual conversation.

“You know,” she muses one night, sprawled out on your chest while idly scrolling through her phone, “Somi’s got this unreal body. Like, actually unfair.”

You glance down at her, raising a brow. “And this is relevant to me because…?”

She tilts her head up, lips twitching with amusement. “Because you have eyes? And also because I know you like a nice tight ass, and hers is—well, come on.” She flicks her screen, and suddenly, she’s holding it up to you, a picture of Somi in a tiny bikini dominating the screen. The straps are minimal, the fit snug, every curve accentuated by the sun-kissed glow of her skin, especially the cleavage of her breasts—god, those breasts...

You swallow. Hard.

“Okay,” you admit, trying to play it cool. “She’s hot. What’s your point?”

Eunbi grins, sensing the crack in your composure. She flips to another picture—this time, one of her and Somi at the gym, both clad in skin-tight leggings that leave little to the imagination. Somi’s in navy blue, Eunbi in lavender, their toned legs and hips pressed close together as they pose in the mirror.

Your fingers tighten slightly around your phone. Eunbi notices.

“My point,” she continues, voice smooth as silk, “is that we’d look good together. Don’t you think?”

You exhale, pressing your head back against the pillow. “I think you like messing with me.”

She laughs, her breath warm against your collarbone as she shifts, draping herself over you like a cat basking in its favorite spot. “Obviously. But I also know you. And I know you’ve thought about it.”

Your silence is answer enough.

Eunbi doesn’t rush you—she never does. She lets the idea marinate, simmering on the edges of your thoughts, dropping little breadcrumbs every so often. A comment here, a lingering glance there. One night, she casually asks, “Wasn’t it fun with Yujin?” as she trails kisses down your neck. Another time, she accidentally leaves her phone unlocked on the bed, a chat with Somi open—Somi, who’s sent a winking selfie captioned, “So when are we making this happen? 😘”

You pretend not to see it.

But pretending doesn’t stop the thoughts. It doesn’t stop the way you start noticing Somi more—the way her tank tops ride up when she stretches, exposing that sliver of taut stomach. The way she playfully bumps your shoulder when she walks past, always just a little too close. The way her laughter lingers a second longer when she catches you watching her.

Then comes the night Eunbi corners you—figuratively, of course. She’s sitting in your lap, straddling you, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your shoulders.

“Babe,” she murmurs, lips inches from yours, “are you really gonna make me beg?”

You exhale slowly, hands gripping her waist. “This is crazy.”

She tilts her head. “Is it? You trust me, don’t you?”

That question hangs between you, heavier than the warmth of her body against yours. Of course, you trust her. That was never the issue. The issue was the part of you that already knew where this was heading.

You take a breath, slow and measured, but the weight of Eunbi’s gaze makes it feel shallow, like there’s not enough air in the room. She’s watching you, waiting, her fingers still tracing those absentminded patterns along your shoulders, nails just barely grazing your skin.

And then, finally, you exhale.

“…Yeah,” you admit. “I do.”

Eunbi’s lips curl into something victorious, but not smug—no, this is softer, warmer. She cradles your face in her hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones as she studies you like she’s memorizing this moment.

“See?” she murmurs. “That wasn’t so hard.”

You huff out a laugh. “Says the woman who spent weeks working me over.”

She grins, pressing a teasing kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You say that like you didn’t enjoy it.”

Your grip on her waist tightens slightly, enough for her to notice, enough for her to smirk as she leans in again, lips barely brushing yours as she whispers, “It’s gonna be fun.”

—

So the day finally arrives.

You're in your room, eyes glued to the laptop screen, hunched over the desk, a spreadsheet open, cells filled with numbers that look like they’re mocking you with their sheer volume. Eunbi’s earnings have skyrocketed since she started streaming, and between that and her other content, the bank account has become a lot healthier than you ever expected. It’s great—amazing, really—but it’s also overwhelming.

You mutter under your breath, adjusting a formula that doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. Managing finances was never something you planned on doing full-time, but here you are, crunching numbers like you’re auditioning for an accountant job you don’t want.

The faint sound of Eunbi’s voice filters in from the living room, energetic and full of life as she wraps up another stream. You smile, proud of her. She’s thriving, and you love helping her behind the scenes, but… there’s still that nagging feeling. The one that whispers you’re not doing enough, even though she’s insisted a million times that you’re her rock, her partner, her everything.

Before you can spiral too deep into your thoughts, the door swings open with zero warning, and in walks Somi. No knock, no announcement—just an entrance like she owns the place. Her damp braided blonde hair clings to her shoulders, and she’s wearing what you generously call pajamas: a loose tank top that barely clings to her chest and shorts so tiny they might as well be a suggestion rather than clothing.

“Hey, house boyfriend,” she says, flopping onto the bed like a cat claiming territory. “What’s got you all serious in here?”

You glance up, trying not to let your gaze linger too long on the way her tank top shifts as she settles in. “Numbers. Money stuff. Trying to figure out what to do with all this cash Eunbi’s making.”

Somi tilts her head, propping herself up on one elbow. “Ooh, let me guess. She’s still hopeless with money?”

“Completely,” you reply, smirking despite yourself. “She tried to tell me her budget was ‘don’t buy anything unless it’s on sale.’”

Somi bursts out laughing. “Classic Eunbi. So what’s the plan? Stash it under the mattress? Blow it all on RGB lights?”

“Ha. Ha,” you say dryly, gesturing at the screen. “I was thinking investments. Something stable but with a decent return. Problem is, I’m stuck on this formula, and Google’s no help.”

She hops off the bed and strides over, peering over your shoulder. “Let me see.”

You lean back, letting her get a closer look. Her proximity is… distracting. The scent of her shampoo, light and floral, drifts into your space, and her damp hair brushes your arm as she leans in.

“Ah, I see the problem,” she says. “You’re trying to calculate compound interest on a rolling deposit. You need to nest the formula differently.”

You blink. “How do you even know that?”

Somi grins, tapping her temple. “Numbers are my thing. Did Eunbi ever tell you that I made money in high school by doing other students' math homework?”

“No, but now it makes sense why you’re so annoyingly good at everything,” you say, shifting to let her take the keyboard.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she quips, typing away with swift, assured keystrokes. Within seconds, the formula is fixed, and the numbers fall into place like obedient soldiers.

“There. Problem solved,” she says, stepping back with a flourish.

You stare at the screen, genuinely impressed. “Okay, that’s actually amazing. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” she says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “So, what are we investing in? Stocks? Crypto? A small island in the Caribbean?”

“Let’s start with something less risky, like index funds. We can work our way up to the private island.”

Somi nods sagely. “Smart. And when you get the island, don’t forget who helped you make the down payment.”

“Noted,” you say, leaning back in your chair.

She plops back onto the bed, stretching out like she’s lived here her whole life.

“So,” she says, her voice teasing, “you ready for tonight?”

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. “I guess? Still wrapping my head around it, to be honest.”

“Relax,” she says, her tone softening. “It’s just us. Nothing’s going to change. I’m still Somi, Eunbi’s still Eunbi, and you’re still… well, house boyfriend.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mutter, but there’s a faint smile on your lips.

She sits up, her expression unusually earnest. “I mean it. You don’t have to overthink this. We’re friends first, okay? The rest is just… extra.”

You nod. “Okay. Thanks, Somi.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says, standing and stretching, her arms reaching above her head. She catches your gaze for a moment, a playful glint in her eye. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to raid your fridge. Got to fuel up for the big night.”

She saunters out, leaving the faint scent of her shampoo behind. You exhale, staring at the now-organized spreadsheet. Somi might be right about not overthinking, but something tells you this night is going to be anything but ordinary.

The hours pass and you’re sprawled out in your room when the door swings open with that familiar creak. Eunbi struts in, and fuck, she’s got that look—like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. Her oversized hoodie’s slipping off one shoulder like always, showing off that thin strap of her tank top, and those soft black shorts are riding up just enough to make your brain short-circuit. She’s got this sultry little smirk, all suggestive and playful, as she leans against the doorframe. “Everything’s set for the recording,” she says, like she’s dangling something you can’t resist. You push yourself up from the chair, stretching a little, but there’s this hesitant buzz in your chest—like you’re excited but still wrapping your head around what’s about to go down. “How’d the stream go?” you ask, scratching the back of your neck, trying to play it cool. She lights up, bouncing on her toes. “Oh my god, it was awesome. Chat was hyped, I had a blast, and The Last of Us? I’m obsessed. Joel’s breaking my heart every five minutes.” Her energy’s infectious, and you can’t help but grin—she’s killing it, and you’re genuinely stoked for her. She steps closer, grabs your face with both hands, and plants a soft, quick kiss on your lips. “You okay, babe?” she asks, tilting her head, those big eyes searching yours. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, nodding, and it’s true, even if your pulse is kicking up a notch. She flashes you that smile that always melts you, grabs your hand, and tugs you toward her room like she’s on a mission.

You follow her down the hall, her fingers laced with yours, and when you step into her space, it’s like walking into a different world. The RGB lights are dialed up, casting a soft purple-red glow over everything, and her streaming setup’s still warm from earlier. Somi’s perched on a stool by the desk, finishing her makeup, a little compact mirror in one hand and a fluffy brush in the other. She’s still rocking that barely-there tank top, the fabric stretched tight over her chest, and those tiny shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Her blonde hair’s loose now, falling over her shoulders in messy waves, and when she spots you, her face lights up like she’s been waiting for this all day. “There’s our star,” she says, tossing the brush down and hopping off the stool, all long legs and confidence. You give her a half-smile, feeling the air shift—thicker, heavier with whatever’s about to happen. You head over to the camera on its tripod, double-checking the battery. Green light’s solid—plenty of juice. Everything’s good to go, and you drop onto the edge of the mattress, rubbing your hands on your jeans, trying to shake off that nervous edge.

Eunbi doesn’t waste a second—she slides right onto your lap, straddling you, her thighs pressing against your hips. The weight of her feels so fucking good, familiar but electric with the vibe in the room. Somi plops down next to you, close enough that her bare knee brushes yours, and she leans in with this sly little grin. “Alright, let’s break the ice,” she says. Before you can even process it, Eunbi turns her head, grabs Somi by the neck, and pulls her into a kiss. Holy shit—it’s hot. Like, instantly hot. They’re both gorgeous, lips soft and glossy, moving against each other like they’ve done this a million times, even though you know they’re just good friends pushing boundaries. Eunbi’s hands slide up Somi’s arms, then cup her massive tits through that flimsy tank top, squeezing just enough to make Somi moan into her mouth—a low, needy sound that hits you right in the gut. You can see Somi’s nipples hardening, poking through the fabric, and your jeans are getting tight as hell. Your cock’s waking up fast, straining against the zipper, and you shift a little under Eunbi, trying to play it off, but she’s gotta feel it.

Somi’s not holding back either—her hands slip under Eunbi’s hoodie, pushing it up to expose the smooth curve of her waist and the edge of her tank top. She grabs Eunbi’s tits, thumbs brushing over where her nipples are probably hard as fuck under the layers, and Eunbi lets out this breathy little gasp that makes your head spin. The hoodie’s bunched up now, showing off her flat stomach, and the way they’re groping each other is straight-up pornographic—except it’s real, and it’s happening two feet from you. They break the kiss, both of them flushed, lips shiny with spit, and Eunbi turns to you, cheeks pink, eyes dark. “What’d you think, babe?” she asks, voice all husky. You swallow hard, throat dry as fuck. “Yeah, uh, I liked it,” you manage, and she smirks, shifting her hips just enough to grind against your boner. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and that smile says she’s loving every second of it.

Then Somi leans in, her hand resting on your thigh—way too close to your dick—and says, “My turn.” Before you can even think, her lips are on yours, soft and warm and tasting faintly of cherry lip gloss. You’re so fucking horny it’s ridiculous, and you kiss her back harder than you mean to, tongue slipping into her mouth, hands grabbing her waist on instinct. She’s pressing herself against you, her tits squished against your chest, and it’s like every nerve in your body’s on fire. Eunbi’s still on your lap, watching with this mesmerized, horny-as-hell look, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Somi pulls back, breathing fast, and you’re both a little wrecked—her hair’s a mess from your fingers, and you’re pretty sure your brain’s offline. Eunbi’s voice cuts through the haze, soft and teasing. “So? What’d you think of that?” You’re panting a little, cock throbbing under her weight. “Fuck, I liked it,” you say, and she giggles, leaning in to give you a quick, sloppy kiss—more tongue than necessary, like she’s staking her claim.

She slides off your lap, adjusting her hoodie, and claps her hands together. “Alright, we’re ready to start filming,” she says, all business now, but her eyes are still gleaming with lust. Somi’s smirking, wiping a smudge of gloss from the corner of her mouth, and you’re just sitting there, hard as a rock, trying to catch your breath.

Eunbi’s got that glint in her eye as she picks up the camera from the tripod, her fingers brushing yours as she hands it over. “You’re on POV duty, babe,” she says. The weight of the camera settles in your hands, solid and real, and you adjust your grip, already picturing how this is gonna look through the lens. Somi’s rummaging through the little box of props by the desk, pulling out this old black masquerade mask—the one Eunbi used to wear back when she was still anonymous. Somi slips it over her eyes, the elastic snapping into place, and it’s just these two thin straps of fabric cutting across her face, leaving her mouth and jaw exposed. The way it frames her cheekbones and makes her lips pop is unreal. Eunbi steps back, tilting her head to check her out, and grins. “Fuck, you look sexy as hell like that,” she says, all casual like she’s complimenting Somi’s gym outfit or something. Somi strikes a little pose, popping her hip, and smirks. “Yeah? Good, ‘cause I’m ready to fuck shit up.”

You adjust yourself on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, the mattress dipping under your weight. The camera’s in your hands, lens pointed down at your lap for now, and you can feel your pulse hammering in your throat. “Alright, I’m gonna start recording,” you say, thumb hovering over the button. Your voice comes out steadier than you feel, which is a minor miracle. You hit record, and the little red light blinks on. Eunbi and Somi drop to their knees between your legs, smooth and synced like they’ve rehearsed this shit. The carpet’s soft under their knees, and the RGB lights paint their skin in shifting hues—purple bleeding into red, then blue. Eunbi’s hoodie’s still bunched up from earlier, showing off that sliver of her stomach, and Somi’s tank top is clinging to her curves, the mask giving her this mysterious, badass vibe. You angle the camera down, framing them just right, their faces filling the shot.

Eunbi kicks things off, leaning into the mic moment like she’s still streaming to her chat. “Hey, everyone,” she says, all bright and charismatic, her voice slipping into that flirty, playful tone she’s perfected. “Got a special treat for you tonight. Say hi to my gorgeous friend here—she’s joining us for some fun.” She gestures at Somi, who flashes a wicked grin, lips glossy and parted. “Hey, y’all,” Somi says, her voice low and raspy, dripping with excitement. “I’m fucking pumped to be here—let’s make it a good one.” She doesn’t say her name, obviously—Eunbi’s keeping it vague, letting the mask and the vibe do the talking. The camera catches every detail: the way Eunbi’s hair falls messily over her shoulders, the slight sheen of sweat on Somi’s collarbone, the way their knees press into the carpet as they shift closer to you.

Eunbi’s hands move first, reaching for your belt with this practiced ease. The metal clinks as she unbuckles it, her fingers brushing your stomach through your shirt, sending a jolt straight to your dick. Somi’s right there with her, tugging at the button of your jeans, popping it open with a little flick. “Teamwork makes the dream work,” Somi mutters under her breath, and Eunbi snickers, the sound all throaty and real. They yank your jeans down together, a little rougher than necessary, the denim scraping against your thighs as it slides off. Your boxers go next—Somi hooks her fingers in the waistband and pulls, slow and deliberate, like she’s unwrapping something she’s been dying to see. Your cock springs free, already half-hard from all the buildup, and the air feels cool against your skin for about two seconds before their eyes lock on it.

Somi lets out this low whistle, leaning in closer, the mask making her look like some sexy bandit sizing up her prize. “Holy shit, dude,” she says, voice full of awe. “This thing’s even bigger in real life. The videos don’t do it justice.” Eunbi smirks, proud as hell, like she’s showing off her favorite toy. “Told you he’s packing,” she says to Somi, then glances up at you through the lens, winking. Your grip on the camera tightens, trying to keep it steady as they both reach out. Eunbi’s hand wraps around the base, her fingers warm and firm, while Somi’s slides up the side, her touch lighter, almost teasing. They stroke you together, not hard, just enough to make your breath hitch. The sensation’s fucking wild—two different rhythms, two different grips, and you’re already fighting to keep your shit together.

Eunbi leans in first, her tongue darting out to lick the tip, slow and wet, leaving a shiny trail that catches the light. She’s got this way of flicking her tongue that’s pure torture, and you angle the camera down to catch it—her lips hovering, her eyes flicking up at you through her lashes. Somi’s watching her like she’s taking notes, then dives in on the other side, her lips brushing the shaft, soft and sloppy. Her mask shifts a little as she moves, but it stays put, the black fabric stark against her flushed cheeks. They’re working you together now, mouths sliding over your cock like they’re sharing a goddamn meal. Eunbi’s sucking lightly on the head, her cheeks hollowing out, while Somi’s tongue traces a slow, lazy line up the side, her breath hot against your skin. You groan low in your throat, the sound rumbling out before you can stop it, and Eunbi hums in response, the vibration hitting hard.

Somi pulls back for a sec, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning like a kid who just stole candy. “This is fun as hell,” she says, voice all husky, then dives back in, her lips wrapping around the middle while Eunbi works the tip. They’re trading off, syncing up without even trying—Eunbi’s hand stays at the base, pumping slow and steady, while Somi’s tongue swirls around the shaft, messy and wet. Spit’s starting to drip, pooling on the carpet between your legs, and you can hear it—the slick, sloppy sounds mixing with their little gasps and moans. The camera’s catching everything: the way Eunbi’s hair sticks to her neck, the way Somi’s tank top rides up, showing off the curve of her hips, the way your cock glistens under the lights, slick with their spit.

Eunbi pulls off, her lips shiny, and looks up at you—or the camera, really—grinning like she knows she’s driving you insane. “Having fun up there, babe?” she asks, all coy, her hand still stroking you, keeping the pressure just right. Somi doesn’t stop, her mouth sliding lower, kissing and sucking along the base, her mask slipping a tiny bit and you catch a flash of her eyes—dark, wild, loving every second of this. You grunt out a “Fuck yeah,” voice rougher than you mean it to be, and they both laugh, the sound muffled against your skin. Eunbi leans back in, her tongue flattening against the underside, dragging up slow and deliberate, while Somi’s lips meet hers at the top, their mouths brushing each other as they take you in. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and so fucking hot you’re gripping the camera like it’s your lifeline.

Somi’s hand slips under your shirt, nails raking lightly over your stomach, and Eunbi’s free hand digs into your thigh, grounding herself as she works you harder. They’re all in—knees pressed into the carpet, bodies leaning into you, mouths and hands everywhere. The camera shakes a little in your grip, but you keep it focused, the POV lens is drinking it all in, every filthy detail lit up by the shifting RGB glow—purple washing over their skin, then red, then blue, like some horny neon fever dream. Eunbi’s on her knees, her messy bun bouncing slightly as she moves, and Somi’s right there with her, that black masquerade mask sitting snug over her eyes. It’s one of those fancy ones, like you’d see at a ball—curved and sleek, hugging her face, with little swirls cut into the edges that make her look like some mysterious seductress.

Eunbi shifts lower, her hands gripping your thighs as she ducks her head and goes for your balls. Her tongue’s hot and wet, lapping at one, then the other, slow and sloppy like she’s savoring every second. She sucks one into her mouth, gentle at first, then harder, her cheeks hollowing out as she pulls just enough to make your breath catch. The sensation’s insane—warm and tight, her spit dripping down. She’s humming against you, this low, needy sound that vibrates straight up your spine, and you can’t help but groan, the noise rough and loud in the quiet room. The camera catches her from above—her hoodie’s still on, bunched up around her shoulders, and her eyes flick up at you through the lens, dark and teasing, like she knows she’s got you by the balls, literally.

Somi’s up higher, her hands wrapped around your cock, stroking it slow and deliberate while her mouth does the real damage. She’s in love with it, you can tell—her lips slide over the shaft, kissing it like it’s her favorite thing in the world, her tongue darting out to trace every inch. She’s messy with it, spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin as she works you. That masquerade mask makes her look dangerous, the black fabric stark against her flushed skin, and when she pulls back for a sec, panting, she grins up at you. “Fuck, this thing’s a masterpiece,” she says, before diving back in. Her tongue swirls around the tip, flicking over the slit, and your hips jerk involuntarily, pushing deeper into her mouth. She moans around you, encouraging it, her hands pumping the base while her lips suck you down, wet and tight.

They’re a fucking team, trading off like they’ve got a playbook. Eunbi’s still sucking your balls, her tongue rolling over them now, sloppy and warm, while Somi’s got your cock in a death grip with her mouth. Then they switch it up—Eunbi pulls back, licking her lips, and Somi dips lower, kissing along the base while Eunbi’s hand takes over the shaft, stroking you fast and slick. The camera’s shaking a little in your hands, but you keep it locked on them, catching the way Somi’s mask slips just a fraction, and the way Eunbi’s hoodie rides up, flashing more of her stomach. It’s raw, chaotic, and so damn hot your head’s spinning.

Then they do something that nearly fucking kills you. Eunbi slides up, her mouth brushing the side of your cock, and Somi leans in from the other side. They sandwich the tip between their lips, kissing each other around it, their tongues tangling as they slide over you. It’s wet, messy, and loud—spit everywhere, their moans mixing with the slick sounds of their mouths working you over. Eunbi’s tongue flicks against Somi’s, then against you, and Somi’s sucking hard on one side while Eunbi mirrors her on the other. Your cock’s trapped in this perfect, sloppy vise, and you can’t hold back the moan that rips out of you—low and guttural, echoing in the room. The camera catches it all: their lips pressed together, your tip caught in the middle, glistening with their spit, the RGB lights painting their faces in streaks of color.

They keep going, relentless, their mouths sliding back and forth, trading sides, kissing around you like they’re starving for it. Eunbi’s hands dig into your thighs, nails leaving little half-moons in your skin, while Somi’s fingers tease the base of your cock, brushing your balls every now and then, sending jolts through you. Your dick’s soaked now, dripping with their spit, slick and shiny under the lights. Eunbi pulls back for a sec, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, her eyes glinting up at you. “Look at that,” she says, smirking, nodding at your cock like it’s some kind of trophy. Somi giggles, her mask shifting as she leans back, her chin wet and gleaming. “Yeah, we fucking drenched it,” she says, sounding proud as hell.

Eunbi sits back on her heels, grabbing the hem of her hoodie and yanking it over her head in one smooth motion. It lands in a heap on the floor, leaving her in that white tank top, the fabric stretched tight over her tits, puffy nipples poking through like she’s been hard this whole time. Somi follows suit, peeling off her tank top and tossing it aside—her massive chest bounces free, skin flushed from the heat of the room, and she adjusts her masquerade mask like it’s a crown, smirking at you through the lens. They’re both kneeling there, their bodies glistening with a light sheen of sweat, ready to take it up a notch. You lower the camera slightly, framing their tits in the shot, knowing damn well they’re about to give you a titjob that’ll blow your fucking mind.

Then Eunbi’s hands move to the bottom of her white tank top, fingers curling under the hem. She peels it up slow, teasing, like she’s putting on a show just for you—and the lens. The fabric stretches, then slides over her head, her massive tits bouncing free as she tosses it aside. They’re fucking huge, round and heavy, nipples hard and pink against her pale skin, catching the shifting RGB lights—purple, red, blue—like some kind of pornographic kaleidoscope.

Eunbi shifts closer, her knees digging into the carpet, and she leans in, cupping her tits with both hands. “Ready for this, babe?” she asks, eyes locked on yours through the camera. You nod, swallowing hard, your cock twitching at the sight of her. “Fuck yeah, I am,” you say, voice rough, already imagining how those soft, warm mounds are gonna feel. She smirks, adjusting her grip, and presses her tits together, sliding your slick, spit-soaked dick right into the valley between them. The first touch is insane—soft, plush, and hot, her skin wrapping around you like a glove. It's a feeling that always surprises you, no matter how many times you've experienced it. She starts moving, slow at first, bouncing her tits up and down, the friction building as your cock slides through. It’s wet from all their spit, slick and slippery, and the sound—fuck, it’s filthy, this soft, squishing noise every time she squeezes you tighter.

“Goddamn, babe,” you groan, angling the camera to catch every bounce, the way her tits jiggle and press against each other, trapping you in that perfect pocket. She giggles, low and dirty, loving how wrecked you sound. “Feels good, huh? My big fucking tits all over your dick?” she teases, picking up the pace, her nipples brushing your stomach every time she dips down. You’re losing it a little, hips twitching up to meet her, and she moans softly, getting off on how much you’re into it. “Yeah, babe, fuck my tits,” she murmurs, squeezing them harder, her thumbs brushing her own nipples like she’s teasing herself too. The camera’s catching it all—her flushed cheeks, the way her hair swings, the little beads of sweat starting to dot her chest. You’re in heaven, no lie, those massive, soft mounds swallowing your cock like they were made for it.

Somi’s watching from the side, her own hands drifting to her chest, kneading her tits absentmindedly as she bites her lip. “Shit, that’s hot,” she says, voice all breathy, her mask slipping a tiny bit as she leans closer. Eunbi glances over at her, smirking, and slows down, letting your cock slip free for a second. “Your turn,” she says, scooting over, her tits still heaving from the effort. Somi doesn’t hesitate—she shuffles into place, long legs folding under her, and grabs her own breasts, pushing them together. Hers are just as big as Eunbi’s, maybe a little perkier, with darker nipples that stand out against her flushed skin. She wraps them around your cock, and fuck, it’s a different kind of tight—firmer, her skin cooler from the air, but still so damn soft. She starts moving, quick and eager, her tits bouncing hard as she slides you in and out.

“Holy fuck,” you groan, head tipping back for a sec before you force yourself to focus on the camera again. The POV shot’s gold—her masked face tilted down, lips parted as she pants, blonde hair swinging, and those huge tits working you like a machine. “You like this, huh?” she says, grinning up at you, her voice all teasing and sharp. “My fat tits fucking your big dick? Better than you dreamed, right?” She squeezes tighter, and you hiss, the pressure insane, your cock disappearing completely between her mounds every time she pushes up. “Fuck yes,” you manage, voice tight, “you’re killing me with those things.” She laughs, throaty and smug, and leans forward more, letting the tip of your cock peek out at the top, brushing her chin. “Good,” she says, “I wanna ruin you for anything else.”

Eunbi’s shifted to the side now, kneeling close, her eyes glued to Somi’s tits bouncing around your cock. She’s biting her lip hard, one hand slipping under her shorts, rubbing herself through the fabric. “Fuck, babe,” she breathes, voice shaky with heat, “you look so good like that. Somi’s tits are eating you alive.” She’s horny as hell, you can tell—her cheeks are red, her breathing’s all over the place, and the way she’s touching herself is making her squirm. “You loving this?” she asks, leaning in to kiss your neck, her lips hot and wet against your skin. “Yeah, fuck, I’m losing my mind,” you say as Somi keeps going, her pace relentless. Eunbi moans against your neck, her hand moving faster under her shorts. “God, I love watching her fuck you with those,” she whispers, her tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

Somi slows down a little, teasing now, letting your cock slide out halfway before burying it back between her tits. “You’re so fucking hard,” she says, looking up at you through that mask, her eyes dark and wild. “These big-ass tits making you crazy?” She jiggles them a little, playful, and you can’t help but laugh, wrecked as you are. “Yeah, Somi, they’re fucking unreal,” you say, and she beams, proud as hell, picking up the pace again. The camera’s shaking more now, your hands unsteady, but you keep it on her—those bouncing mounds, the way her skin glistens with sweat, the little smirk she throws you every time she catches you staring.

Eunbi’s practically panting now, her hand moving in tight little circles under her shorts, her other hand reaching out to grab Somi’s arm. “Switch back,” she says, voice needy, almost desperate. Somi pulls back, letting your cock spring free, slick and shiny from all the spit and sweat, and Eunbi’s on it in a heartbeat. She presses her tits around you again, faster this time, her movements hungry. “Missed this,” she mutters, her voice all breathy as she works you, her nipples dragging against your stomach. “Love feeling you between my tits, babe.” You groan, the heat of her skin driving you wild. “Fuck, you’re so good at this,” you say, and she grins, all smug and turned on, her tits squeezing you tighter.

Somi’s not just watching anymore—she’s leaning in, whispering in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “Bet you could fuck these tits all day, huh? Me and her fighting over your dick like this?” Her hand brushes your thigh, teasing close to your balls, and you’re so wound up it’s a miracle you’re still holding the camera. “Yeah, shit, I could,” you say, voice cracking, and they both laugh, loving how gone you are. Eunbi slows down, dragging it out, her tits sliding up and down so slow you can feel every inch of her. “You’re ours tonight,” she says, looking up at you, her eyes dark and possessive through the lens. Somi chimes in, “Damn right,” her fingers tracing little patterns on your leg, keeping you on edge.

It’s too much—those two massive pairs of tits, the teasing, the way they’re feeding off each other’s energy. You’re drowning in it, loving every second of their soft, warm skin all over you, their dirty talk bouncing around your head like a fucking echo chamber. The camera’s still rolling, capturing every bounce, every squeeze, and you’re just trying to hang on, lost in the best kind of chaos.

But Eunbi got this sixth sense about you—knows you’re teetering right on the edge, your breaths getting ragged, your grip on the camera tightening like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. She stops slowly, deliberate and torturous, letting your dick slip out inch by inch until it’s just resting between her breasts, throbbing against her warm skin. “Alright, babe, think we’ve teased you enough with these,” she says, giving her tits one last squeeze around you before letting go. Your cock springs free, hard as steel, and she sits back on her heels, smirking up at you through the lens ‘cause she knows she’s got you on the edge.

You clear your throat and stand up, legs a little shaky from the buildup. “Alright, ladies, on all fours.” Eunbi and Somi don’t even blink—they’re already peeling off what’s left of their clothes. Eunbi kicks her soft black shorts to the floor, revealing those curvy hips and thick thighs, her pussy glistening under the lights. Somi shimmies out of her tiny pink shorts, tossing them aside with a flick of her long legs, her tighter, rounder ass popping as she stretches out. They scramble onto the bed, giggling and shoving each other playfully, then settle on all fours, side by side, asses up and ready. The mattress creaks under their weight, and you adjust the camera angle again, ready to record every damn second of this.

You step closer, taking it all in. Somi’s taller, her body more defined—long, lean legs leading up to that firm, sculpted ass, tight and high like she’s been squatting for years. Her pussy’s peeking out, wet and pink, framed by those sharp tan lines from the gym. Eunbi’s softer, all curves and plushness, her ass rounder and juicier, jiggling a little as she shifts her weight. Her skin’s pale and smooth, her pussy just as soaked, lips puffy and begging for it. You can’t resist—your free hand swings down, smacking Somi’s ass first, the crack echoing in the room. She yelps, then moans, arching her back more. Then you slap Eunbi’s, harder than you meant to, and she gasps, her flesh rippling under your palm. “Fuck, babe,” she mutters, glancing back at you with a smirk.

“So,” you say, voice rough, camera panning over their perfect lineup, “who’s first?” Eunbi tilts her head, her messy bun wobbling as she nods toward Somi. “Guest gets the honors,” she says, all generous and teasing, her eyes flicking to Somi’s ass like she’s proud to share. Somi wiggles her hips, looking back at you through the mask, grinning. “Yeah, come on, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.” You don’t need more invitation than that. You step up behind Somi, lining yourself up, the camera in one hand catching the way her pussy shines, already dripping from the buildup. You grab her hip with your free hand, steadying her, and slide the tip of your cock along her slit—slow, teasing, feeling how wet she is. She shivers, pushing back against you, impatient. “Fuck, don’t play with me,” she groans, and you laugh, low and dirty, before pushing in.

Her pussy’s tight, hot, clamping around you as you sink in deep, inch by inch. The stretch is fucking unreal, her walls gripping you like a vise, and you groan loud, the sound bouncing off the walls. The camera’s right there, POV perfect, catching the way her ass presses against your hips, the little dimples in her lower back flexing as she adjusts. “Holy shit,” you mutter, pulling back slow, watching your cock slide out, slick and shiny, before slamming back in. She moans, sharp and needy, her elbows digging into the bed as she rocks back to meet you. “Yeah, fuck me hard,” she says, and you oblige, picking up the pace, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Her ass jiggles with every thrust, tight and round, and you smack it again, leaving a red handprint that the camera zooms in on. She’s loud—gasping, cursing, loving every second—and you’re losing yourself in it, hips snapping, the wet squelch of her pussy driving you wild.

Eunbi’s right next to her, watching, her own ass still up, swaying a little like she’s jealous. “Fuck, babe, you’re killing her,” she says, laughing, but there’s heat in her voice, her fingers twitching like she’s dying to touch herself. You pull out of Somi after a few more thrusts, her pussy clenching around nothing as you leave, and she whines, glancing back with a pout. “Don’t stop,” she says, but you’re already moving, shifting over to Eunbi. You know this pussy—soft, warm, familiar—but it’s no less fucking amazing. You line up, camera steady, and push in slow, savoring the way she opens for you, wet and ready. “Oh my god,” she moans, head dropping to the bed, her voice muffled against the sheets. She’s softer inside, her walls fluttering around you, and you grab her hips, pulling her back onto you hard. The camera catches it—the way her ass ripples, the curve of her spine as she arches, her pussy swallowing you whole.

“Fuck, Eunbi, you feel so good,” you say, voice gritty, and she hums in response, pushing back against you, matching your rhythm. Her pussy’s sloppy wet, the sound louder than with Somi, all slick and messy as you fuck her deep. She’s quieter than Somi but just as into it, her breaths hitching every time you bottom out, her fingers clawing at the sheets. You smack her ass too, lighter this time, and she giggles through a moan, glancing back at you. “Harder, babe,” she says, and you give it to her, slamming in so the bed shakes, her curves bouncing under your hand. The camera’s got it all—her soft flesh, the way her pussy grips you, the little beads of sweat rolling down her back.

You can’t choose, though—why should you? You pull out of Eunbi, her groan matching Somi’s earlier one, and slide back into Somi, quick and rough. “Fuck, yes,” Somi gasps, her tighter pussy squeezing you as you pick up where you left off, pounding her hard. The switch is seamless, the camera panning between them as you fuck a little of each, back and forth. Somi’s ass slaps against you, firm and loud, then Eunbi’s softer curves take over, her pussy sucking you in deeper. You’re grunting now, lost in the rhythm, the way their bodies feel so different but so fucking perfect. “You’re both insane,” you say, laughing through a groan, and Somi throws back, “Yeah, and you love it, don’t you?” Eunbi chimes in, “He fucking lives for it—look at him go.”

You keep going, a few thrusts in Somi—her tight, athletic heat—then back to Eunbi’s softer, wetter grip, the camera catching every switch, every angle. Somi’s moaning loud, her mask slipping a bit, while Eunbi’s quieter, panting into the bed, her ass wiggling every time you leave her. You slap both their asses again, just because you can, and they yelp in sync, then laugh, egging you on. “Which pussy you like more, huh?” Somi teases, glancing back, and Eunbi lifts her head, smirking. “Yeah, babe, pick a favorite.” You just groan, shaking your head, too caught up to answer, fucking them both like you’re trying to memorize every inch.

You’re deep in the groove now, the camera trembling in your hand as you pull out of Eunbi’s pussy, her soft, wet heat clinging to you like it doesn’t want to let go. She’s panting into the sheets, ass still up, all plush and inviting, and you’ve got an idea brewing. You shift your grip on the camera, angling it to catch the way her curves glisten under the RGB lights—purple fading into red, her skin slick with sweat. “Babe,” you say, “gonna switch it up.” She glances back, her messy bun half-undone, strands sticking to her neck, and smirks like she knows what’s coming. You line up, the tip of your cock brushing her tight little asshole, and push in slow. She moans loud, this deep, throaty sound that hits you right in the gut, her body tensing for a split second before she relaxes into it. She’s used to this—loves it, even—and you can tell by how easily she takes you, her ass stretching around you, hot and tight as fuck.

“Goddamn, princess,” you grunt, sinking in deeper, the camera catching every inch as you bury yourself in her. Her ass jiggles with the intrusion, soft and round, and she arches her back more, pushing back against you like she’s begging for it. You start fucking her hard, no warm-up needed—she’s already loose enough, her hole gripping you like a vice as you slam into her. The sound’s filthy—skin slapping skin, her moans bouncing off the walls, the bed creaking under the force. “Fuck, yes, babe, pound my ass,” she gasps, her voice all wrecked, fingers clawing at the sheets. You grab her hip with your free hand, digging in, keeping her steady as you rail her, the camera shaking but locked on her bouncing ass, the way it swallows your cock over and over. The RGB lights paint her in streaks of color, her pale skin glowing, sweat beading down her spine.

Somi’s right next to her, still on all fours, her tighter, rounder ass swaying a little like she’s waiting her turn. She’s watching you fuck Eunbi, her masked face turned just enough to catch the action, and you can see the jealousy flaring in her posture—shoulders tense, hips twitching. “Hey,” she says, voice sharp and pouty, “don’t hog him. I want that too.” She wiggles her ass at you, firm and perky, the tan lines from her shorts making it pop even more under the lights. Eunbi laughs through a moan, glancing at Somi. “Greedy bitch,” she teases, but there’s no malice—she’s too caught up in getting her ass pounded. You pull out of Eunbi, slow and deliberate, her hole winking at you as you leave, and she groans, half-protesting, half-catching her breath. “Don’t worry,” you say, smirking, “plenty to go around.”

You shift over to Somi, camera in hand, lining up behind her. Her pussy’s still dripping from earlier, but you’re aiming higher now. You slap her ass first—harder than you did Eunbi’s—and she yelps, then giggles, arching her back to give you better access. “Come on, fuck my ass already,” she says, all impatient and bratty, glancing back through that masquerade mask, her eyes dark and daring. You press the tip of your cock against her asshole, and she tenses, not as used to it as Eunbi, but she’s horny enough from everything else that it’s not a total fight. You push in, slow at first, and she hisses through her teeth, her tight ring stretching around you. “Fuck, that’s big,” she mutters, voice tight, but she doesn’t pull away—instead, she rocks back a little, testing it. You groan, the heat and squeeze insane, tighter than her pussy by a mile, and start moving, shallow thrusts to get her used to it.

“Shit, Somi, you’re so fucking tight,” you say, voice gritty, the camera zoomed in on her ass as you sink deeper. She moans, high and needy, her long legs trembling as she adjusts, her firm cheeks jiggling with every thrust. You pick up the pace, fucking her harder, and she’s louder now, gasping and cursing. “Yeah, fuck me, wreck my ass,” she pants, her bratty tone melting into something desperate. The camera catches it all—her toned back flexing, the way her ass bounces against your hips, the sharp contrast of her tight hole gripping you compared to Eunbi’s softer give. You smack her ass again, leaving another red mark, and she squeals, loving it, pushing back harder.

Eunbi’s not just watching anymore—she’s shifted closer, her hand slipping between her legs, rubbing herself as she stares at you railing Somi. “Fuck, babe, you’re destroying her,” she says, voice breathy and hot, her fingers moving fast. “Looks so good.” You grin, too caught up to reply, and pull out of Somi after a few more thrusts, her ass clenching as you leave, a little gape left behind. She whines, glancing back, but you’re already moving back to Eunbi. “Your turn again,” you say, sliding into her ass easy this time, her body welcoming you like an old friend. She moans loud, her softer curves shaking as you fuck her hard, the camera panning between her jiggling ass and Somi’s tighter frame next to her.

You’re in a rhythm now—fucking Eunbi’s ass for a few deep, brutal thrusts, then switching back to Somi’s, keeping them both on edge. Eunbi’s looser, her hole taking you with this sloppy, wet ease, her moans low and guttural as you pound her. “Fuck, I love your cock in my ass,” she groans, her voice muffled against the bed, her hips rolling back to meet you. Then you’re back in Somi, her tighter grip making you work for it, her gasps sharp and needy as you stretch her out again. “Harder, fuck, make it hurt,” she begs, and you oblige, slamming into her so the bed shakes, her firm ass rippling with every hit. The camera’s catching everything—the way Eunbi’s softer flesh bounces versus Somi’s tight, athletic jiggle, the sweat dripping down their backs, the little red marks blooming on their skin from your hands.

They’re egging each other on now, too. “Look at her take it,” Eunbi says, glancing at Somi, her voice all husky as she rubs herself faster. Somi fires back, “Yeah, well, your ass is swallowing him whole, slut.” They laugh, breathless and wrecked, loving the competition. You keep switching—Eunbi’s plush heat, Somi’s vise-like grip—your hips snapping hard, the room filling with the sound of flesh smacking flesh, their moans blending into this horny symphony. The RGB lights keep shifting, painting their bodies in wild colors, Somi’s mask glinting every time she looks back, Eunbi’s hair a tangled mess swinging with every thrust. You’re grunting, sweating, too caught up to care how shaky the camera gets, just focused on fucking these two perfect asses like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

But viewers need more. A few more hard pumps and you slow down, giving her ass one last firm squeeze, your fingers sinking into the flesh. “Fuck, babe,” you say, voice rough and winded, “time for you to ride me now.” She moans, low and needy, her head dipping as she catches her breath, her messy bun swaying. You pull out slow, her hole clenching around nothing as you leave, and she glances back with a smirk, knowing what’s next. You shift, placing the camera on the tripod on the side of the bed for a new angle. You go back to bed, lying flat on your back, head propped on a pillow, cock standing tall and slick under the RGB lights. The bed’s a mess, sheets twisted, sweat stains blooming, but you don’t care. Somi and Eunbi are already moving, giggling like they’re plotting something dirty, their naked bodies glowing in the shifting colors—purple, red, blue.

Somi’s first—she straddles you quick, her long legs folding under her, that tight, round ass hovering over your hips. “My turn to fuck you silly,” she says, voice all bratty and hot, grabbing your cock with one hand and lining it up. She sinks down fast, her pussy swallowing you whole, tight and wet and so fucking good you groan loud, hands flying to her hips. She starts riding you hard, no buildup, just straight to it—her ass slapping against your thighs, her massive tits bouncing like crazy, the motion wild and free. The camera’s off to the side, catching her from an angle—those firm mounds jiggling, her toned stomach flexing as she rolls her hips, her blonde hair swinging loose. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she moans, tossing her head back, her mask glinting in the light. “Filling me up—shit, I love this.”

Eunbi’s not just watching—she’s all over you, her hands sliding across your chest, nails raking over your abs like she’s marking territory. “God, look at you,” she murmurs, leaning down, her tongue flicking out to tease your nipple. She sucks it hard, teeth grazing the edge, and you hiss, the sensation sharp and electric. Her fingers dig into your sides, her curvy body pressed close, her breath hot against your skin. “You liking this, babe?” she asks, voice dripping with heat, her lips brushing your ear. “Somi’s tight little pussy fucking you good?” She’s playing with you, egging you on, her hands roaming while Somi keeps bouncing, the slap of skin loud and rhythmic. “Fuck yeah,” you grunt, voice tight, “she’s killing me.” Eunbi laughs, sucking your nipple again, her tongue swirling as Somi rides you harder, her moans getting louder, her tits practically hypnotizing with every bounce.

Somi leans forward, hands braced on your chest, her nails digging in as she grinds down, her pussy clenching around you. “Shit, your cock’s perfect,” she pants, smirking through the mask. “Eunbi’s lucky she gets this all the time—bet she brags about it.” Eunbi pulls back from your nipple, grinning up at Somi. “Damn right I do,” she says, all smug. “He fucks me so good—wait ‘til you see him wreck me next.” Somi laughs, breathless, her hips slamming down faster. “Oh, I’m watching, bitch—gonna steal some moves.” Their dirty talk’s bouncing around you, filthy and raw, and you’re just soaking it in, hands gripping Somi’s hips tighter as she rides you like she’s trying to break you.

Then it’s Eunbi’s turn. Somi slows down, reluctantly climbing off, her pussy leaving you slick and throbbing as she flops beside you, panting. “Your girlfriend’s up,” she says, smirking, brushing her sweaty hair back. Eunbi straddles you quick, her softer, curvier frame settling over your hips, her big tits swaying as she gets comfy. She grabs your cock, guiding it to her pussy, and sinks down slow, letting out this long, shaky moan as you fill her up. “Fuck, babe,” she breathes, her voice all soft and needy, “always so good.” She starts riding you, her movements smoother than Somi’s, her hips rolling in deep, lazy circles that make her massive tits bounce, heavy and full. The camera’s still catching it—the way they jiggle, her nipples hard and pink, her pale skin glowing under the lights.

Somi’s not idle—she shifts closer, her hand sliding up Eunbi’s thigh, then leaning in to suck on one of her bouncing tits. Her lips wrap around the nipple, loud and wet, sucking hard as Eunbi moans sharper, her rhythm faltering for a sec. “Oh fuck,” Eunbi gasps, her hands tangling in Somi’s blonde hair, pulling her closer. Somi pulls back just enough to talk, her voice muffled against Eunbi’s skin. “Fuck your girlfriend, dude,” she says, glancing at you with that masked grin, “she’s dying for it.” Then she dives back in, sucking harder, her tongue flicking over Eunbi’s nipple as Eunbi rides you faster, her pussy squeezing you tight.

“Goddamn, babe,” you groan, hands gripping her hips, feeling the softer give of her flesh compared to Somi’s firmness. “You’re so fucking wet—love watching you bounce on me.” She smirks down at you, her eyes half-lidded, all lust and heat. “Yeah? Love your cock splitting me open,” she says, Somi’s right there, her mouth switching to Eunbi’s other breast, leaving the first shiny with spit. “Shit, look at her go,” Somi mutters between sucks, “fucking your girl like a pro.” Eunbi laughs, breathless, grinding down harder. “He’s mine, but I’ll share—just keep sucking my tits like that.”

“You’re so fucking hot riding him,” Somi says, pulling back to slap Eunbi’s ass lightly, making it jiggle more. “Bet he’s losing his mind.” Eunbi fires back, “He fucking loves it—look at his face.” And she’s right—you’re gritting your teeth, groaning, caught up in the heat of her pussy, the bounce of her tits, Somi’s mouth all over her. Your hands roam, sliding up Eunbi’s sides, brushing Somi’s arm, keeping them both close as they tease and fuck you senseless. Then Eunbi slows down, rolling her hips a little more on your cock before pulling out and passing the turn to her friend.

Somi’s still buzzing from her last ride, her skin flushed and sweaty as she climbs back onto your lap, that mischievous glint in her eyes flashing through the masquerade mask. “Yes! My turn again,” she says, grabbing your cock with a quick, firm grip. “And this time, I’m taking it in my ass—I fucking loved that shit earlier.” She’s not messing around, already lining you up, the tip brushing her tight hole. You groan as she sinks down slow, her ass stretching around you, hotter and tighter than before, her long legs trembling as she adjusts. “Fuck, yes,” she hisses, tossing her blonde hair back, her firm, round ass pressing against your hips as she takes you all the way in. The sensation’s unreal—her walls clamping down hard, her moans sharp and needy as she starts moving, slow at first, testing it, then picking up speed. Her massive tits bounce with every roll of her hips, the slap of her skin against yours loud in the room, the RGB lights painting her in wild streaks of color.

You’re lying flat, hands gripping her thighs, but your mind’s already racing ahead. You glance at Eunbi, who’s kneeling beside you, her curvy body glistening, her pussy still dripping from riding you earlier. “Babe,” you say, voice rough, “sit on my face—I wanna eat you out.” Her eyes light up, a dirty smirk spreading across her lips. “Fuck, yes,” she says, scrambling over quick, her thick thighs straddling your head. The camera on the tripod next to the bed is angled masterfully—a perfect side shot of Somi riding your cock in her ass and Eunbi lowering her pussy onto your mouth. The red light blinks on, capturing everything as Eunbi settles in, her wet, puffy lips brushing your mouth, her scent hitting you hard—sweet and musky, all sex and heat. You dive in, tongue lapping at her folds, tasting her, and she moans loud, her hands bracing on your chest as she grinds down.

Somi’s riding you harder now, her ass bouncing fast, the tight grip driving you wild as you thrust up to meet her. “Shit, your cock’s stretching me so good,” she pants, leaning forward, her tits swaying with every move. Eunbi’s rocking her hips on your face, her juices coating your chin, and you suck on her clit, making her gasp, her fingers digging into your skin. “Fuck, babe, eat me—don’t stop,” she groans. The camera’s got it all—Somi’s toned frame slamming down on you, her ass jiggling, Eunbi’s softer curves grinding on your mouth, her big tits bouncing as she rides your face. The side angle’s perfect, the lights shifting from purple to red, their bodies glowing like some X-rated art piece.

Then it gets hotter—Somi leans forward, grabbing Eunbi’s face, and they crash their lips together, kissing sloppy and deep. Their tongues tangle, moans muffled against each other’s mouths, and their hands are all over each other’s tits, squeezing hard. Somi’s fingers pinch Eunbi’s nipples, tugging them just enough to make her whimper into the kiss, while Eunbi’s hands cup Somi’s bouncing mounds, kneading them rough. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” Somi mutters between kisses, her voice wrecked, her ass still slamming down on your cock. “Love watching you ride his face,” she adds, smirking against Eunbi’s lips. Eunbi pulls back just enough to gasp, “Yeah? Love how he’s fucking your tight little ass—slut.” They laugh, all breathy and lust-drunk, diving back into the kiss, their hands groping harder, their moans syncing up.

You’re in deep—Somi’s ass is relentless, squeezing you with every thrust, her rhythm fast and brutal, her firm cheeks slapping your hips. Your tongue’s buried in Eunbi’s pussy, lapping at her clit, sucking hard, her thighs trembling around your head as she grinds down. “Shit, babe, you’re killing me,” Eunbi moans, her voice hitching, her nails raking across your chest. Somi’s not letting up either, her hips rolling faster, her ass taking you deeper. “Fuck, he’s so big—feels insane,” she groans, glancing down at you, her masked eyes wild with heat. The camera’s catching every second—Somi’s blonde hair swinging, Eunbi’s messy bun bouncing, their tits pressed together as they kiss, the wet sounds of your tongue and Somi’s ass mixing with their gasps and curses.

“Goddamn, you two are filthy,” you mumble into Eunbi’s pussy, your words muffled but enough for them to hear. They break the kiss, laughing, Somi slapping Eunbi’s ass playfully. “Says the guy tongue-deep in his girlfriend while I fuck his cock,” Somi fires back, grinning, her hips grinding down harder, making you groan into Eunbi’s clit. Eunbi shudders, her hands gripping Somi’s shoulders now. “Keep going, babe—fuck, I love your mouth,” she says, her voice all raw and needy, her pussy soaking your face as she rocks faster. Somi leans in again, kissing Eunbi’s neck this time, sucking a little mark there. “He’s fucking you so good with that tongue, huh?” she teases, her hands squeezing Eunbi’s tits again, thumbs flicking her nipples.

Their dirty talk’s bouncing off the walls, all around you—Somi’s bratty edge cutting through Eunbi’s softer, desperate tone. “Shit, Somi, squeeze her harder—she loves that,” you say, pulling back just enough to catch your breath before diving back into Eunbi’s pussy, your tongue circling her clit fast. Somi listens, pinching Eunbi’s nipples rough, and Eunbi yelps, her hips bucking harder on your face. “Fuck, yes—like that,” she gasps, her voice breaking. Somi’s riding you like a damn machine now, her ass slamming down so hard the bed’s creaking loud, her moans turning into sharp little cries. “God, I’m gonna—fuck,” she stutters, her hands braced on your thighs as she grinds down, her ass clenching tight around your cock.

Eunbi’s right there with her, her thighs shaking around your head, her pussy pulsing against your mouth. “Babe, don’t stop—fuck, I’m so close,” she pants, her voice high and frantic, her hands tugging at Somi’s hair now, pulling her back into a messy kiss. Their lips crash together, tongues sloppy, moaning into each other’s mouths as they grope and squeeze, their bodies trembling. You feel it—Somi’s ass tightening hard, Eunbi’s pussy quivering against your tongue—and then they’re both gone, hitting it together. Somi’s hips stutter, her moans turning into a loud, “Fuck, yes!” as she shakes on top of you, her ass gripping you like a vice. Eunbi’s right behind, her thighs clamping down, her juices flooding your mouth as she cries out, “Babe—shit!” her whole body shuddering, her tits bouncing wild as she grinds through it.

The camera’s still rolling, catching it all from that side angle—Somi’s firm frame shaking, Eunbi’s softer curves trembling, their lips locked, hands all over each other’s tits, the RGB lights flashing over their sweaty, spent bodies. They break the kiss, panting hard, laughing through the aftershocks, Somi slumping forward a little, her ass still on you, Eunbi catches her breath while stroking your hair, her pussy still hovering over your mouth. “Fucking hell,” Somi mutters, grinning, “that was insane.” Eunbi nods, breathless, “Best ride ever, babe.” They’re a mess, and you’re right there with them, soaked and grinning.

finally Somi climbs off you, her ass leaving your cock slick and throbbing, and Eunbi slides off your face, her pussy dripping down your chin. You’re sprawled on the bed, chest heaving, the RGB lights pulsing over their flushed, trembling bodies—purple bleeding into red, then blue, like some kind of filthy rave. “Alright, babe,” Eunbi says. “time to make you cum—give us that fucking load.” Somi’s already nodding, her masquerade mask glinting as she brushes her sweaty blonde hair back. “Yeah, dude, we’re draining you dry,” she adds.

You sit up quick, grabbing the camera off the tripod with a shaky hand, flipping it back to POV mode. The little red light is still on, and you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, planting your feet on the carpet. Your cock’s standing tall, slick with their juices, twitching under the lights, and the girls don’t waste a second—they’re on their knees between your legs, a perfect mirrored pair of lust-drunk chaos. Eunbi’s softer, curvier frame presses close on your left, her huge tits brushing your thigh, while Somi’s taller, tighter body slides in on your right, her firm mounds already nudging your skin. They’re a sight—Eunbi’s pale skin glowing, her nipples hard and pink, Somi’s tan lines sharp, her darker nipples perked up, both of them sweaty and glowing, ready to finish you off. You angle the camera down, catching their faces—Eunbi’s sultry smirk, Somi’s masked grin—then lower, framing their tits as they scoot closer.

“Gonna give you the best fucking double boobjob of your life,” Eunbi says, her voice dripping with heat as she cups her tits, squeezing them together. Somi mirrors her, pressing her own boobs tight, her fingers digging into the flesh. “Yeah, these big-ass tits are gonna milk you stupid,” she chimes in, smirking up at you through the mask. They slide in sync, each pair of breasts hugging one side of your cock—Eunbi’s soft, plush mounds on the left, Somi’s firmer, perkier ones on the right. It’s a goddamn dream, your cock swallowed whole between them, the heat and pressure insane as they start moving. They bounce together, slow at first, finding a rhythm—Eunbi’s tits jiggling more, Somi’s staying tight and controlled, the contrast driving you fucking wild. The camera’s catching it all—the way your cock disappears between their sweaty, bouncing flesh, the little beads of sweat rolling down their chests, the wet squish every time they press tighter.

“Fuck, look at that,” Somi mutters, glancing down at your cock sandwiched between them. “Our tits are eating you alive—bet you’re dying to blow all over us.” Eunbi laughs, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. “Come on, babe, give it to us—paint these fat fucking tits with your cum,” she teases, squeezing her mounds harder around you, her nipples brushing your shaft. You groan, your hands gripping the camera tighter as they work you, their movements syncing up—up and down, slow then fast, their spit and sweat making it slick and messy. “Goddamn, you’re so hard,” Somi says, her tone needy, almost whining, “fucking love feeling you throb between my boobs—cum for us, please.” Eunbi leans in closer, her breath hot against your cock as it peeks out the top. “Yeah, we’re your dirty little whores—begging for that thick load all over us,” she purrs, her eyes locked on yours through the lens.

They’re relentless, tits sliding faster now, the friction building, your cock trapped in this perfect, sweaty vise. Eunbi’s softer flesh molds around you, Somi’s firmer grip keeping it tight, and the combo’s got your head spinning. “Shit, you two are unreal,” you groan, voice cracking, the camera shaking as you fight to keep it steady. “These tits—fuck, I’m in heaven.” Somi smirks, leaning forward so her chin brushes the tip of your cock on the upstroke. “Heaven, huh? Wait ‘til you cum—gonna drown us in it,” she says, her hands squeezing her tits tighter, making you hiss. Eunbi’s not letting up either, her fingers tweaking her own nipples as she moves, her voice all desperate and slutty. “Come on, babe, give us that fucking cum—we need it, want it all over these big, juicy tits—please, fucking please.”

It hits hard—your whole body locks up, a growl ripping out of you as the first spurt shoots out, thick and hot, splattering across Somi’s right tit, then Eunbi’s left. They moan together, loud and pornographic, their tits still bouncing, milking you as you unload. “Fuck, yes!” Somi cries, her masked eyes wide as cum streaks over her chest, dripping down between her mounds. Eunbi’s gasping too, “Oh my god, babe—keep going, coat us!” and you do—spurt after spurt, ropes of it flying, hitting their tits, their necks, a stray shot catching Somi’s chin, another splashing Eunbi’s collarbone. It’s a fucking mess, white and sticky, pooling between their breasts, dripping down their stomachs, and they don’t stop—still sliding their tits around you, slower now, dragging it out.

“Shit, so much,” Somi mutters, her voice wrecked, her hands smearing the cum over her tits, rubbing it in like lotion as she keeps moving, her nipples shiny with it. Eunbi’s right there with her, her own chest a canvas of your load, her fingers scooping some up, grinning at you through the camera. “Fuck, babe, you hosed us—look at this mess,” she says, her tone all proud and filthy, her tits still pressed against your cock, milking every last twitch. Your eyes roll back, a groan escaping as they keep going, relentless, their soft, cum-soaked flesh squeezing you dry. “Goddamn, this is so fucking good,” you rasp, barely coherent, the overstimulation hitting hard as they wring out every drop, their hands slick, their moans echoing.

Then they shift—Somi leans over, her tongue darting out to lick a streak of cum off Eunbi’s tit, sucking her nipple clean with a wet, sloppy sound. Eunbi gasps, giggling through it, then returns the favor, her lips wrapping around Somi’s cum-covered nipple, sucking loud and messy. “Fuck, you taste good with his cum on you,” Somi mutters, smirking, her hands kneading Eunbi’s chest as she licks more, their tongues swapping your load back and forth. Eunbi moans, “Yeah? Then eat it all, you greedy whore,” and dives back in, her tongue lapping at Somi’s tits, both of them giggling and groaning, lost in the naughtiness. The camera’s catching every second—their slick, shiny bodies, the way they’re devouring each other, cum streaking their lips, dripping off their chins.

Finally, they pull back, panting, grinning, their chests heaving as they kneel there, a cum-drenched mess. Eunbi wipes her mouth, smirking at the camera, and leans into Somi, who adjusts her mask with a playful wink. “Well, fuck, that was wild,” Eunbi says, her voice all warm and cheeky, “hope you guys enjoyed the show—thanks for watching us get fucking wrecked.” Somi nods, giggling, “Yeah, you pervs—hope you came as hard as he did. See ya next time!” She blows a kiss, and Eunbi waves, all cute and bubbly despite the filth, their cum-streaked tits still front and center. “Bye, loves!” Eunbi chirps, reaching over to hit the stop button, ending the video with their naughty, beaming faces etched in the frame. The room falls quiet, just their heavy breaths and your pounding heart.

You slide the camera onto the nightstand, the little red light finally off, and flop back onto the bed, your body still buzzing from the insane high. The sheets are a tangled, sweaty mess beneath you. Eunbi and Somi are already up, giggling like kids caught doing something naughty as they rummage through the drawer by the desk. Eunbi pulls out a pack of wet wipes, ripping it open with her teeth, and tosses a couple to Somi. “Alright, cleanup crew,” she says, stepping over to Somi with a smirk. They start wiping each other down, the wipes gliding over their cum-streaked tits, leaving their skin shiny and clean. Somi’s giggling hard, swiping at Eunbi’s chest, her fingers brushing her nipples just enough to make Eunbi yelp and swat her hand away. “Fuck, stop teasing, you perv,” Eunbi laughs, smearing a wipe across Somi’s collarbone, chasing a stray drip that’s trickled down from her chin.

“So,” Eunbi says, tossing a used wipe into the trash by the bed, “what’d you think, Somi? First time getting railed on camera with us—rate it.” Somi pauses, peeling off the masquerade mask slow, revealing her full face—sharp cheekbones, big eyes, a grin that’s equal parts smug and dazed. She tosses the mask onto the desk, shaking out her blonde hair, and flops onto the bed next to you, her head landing on your chest like it’s her personal pillow. “Fucking loved it,” she says, stretching her long legs out across the sheets. “You two are hot as shit—like, I knew it’d be wild, but that was next-level. My ass is still tingling, and those titjobs? Goddamn.”

Eunbi laughs, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and sliding onto the bed beside you, her warm, soft body pressing against your side. “Glad you had fun, you little freak,” she teases, nudging Somi’s leg with her foot. Then she turns to you, her head resting on your shoulder, her messy bun tickling your neck. “What about you, babe? How was it?” You stretch out, one arm sliding under her, the other resting on Somi’s back as she snuggles closer. “Fucking awesome,” you say, grinning up at the ceiling, your voice still rough from all the groaning. “Hands down the best titjob of my life—those four massive tits all over me? I’m dead, bring me back just to do it again.” Eunbi snickers, her hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach, her nails grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. “Yeah, we fucking killed it,” she says, all proud and smug, her breath warm against your collarbone.

Somi shifts, reaching over to the nightstand and snagging her vape, the sleek little device glinting under the lights as she takes a long pull. She exhales a cloud of sweet-smelling mist—strawberry or some shit—and settles back, her head on your chest again. “You know,” she says, her voice all mellow now, “we should do this again. But like, no cameras next time—just us, fucking for the hell of it. Pure pleasure, no script.” She smirks, blowing another puff of vapor toward the ceiling, the haze curling in the shifting lights. Eunbi hums in agreement, her fingers still wandering over your abs. “Fuck yeah, I’m in,” she says, glancing up at you with a lazy grin. “No pressure, just us getting nasty—sounds perfect, right, babe?” You nod, your hand sliding down her back, resting on the curve of her ass. “Hell yeah, count me in. Cameras are fun, but sometimes you just wanna fuck without the spotlight.”

Somi’s grinning now, taking another hit from the vape, the tip glowing blue as she inhales, then passing it to Eunbi, who waves it off with a laugh. “Nah, thanks—I'm into fitness now,” she says, snuggling closer to you instead. Somi shrugs, keeping it to herself, the faint buzz of the device humming as she lounges there, her long legs dangling off the edge of the bed. The room’s settling into this cozy, post-sex vibe—everyone’s loose, sweaty, satisfied, the tension melted away into something softer. Eunbi’s thumbing through her phone now, her head still on your shoulder, and suddenly her eyes light up, a little gasp slipping out. “Oh shit, check this,” she says, holding the screen up so you and Somi can see. It’s an Instagram DM from Sana—profile pic all sultry and artsy—inviting Eunbi to her podcast later this month. “Hey babe,” it reads, “loved your last vid—wanna come chat on the pod? Yujin told me a lot of good things about you and your boyfriend. You’re blowing up, girl.”

Somi leans over, squinting at the screen, her vape forgotten for a sec. “Wait, who’s Sana?” she asks, her brow furrowing as she props herself up on one elbow, her hair spilling over your chest. Eunbi grins, scrolling up to show Sana’s profile—tons of followers, clips of her podcast episodes, and a few spicy TikToks that Somi instantly recognizes. “Oh, she’s another adult content creator,” Eunbi explains. “Super hot, super chill—does solo stuff mostly, but her podcast’s huge. Talks about the industry, sex, all that jazz. Gets big names on there too.” Somi nods, her eyes lighting up. “Oh fuck, yeah—I’ve seen her on TikTok! That one where she’s in the red sexy dress, vibing to some trap beat? She’s fire.” She takes another pull from the vape, exhaling slow, then grins at you both. “Damn, you guys are legit climbing the ranks—congrats, you sexy fuckers.”

Eunbi’s beaming now, her cheeks pink with pride as she sets her phone down and curls up tighter against you, her hand slipping to rest on your thigh, casual but possessive. “Thanks, babe,” she says to Somi, then looks up at you, her eyes soft but sparkling. “It’s fucking wild, right? Like, we’re actually doing this—people are noticing.” You squeeze her ass, pulling her closer, your chest swelling with that same excitement. “Hell yeah, it’s dope,” you say. “You’re killing it, Eunbi—proud of you.” She smiles, all shy for a sec, then kisses your neck, her lips lingering like she’s savoring it. Somi watches, smirking, blowing a playful ring of vapor your way. “Aw, you two are cute—gross, but cute,” she teases, then settles back, her head on your chest again, the vape humming as she takes another hit.

And you’re lying there, a little smirk on your face, feeling good about finally saying yes to the threesome. At first, you weren’t sure—thought it might be awkward, maybe mess up what you and Eunbi had. But now, with them both next to you, all sweaty and chill after that insane session, you’re glad you went for it. It didn’t feel weird at all—just worked, like they both fit right in. Somi brought the crazy, Eunbi kept it familiar, and it was honestly a blast. No regrets—turned out way better than you figured.

The three of you are just crashed out, all tangled up, The RGB lights keep changing, throwing colors on the ceiling, and it’s a nice wind-down—relaxed, cozy, everyone still feeling it. Eunbi’s messing with your skin, drawing little shapes, Somi’s head’s on your chest, breathing slow, and you’re just taking it in. Eunbi’s rising fame mixes with how wild tonight was. It’s a solid night—real solid—and the idea of doing it again, cameras or not, lingers thick in the air like the sweet haze from Somi’s vape.

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