#aespa reader

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

Synopsis: You’re a quiet bartender in a sleepy coastal town, clinging to the taste of canned fruit and a love that left. Then one night, she walks in mysterious, sharp-eyed, and carrying a silence that mirrors your own. Something shifts. Maybe the past doesn’t end where you thought it did.

Word Count: 10,890

Karina X Male Reader

Tags: Fluff, Angst ( DW: some mention of suicide)

The bar was slow that night. Not dead — just slow enough for the silence to hum beneath the jazz, for your thoughts to drift without completely letting go. The speakers above the shelf played an old instrumental, soft horns bleeding into the still air like a ghost that never quite left. You leaned forward over the counter, elbows resting against the varnish worn down by time and cigarettes and years of spilled drinks no one bothered to clean properly.

Your phone buzzed, the vibration dull against the laminated surface. You glanced down, “Y/N, can you cover my shift? I’ve got some errands to run.”

That was it. No please, no explanation. Your coworker’s voice was casual, almost bored, barely fighting to be heard through the haze of sound between you. You didn’t even bother to reply right away. The jazz solo hit a little louder, the brass echoing inside your skull like a train coming through a tunnel.

You angled the phone closer to your ear, balancing it between your shoulder and cheek while watching a drunk regular wobble on the edge of consciousness. His words had long stopped making sense, a messy blend of nostalgia and complaints about the heat.

“Alright,” you muttered, tone dry, “but I’m telling you — the boss isn’t too happy with how you keep skipping shifts and still get paid. He’s been eyeing your time card like it owes him money.”

There was a click of a lighter from somewhere down the bar. The old man grunted something about the past never being as far away as people think.

“Yeah, yeah,” your coworker cut in, not bothering to defend himself. “Goodbye.”

You pulled the phone away as the line clicked off. “Take care,” you added, mostly to yourself.

The door chimed open.

You didn’t look right away — most people who came in after midnight didn’t want to be acknowledged. They wanted a drink, a seat, a moment away from their lives. You wiped the rim of a glass with the edge of your shirt, glanced up only when you heard the shoes — slow, deliberate steps on old floorboards.

A man, maybe mid-forties, maybe older. It was hard to tell in the low light. His face was worn but clean, his blazer folded neatly over one arm. He had the look of someone who used to drink often but tried not to anymore — the kind of man who ordered the same thing every time and gave the impression he was just passing through.

“One gin,” he said as he approached the center of the bar. “Two lemon slices. I still don’t like the lingering taste of gin.”

He sat down carefully, as though unsure whether the stool would hold him.

You gave him a half-smile. “Yeah, gin’s kind of brutal, sir. I could suggest something lighter — smoother, maybe.”

He shook his head once. “No need, kid. That’ll do just fine.”

You nodded and turned to prep the drink. The ice tray was almost empty — a result of the faulty freezer that nobody had gotten around to fixing — so you used what was left and focused on the lemons instead. Clean cuts, symmetrical slices. The kind of small precision that felt meaningful on nights like this.

As the gin hit the glass, the air filled with its sharp, clean sting. It mixed with the muted sweetness of citrus and the faint scent of wood polish and stale beer. Familiar smells. The kind that reminded you of nights long before this one, of memories that still sat behind your ribs like unspoken confessions.

You set the drink down in front of the man, careful not to let the glass clink too loud against the countertop.

“There you go,” you said. “Lemon on the side. Just in case you change your mind.”

He gave you a small nod, then stirred the drink with the tip of his finger. The condensation clung to his skin, catching light from the small neon “Open” sign in the window. It reflected red and blue and yellow across the wet surface of the bar — like stained glass in a church where no one prayed anymore.

He took a sip. Winced slightly. Then smiled.

The jazz faded into something slower — a ballad without words. You didn’t recognize the track, but you liked how it lingered. How it filled in the quiet without demanding attention.

Behind you, the small fridge hummed. You reached down for what had become your nightly ritual: a single can of Delicia™ Mixed Fruit Cocktail in Light Syrup. You’d memorized the weight, the sound it made sliding across the shelf. You didn’t even have to look.

You cracked it open with your thumb. The hiss was soft but clear — a sound you’d come to associate with her.

Minjeong.

You didn’t say her name anymore. Not out loud. But it lived in everything: in the half-clean bowl you kept under the counter, in the tin tower forming beside your tiny fridge at home, in the way you always ate the peaches first.

No one ever asked why.

And if they did, you’d lie.

Because the real answer was this:

“We never finished the fruit salad.”

She said it like a joke, half-laughing as she packed her things. The words hung in the air after she left, like a lyric you couldn’t stop humming. You’d been eating canned fruit ever since. One can per night. Every night.

You poured the syrup into the bowl slowly, watching the fruit settle. Peaches, cherries, pineapple, grapes. The artificial sweetness clung to your fingers.

Peaches first. Always.

You locked up the bar close to 2AM. The tide had come in just enough to make the pavement damp, like the ocean had crept in to eavesdrop. Your shoes made soft slaps against the concrete as you walked. The night was humid, not hot, but heavy — like something pressing down on your shoulders that you couldn’t quite name.

The convenience store was still lit up like a lantern for moths. Same old flickering sign, the “C” in “Open 24C” long burnt out. You pushed the door open, and the bell rang — delicate, tinny. The kind of sound that made you feel like you were interrupting something.

You weren’t in a rush. You never were.

You passed the snacks, the pre-packed meals that all tasted like microwave memory, until you reached the back — the farthest shelf, tucked beneath the leaking air conditioner.

There they were.

Delicia™ Mixed Fruit Cocktail in Light Syrup.

Same label. Same weight in your hand. But tonight, you scanned for something different.

The expiry date.

You found one. Just a week left.

You stared at the number like it meant something. Like if you squinted hard enough, it might become a phone number. Or a date from the past. Or a sign.

You placed two cans in the basket. Then three. Then five.

Because maybe — just maybe — if the fruit expired, she would come back.

You didn’t believe in omens. Not really. But you liked the idea. That a can had a life. That it carried something sealed inside, waiting to be opened. Waiting to be tasted again. Like memories.

And that if you waited too long, they’d go bad.

You turned the corner to the pet aisle. Grabbed a pouch of salmon-flavored cat food for the stray that slept near your stairwell. A small black cat with a white paw and a scarred ear, too proud to purr, but always waiting. You’d named her Ghost. You’d never said it out loud, but it felt right.

As you lined up at the counter, the clerk gave you a half-smile, barely looking up from his manga.

“Back again,” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He scanned the cans without comment. The beep echoed with each one.

You counted them silently like prayers. Seven tonight.

Seven days.

Seven chances.

You tapped your card. The screen flickered. Transaction approved.

Outside, the street was still and yellow under the flickering lamp posts. You carried the bag like it weighed more than it did.

You wondered — if memories were like fruit, and you could seal them inside tin, keep them sweet and untouched — would they still expire?

Would they sour, rot in secret, even behind the metal?

Would they still hurt?

And if you opened them years later — would you still taste her laugh?

You reached your apartment just as the wind picked up. Not strong. Just enough to rustle the loose paper stuck to your neighbor’s door. You placed the bag on the kitchen counter, turned on the dim bulb above the sink.

The cans clinked together like old friends.

You reached for the one closest to expiration.

Just six days left.

You didn’t open it.

Not yet.

You fed the cat, changed into an old shirt she once borrowed, and sat by the window where the moonlight came in through a crooked blind.

You told yourself:

Tomorrow, if I still miss her, I’ll eat another.

But you already knew the answer.

You always did

You reached home a little past three. The hallway outside your door was quiet, save for the hum of a broken ceiling fan turning lazily, pointlessly. Your key stuck in the lock the way it always did. You jiggled it until it gave in with a tired sigh.

Inside, your apartment held its usual stillness — the kind that made you pause before turning the lights on, like you were afraid of what might look back.

You dropped the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and walked past it.

Then you saw them again.

The tower of cans. A mountain now, almost reaching your hip.

Stacked and sorted by brand and date like you were trying to preserve something sacred.

The new ones you just bought still sat in the bag. But these — these were already living on borrowed time.

You kneeled in front of the pile, ran your fingers over the labels. One by one. You didn’t need to check — you already knew.

Most of them expire this week. Some tomorrow. Some… maybe yesterday.

And suddenly, that quiet ache inside you — the one you’d fed with syrup and memory — cracked.

You grabbed the first can. No bowl this time.

Just the metal, cold in your hand, the lid popping with a hiss that echoed far too loud in the stillness.

You dug in with a spoon, syrup dripping down your knuckles, the sweetness thick and cloying. You didn’t taste it. Not really.

You finished it in seconds.

Then the next.

And the next.

It became mechanical — rip, spoon, chew, swallow.

The syrup began to burn your throat. The fake peaches, the grapes that never had any flavor to begin with, the cherries that stained everything red.

You kept eating.

Because if the cans were going to expire — if the sweetness was going to rot — you had to take it in before it disappeared.

Before she disappeared.

You told yourself:

If I eat them all now, maybe it’ll be enough.

Maybe memory won’t go bad if it lives inside you.

Tin clattered on the linoleum floor. Sticky pools gathered around your knees. You lost count after six.

Your stomach churned, but you kept going.

By the time you stopped, your mouth was thick with sugar, your chest tight. You were sitting on the floor, back against the counter, surrounded by empties — glinting silver like little forgotten tombstones.

You looked down at your hands.

Sticky. Shaking.

You didn’t cry.

Instead, you laughed — soft and hoarse — the kind of laugh that breaks in half before it finishes.

Because in that moment, you understood something.

Memories can be canned.

But they still expire.

And sometimes, the only way to keep them… is to eat them before they rot.

You lay back on the cold floor, syrup clinging to your shirt.

The cat meowed once in the corner, then curled near your feet without judgment.

Outside, the streetlights buzzed.

Inside, you closed your eyes and whispered her name like it might come back sweet.

Minjeong

Your phone screen lit up, cutting through the dimness of the room. You didn’t need to check who it was. No one ever called this late. No one except the silent voicemail prompt you kept dialing every night.

“Leave a message after the tone.”

The line beeped.

You didn’t speak right away.

You never did.

You sat there on the floor, back against the bedframe, the room still scented faintly with canned syrup and cat food. The can tower was gone now — emptied, discarded, reduced to nothing but their sticky remains in a plastic bag beside the trash bin.

You looked out the window. The streetlight flickered like it was trying to remember how to stay alive.

You brought the phone close.

“Hey.”

Your voice was hoarse, the sugar still coating the edges of your throat. You cleared it softly.

“Not much today,” you said, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. “Bar was slow. That guy came back — the one who always asks for two lemon slices with his gin. He didn’t say much again. Just sat there listening to the music.”

You paused.

There was no response. There never was.

“He reminds me of someone,” you added, “but I haven’t figured out who yet.”

You shifted, elbow brushing against the bag of fresh Delicia cans you hadn’t touched yet.

“I bought too many again. Fruit cocktails. Most of them expire this week.”

You let out a breath — somewhere between a laugh and an exhale. “Guess I panicked. Thought maybe if they all went bad, you’d show up and finish one with me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Silence. Then another breath.

“There’s this cat now. I call her Ghost. She’s always waiting when I get home. Won’t let me touch her, but she never leaves.”

A longer pause now. You tilted your head to the side, staring at the phone like it might split open and give you her voice back.

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

Then corrected yourself.

“No, I’m lying. I’m not fine. I just miss you.”

You looked at the clock.

3:12 AM.

“I keep thinking… if memories get canned like fruit, sealed up tight and sugary sweet, do they still expire? Do they still go bad, even if you never open them?”

You didn’t expect an answer.

But you waited anyway.

The silence buzzed.

“Anyway… goodnight, Minjeong.”

You hung up.

Then tapped the screen again. Dialed the same number.

You always left two messages.

You didn’t know why. Maybe one was for her. The other… maybe for the version of you who still believed she’d call back.

“Hey. Me again. I forgot to say — the peaches were soft tonight. Real soft. You would’ve liked them.”

Beep.

The air still smelled faintly of syrup.

You’d washed your hands five times before your shift, but the sugar stuck. It clung to your fingertips, your breath, your sleeves — like your body had absorbed the sweetness against its will.

You were behind the bar again, like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t cried over metal cans. Like you hadn’t whispered her name into a voicemail box that had long since stopped answering.

You wiped the same glass over and over. Jazz hummed lazily from the speaker, a sleepy trumpet lulling the night into stillness. Only two customers so far: a man drinking tequila without lime, and a woman writing something in a notebook she never looked up from.

You were tired, but not the kind that sleep could fix.

The door opened.

And this time, you looked.

She stepped in slowly, like she wasn’t sure she’d chosen the right place. Like the bar had invited her in against her will. She wore a black hoodie with the hood down, oversized and soft at the edges. Sunglasses — even though it was past midnight. Hair tied loose, lips bare.

She didn’t belong here. But somehow, she didn’t look out of place either.

She walked straight to the counter. Sat on the far-left stool. The one no one ever chose.

You approached cautiously, pulling your towel from your shoulder.

“What can I get you?” you asked, voice flat but not unfriendly.

She didn’t answer at first. Just removed the sunglasses and placed them on the counter.

Her eyes were sharp. Glassy. Like they’d seen too much under too many lights.

“Something simple,” she said. “Nothing with a name.”

You nodded. Reached for a clean glass and some gin, poured just enough to sting without hurting. Added a thin slice of lemon. No sugar. No fuss.

She sipped. Winced.

Then smiled — almost. “Perfect.”

You watched her quietly. Something about her was familiar in a way that unsettled you. Like a melody from a song you’d forgotten but once loved.

She glanced around the bar, slowly. Then looked at you again.

“Quiet place,” she said. “Dead, even.”

“Some nights are like that.”

“You don’t talk much.”

“You don’t seem like someone who needs small talk.”

That made her laugh. Short. Low. Not staged.

She looked down at her drink. Stirred the ice once with her finger.

Then: “Do you have anything to eat?”

You blinked. “Kitchen closed an hour ago. Just bar snacks.”

“Anything cold?”

You hesitated. Then remembered.

Without a word, you walked to the back fridge. Reached behind the beer crates. Pulled out a half-chilled can of Delicia™ Mixed Fruit Cocktail — unopened, expiration date creeping close.

You grabbed a small glass bowl and a spoon.

Opened the can. The familiar hiss.

You slid it to her without a word.

She looked at it, then at you.

“No way,” she said, a little amused. “People actually eat this?”

You said nothing.

She took a bite.

Chewed slowly.

Paused.

“…It tastes like a hotel room in a city you’ll never visit again.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

She pointed her spoon at you. “You eat this often?”

“Every night.”

“Why?”

You almost said her name.

Almost.

Instead: “Trying to remember something sweet.”

She didn’t ask more. She didn’t press.

She just kept eating. Quietly.

And for some reason, you watched her more than you should’ve.

She didn’t eat like Minjeong.

She didn’t speak like her.

She didn’t feel like her.

But for the first time in weeks — maybe months — someone was sitting across from you.

Eating what you always ate. Without flinching.

The jazz hummed on.

You didn’t ask her name.

Not yet.

But you were already wondering if she’d return.

The bowl was nearly empty now. Just syrup left, clinging to the curved edges like the end of a memory no one wanted to finish.

She held the spoon loosely, letting it rest on her lip, as if tasting something far beyond the fruit. The jazz record had looped twice. Neither of you had spoken in minutes.

You leaned against the counter, wiping your hands with the same towel for the fifth time.

“People don’t usually eat that whole thing,” you said, nodding toward the bowl.

She tilted her head, the spoon still hovering.

“Maybe I’m not people.”

You smirked without meaning to. “No. You’re not.”

She didn’t answer right away. Her fingers ran along the rim of the glass.

“You know,” she said quietly, “I thought it would be sweeter.”

“What?”

“The fruit. The syrup. Everything.”

She looked up. “But it’s not. It’s just… tired. Like it’s been pretending to be sweet for too long.”

You swallowed hard. Not at her words, but the way she said them — like they weren’t about the fruit at all.

You nodded slowly. “Most people don’t notice.”

“Most people don’t taste properly.”

A pause.

Then, she asked, “What’s your name?”

You hesitated. She noticed.

“Y/N.”

She said it once, testing it on her tongue like she was chewing it over. Then again, but slower, quieter.

“Y/N.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about you?”

She sipped from her glass again before answering.

“Yu Jimin,” she said.

A lie. Or maybe just a half-truth.

You didn’t push it.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

“Is it?”

Her eyes met yours. Not playful. Not teasing. Just… there. Steady.

You leaned your weight on the counter.

“Can I ask something?”

She nodded.

“Why here?”

She looked around. The cracked vinyl on the barstools. The flickering light above the jukebox. The cat that sometimes brushed past the door when no one was looking.

“It’s quiet,” she said. “And it doesn’t ask anything of me.”

“That’s a rare thing.”

She looked back at you.

“You don’t ask much either.”

“I don’t like pushing.”

“No,” she said, and there was something like disappointment in her voice. “You like waiting.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

Her spoon clinked against the glass bowl. She pushed it slightly forward, an offering or maybe a surrender.

“Do you always wait for someone who isn’t coming back?”

You didn’t respond.

She smiled without warmth.

“I thought so.”

The room grew smaller. Not in size, but in feeling.

Something was stretching between you now — not affection, not attraction — just a thread of knowing. Two people who recognized each other in the worst possible way: not by name, not by story, but by ache.

Outside, a motorbike roared past.

Inside, the silence roared louder.

“I should go,” she said, sliding her sunglasses back on even though the moon had already replaced the sun.

You didn’t stop her. Just said, “You can come back. If you want.”

She paused at the door.

“You’ll still be waiting?” she asked without turning.

You looked at the bowl. At the half-melted ice in her glass. At the shadow she left behind.

“Yeah,” you said.

And then she was gone.

She let the door close behind her with a dull click. The hallway smelled of old paint and boiled rice — the kind of scent that stuck to your hair, your memory. Somewhere down the corridor, a TV played too loud, the laugh track leaking through the walls like water.

Her apartment was on the third floor. No elevator. The door stuck unless you shoved it with your shoulder.

Inside: stillness.

The room was a little too clean. Bed made too tightly. Everything arranged at 90-degree angles, like someone was trying to control a life that had already spun out.

She dropped her bag on the floor. Took off the sunglasses. Unzipped the hoodie. Underneath: a plain white shirt, damp with the weight of the world.

The walls of her apartment were blank — except for one.

She turned toward it slowly.

Posters.

Old ones. Curled at the edges. Thumbtacked too many times.

Karina — the real Karina — in every one.

Stage photos. Fan meet smiles. Music video stills where her face was soft-lit and her eyes sparkled, just the way they taught her.

She looked at them like they belonged to someone else.

She used to hate this wall. Now she looked at it like a scar.

For a moment, she just stood there. Breathing. Watching.

Then she turned the lamp on. The yellow kind of light. Motel light.

She walked to the sink. Poured a glass of water. Didn’t drink it.

Instead, she walked to the table, sat down slowly, and opened the tiny tin ashtray beside a pile of receipts and expired ID cards. No cigarettes tonight — she quit years ago — but she liked holding them sometimes. Just to remember she could stop something.

Her phone buzzed once. A name she didn’t save. She silenced it without looking.

Then, without knowing why, she pulled a plastic spoon from her bag — the one the bartender gave her — and set it on the table next to her keys. Cleaned. Dried. Still hers.

She stared at it for a long time.

She didn’t feel sad.

Not in a way you could name. It was more like… hollowing.

Like someone had carved out the soft parts and left the shell standing upright.

There were nights she thought about stepping off the subway platform.

Not because she wanted to die.

Just to see if anyone would notice.

She wouldn’t do it. Not really.

But it lingered.

The idea of ending without drama. Quietly. As an afterthought.

She reached into a drawer and pulled out a tin of mixed fruit. Same brand.

She didn’t know why she’d bought it before tonight. It had just felt… necessary.

She held it in both hands and stared.

So much sweetness sealed inside.

So much waiting.

She whispered aloud, not to anyone in particular:

“If I disappear, will I rot like this too?”

The answer didn’t come. It didn’t need to.

Instead, her thoughts drifted to the bar.

The dim light. The jazz.

And the man behind the counter, who didn’t flinch when she said the syrup tasted like loneliness.

He looked at her like she wasn’t someone.

Just… there. Existing. Breathing. Tired. Real.

She liked that.

She liked that too much.

So she did something she hadn’t done in months.

She opened her journal.

Not the online one. The real one. The paper one no one read.

And she wrote:

He looked at me like I wasn’t famous.

He gave me fruit without asking questions.

I want to go back.

Then she put the pen down.

And finally, for the first time in weeks,

she fell asleep without the help of pills.

THE NEXT NIGHT

It was the same hour. The same lazy saxophone murmuring from the speaker behind the bar. You didn’t change the playlist — didn’t even want to. Some nights, familiarity was the only thing that didn’t press against your ribs.

The regulars were in.

The man with the crossword. The woman who always ordered ginger ale and never drank more than half. You knew what they wanted before they spoke. Knew how their stories ended before they started.

And then the bell rang.

She came back.

Yu Jimin stepped in like she hadn’t been gone at all. Like she’d only stepped out to smoke a cigarette, not disappear into the city’s shadows for two days.

Same hoodie. This time zipped. Hair in a lower ponytail. Sunglasses tucked in her hand instead of on her face.

She sat in the same seat — far left corner of the bar. Like it had been waiting.

You didn’t smile, but your fingers tightened slightly on the glass you were drying. That was enough.

Without asking, you went to the back fridge. Pulled out a tin.

Delicia™ Mixed Fruit Cocktail.

She didn’t even look surprised.

“You keep feeding me this,” she said as you placed the bowl down. “I might start thinking you like me.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t like anyone.”

She smirked. Took the spoon.

“You talk like someone who misses people for a living.”

You didn’t answer. Just poured her drink. Same as last time. No name. No sugar. One slice of lemon.

She stirred the fruit lazily.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, not like she expected a yes — but like she was trying to embarrass you.

You leaned your elbows on the bar.

“Not sure you’re real enough to miss.”

That made her smile — not the small polite one, but the kind that creased her eyes for half a second.

“You always this charming?” she asked.

“Only with people who don’t ask questions.”

A beat.

Then she whispered, “What’s the saddest thing you’ve ever done while pretending to be fine?”

You blinked.

The question was a trap. Not cruel, not pointed. Just sharp enough to draw something out of you.

You thought about the voicemails. The cans. The way you slept on the floor that night because the bed felt too alive with her memory.

But you didn’t say any of that.

Instead, you nodded at her spoon.

“Offered expired fruit to strangers.”

She looked down. Then nodded, like she understood.

And just like that, the edge softened.

Minutes passed.

She asked for another drink. You gave her one.

She didn’t ask for your name again — she remembered it.

You didn’t ask for hers — but it felt closer now, somehow less fake.

By the end of the night, she had her elbow on the counter, cheek resting against her palm, eyes watching the ceiling fan spin lazily overhead.

You leaned back, lighting a cigarette you wouldn’t finish.

“You live nearby?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Close enough to leave.”

“You always leave?”

“Only when I think people will notice.”

You didn’t press.

Instead, you asked something smaller. Quieter.

“…What do you do, Jimin?”

She stirred her glass. Then, with a strange kind of honesty:

“Nothing. I used to be someone, but it stopped meaning anything.”

You studied her for a moment.

And instead of asking who, you asked:

“Does it hurt?”

She hesitated. Then shook her head.

“No. It’s just… quiet now. And I don’t know if that’s better.”

The song changed. A piano track this time. Slower.

You didn’t say anything else.

You just let her eat in peace.

Because that was the thing about routine — sometimes it was the only way to say I’m still here.

And when she left that night, she didn’t say goodbye.

But she left the spoon behind.

On purpose.

THE NEXT NIGHT

She didn’t knock.

She never did.

She walked in with the same air of detachment, like she might vanish if anyone said her name too loudly.

Yu Jimin slid into her usual barstool.

You barely looked up this time. But your hand already reached under the counter.

“Mixed fruit?”

It wasn’t a question anymore.

She smirked. “You always this attentive, bartender?”

You poured her drink first. No sugar. One lemon slice. Glass half-full.

Then you opened the can — the same brand, the label wrinkled from condensation. It hissed softly as you peeled the lid back.

“You ever wonder,” she said, tapping her spoon lightly on the rim, “if the fruit inside is even real?”

You shrugged. “Real enough to remember.”

She tilted her head. “Or real enough to forget?”

You didn’t reply. Not yet.

She spooned a sliver of pear, let it sit on her tongue for a moment, then grinned.

“You should sit with me,” she said. “You’re always standing. It’s intimidating.”

“I’m working.”

“You’re hiding.”

That made your brow twitch, just slightly.

But you pulled the stool from behind the counter and sat anyway.

She leaned in, eyes half-lidded, elbow on the table.

“Do you always feed your ghosts?”

You blinked.

And in the quietest voice:

“They weren’t ghosts when I started.”

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she changed the subject — kind of.

“What’s her name?”

You hesitated. That second too long.

“Minjeong.”

She repeated it under her breath.

Once. Like a prayer. Like a threat.

“Pretty name,” she said. “But I think you say it like it still hurts.”

You didn’t respond.

Jimin took another bite. Then pushed the spoon into your hand.

“Try it.”

You stared at it. “I already know how it tastes.”

“Then let’s see if it still tastes like her.”

You took the spoon.

A bite.

Peach. Syrup. Soft sugar and artificial tenderness.

It didn’t taste like Minjeong tonight.

It didn’t taste like anyone.

She watched your face, amused. “You never tell me what you think.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“You are,” she said. “You’re always thinking. You just talk like someone who doesn’t believe it’ll matter.”

You looked at her then.

Really looked.

Not like a customer. Not like a stranger.

But like someone you might be able to know.

“You always flirt like this?” you asked.

She grinned. “Only with men who look like they’ve loved someone who never said it back.”

You smirked. But you didn’t deny it.

Later that night

You sat on your apartment floor again, with Ghost on your lap and three empty cans beside your leg. The smell of fruit syrup had seeped into the walls now. You held your phone.

Minjeong’s contact still stared back at you.

You pressed call.

It rang.

The beep.

“Hey. It’s me again. I, uh… had a weird night. The fruit didn’t taste like you. That’s new.”

You paused.

“There’s this woman. She comes in now. Same time. Every other night. She eats the fruit without complaining.”

You inhaled.

“She said your name tonight.”

A long silence.

“I didn’t tell her anything. I wouldn’t. You know that.”

Ghost blinked up at you like she didn’t care.

You cleared your throat.

“She left her spoon again.”

Then hung up.

The fifth night she came in, you already had the can ready.

It wasn’t out of hope.

It was habit now.

She’d made herself a pattern.

The same stool — far left. The same drink. The same smirk curling at the corner of her lip when she caught you trying not to watch her too long.

She didn’t speak right away tonight.

She slid into the seat without her hoodie. Just a black shirt, collar fraying, sleeves rolled to the elbow. There was a soft gleam on her cheek, like she’d just wiped sweat from walking too far without needing to.

You poured her the drink in silence.

Then you placed the bowl in front of her.

She smiled at the can before even tasting it.

“You know this is my favorite part of the day now?”

You kept your eyes on the glass you were drying.

“That’s depressing,” you said.

She chuckled. “No — it’s delicious. Who knew trauma fruit could be this comforting?”

You didn’t laugh, but your lip twitched.

She took a bite. Stirred the syrup.

“You ever think you’ll stop missing her?” she asked, like she was asking about the weather.

Your hands stilled.

You looked up. Met her eyes.

“I don’t miss her,” you said.

She blinked.

You continued, “I miss the part of me that only existed when she was around.”

Her spoon paused halfway to her mouth.

Then she nodded. Slowly.

“That’s worse,” she whispered. “Isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer.

She set the spoon down. Let it rest in the syrup.

“You know,” she said, after a long silence, “if I were her, I’d be jealous.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“She left, right?” she said, sipping her drink. “And here you are, still loyal. Still eating expired fruit for her like some… broken ritual priest.”

You scoffed. “Are you flirting with me or psychoanalyzing me?”

“Both,” she said, unbothered. “You’re more interesting when you’re trying not to feel.”

She leaned forward, elbows on the bar. Her voice dropped just enough to thrum beneath the jazz.

“I’m not trying to fix you, Y/N.”

You looked at her.

She smiled again. Not teasing this time. Just… soft.

“I just like watching men ruin themselves in slow motion.”

You looked down at the can.

It had less fruit in it now. Mostly syrup.

You didn’t say anything.

So she did.

“I used to be someone too, you know.”

Your head tilted slightly.

She swirled her glass.

“Back then, they called me Karina. Big lights. Big shows. Lots of screaming.”

You stared.

“Yeah,” she said, answering the question you didn’t ask. “That one.”

“But you said your name was—”

“I didn’t lie. I just let the other one rot a little.”

She looked at you then. Sharp. Unafraid.

“You going to treat me different now?”

You held her gaze.

“No,” you said. “But I might pour you something stronger.”

She grinned. “That’s hot.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile lingered at the edge of your mouth longer than usual.

That night, when the bar closed, you didn’t eat.

You walked home slow.

Passed the convenience store. Bought two cans this time. One close to expiration. One already past.

You fed Ghost.

Then you sat on the floor, phone in hand. Screen glowing faintly.

The contact still read:

Minjeong.

You hesitated.

Then pressed call.

The beep came like a heartbeat.

“Hey,” you whispered. “I think someone found your seat.”

You let out a slow breath.

“I still think about you. That hasn’t changed. But… something’s shifting.”

A pause.

“She told me her real name tonight.”

You almost stopped there.

But the silence was kind, so you kept going.

“I didn’t say yours. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying it when no one’s listening. But I didn’t say it to her.”

You swallowed.

“She eats the fruit, Minjeong. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t even ask why. And when I look at her, I don’t see you.”

Ghost meowed once from the sink.

You smiled faintly.

“I think that scares me.”

You hung up before you could ruin it with more words.

Then leaned back, watching the ceiling.

And whispered into the dark:

“Goodnight.”

She came in the same way she always did — quiet, familiar, like a habit that hadn’t decided whether it wanted to break you or keep you steady. You were behind the bar already opening a can, the label half-peeled from the condensation, when she spoke.

“No fruit tonight.”

Your hand paused mid-motion. You looked up.

She wasn’t in her usual hoodie. Tonight it was a sweater, grey and loose, the kind that stretched just slightly at the sleeves. Her hair was down again. No sunglasses. The space between you felt different — not new, but asking for something.

“I want real food,” she added. “Something not soaked in syrup.”

You leaned against the counter.

“You assuming I can cook?”

She smiled. That half-smile she wore like armor. “You’ve got the hands for it. You cut things too neatly. You keep your knives in a row. That’s not a bartender thing. That’s a cook thing.”

You thought about lying. About shrugging it off. But then the words came simple, unguarded.

“Come by tomorrow night. After my shift.”

Her eyebrow arched. “That easy?”

You didn’t smile. But your voice softened.

“I don’t invite people in. So if I’m offering, it’s either real… or a mistake.”

She leaned forward on her elbows, chin resting on the back of her hand.

“Then I’ll risk it.”

Your apartment smelled like soy sauce and ginger by the time she arrived. Not on purpose — it just always happened that way. The pork had been slow-braised for an hour. The noodles were resting in a colander. The sauce sat thick in a pan waiting to be stirred one last time.

You’d cleared the clutter — mostly. The cans of mixed fruit were still stacked near the windowsill. Ghost was curled in your spot on the couch, tail flicking. Jazz played low from the speaker in the corner. Nothing fancy. Just enough to make the silence softer.

There was a knock at 8:43.

When you opened the door, she was there. Not dressed up — just… present. Like someone trying to meet the night halfway.

She stepped inside without waiting for permission. Her eyes did a slow scan of the room — the table, the sink, the cans lined like a broken skyline. But she didn’t say anything. Not yet.

“You’re early,” you said, closing the door behind her.

“You said after eight. I came after eight.”

“I said after my shift.”

“Then you should’ve clarified.”

You served dinner without another word.

Two bowls. Noodles, soy pork, scallions, slow-boiled egg halved just right.

She sat cross-legged on your floor beside the table, spoon in hand. The moment she took a bite, she let out a low, satisfied sigh.

“Okay,” she said, mouth still half-full. “I take it back. You’re dangerous.”

You poured her tea.

She added, “I can’t tell if this tastes like home or heartbreak.”

“Same difference,” you muttered.

Her eyes lingered on the stack of cans.

“That your shrine?”

You looked over. Didn’t respond.

She reached for one. Turned it slowly in her palm.

“Expired,” she read aloud.

“Yesterday.”

She tilted her head. “And you still keep them?”

“They’re not for eating.”

“What are they for?”

You took a breath.

“They’re the only things I still keep just in case she comes back.”

Jimin didn’t move for a long moment.

Then, quietly: “You think she’d want that?”

You didn’t look at her.

“I think I’m scared of what happens if I throw them out.”

She set the can down gently, right where she found it.

“I don’t want to be part of the ritual,” she said. “I want to be something new.”

You didn’t have a reply.

Not yet.

Instead, you pushed another bowl toward her.

Then leaned back, watched as she took another bite, as the room settled again.

Ghost wandered to her side and rubbed against her ankle. She smiled, reached down, scratched softly behind its ear.

And for a few moments, no one spoke.

You didn’t think about Minjeong. You didn’t check your phone. You didn’t eat another can.

You just sat across from the woman who wanted nothing from your past, only whatever version of you was left over.

And for the first time in months, that felt like enough

After the Dinner.

The door clicked shut behind her with no sound at all.

Not even the cat reacted.

You stood by it a moment longer than you needed to. Listening to the hall. Listening to the air she left behind.

Her bowl was still on the table. A third of the noodles untouched. Ghost was licking it clean with slow, lazy strokes, as if that silence meant something she understood.

You didn’t clear the dishes right away.

You sat.

You stared at the stack of fruit cans on the shelf.

One can had tipped slightly during dinner. You hadn’t noticed it until now.

You reached over, straightened it with two fingers, aligning it with the rest.

Then your phone buzzed.

Just a notification. A bill reminder. You cleared it without reading.

But your thumb hovered over her contact.

The one still saved as Minjeong (old).

The routine was muscle memory.

Call.

Wait.

Talk.

Pause.

Hang up.

Call again.

Tonight should’ve been no different. It was always after dinner. Always after warmth. That’s when the loneliness hit harder. That’s when the silence got clever.

You stared at the contact.

Then pressed it.

It rang.

The beep came like always — soft, stupid, gentle.

You didn’t speak.

The seconds ticked.

You could’ve told her about the dinner.

Could’ve said her name again.

Could’ve told her that Jimin was here. That she ate quietly. That she smiled at Ghost like she knew what it meant to stay.

But you didn’t.

You opened your mouth once — then shut it.

Not because you didn’t want to say anything. But because tonight, the silence felt full. Like someone else had already heard what needed to be said.

You thumbed the screen.

Deleted the voicemail.

Not saved.

Not sent.

Just gone.

You put the phone down.

Then sat back in the chair, arms crossed, staring at nothing.

The fan turned overhead.

The syrup on the edge of one empty fruit can had started to dry.

And for the first time, that didn’t feel tragic.

Just true.

SOME WEEKS LATER

You always close up this slow?” she asked, her voice floating through the rain.

You didn’t turn around yet. The lock was being stubborn again, rust caught in the groove. Jazz from the bar still spilled faintly through the window, as if the night didn’t want to let go.

“I’m thorough,” you said, jiggling the key once more.

“Or lonely.”

You finally turned. She stood beneath the awning, half-soaked, sleeves tugged over her knuckles. The rain made everything blur — her hair stuck to her face, lips pink with cold. She didn’t look like a woman trying to flirt. Just someone trying not to leave.

“You want a drink?” you asked.

She tilted her head. “You offering because it’s raining or because I’m still here?”

You didn’t answer.

Inside, you poured her something cheap and warm. She didn’t ask what it was. She just took the glass, held it between both palms, and watched the way your sleeves rolled up when you wiped the counter.

“I keep thinking about that pork you made,” she murmured. “The soft egg? You did that on purpose, right? Like… you wanted it to break open at the first touch.”

“I cook how I feel,” you said, still cleaning. “Some days I’m whole. Some days I’m not.”

She smirked into her glass. “So when you burn things?”

“Usually means I’m thinking about her again.”

There was a silence.

Then the soft clink of her glass against the bar.

“She’s still got her hands around your throat,” she whispered. “You talk like you’re running out of breath.”

You looked at her.

Her hair was dripping onto the counter. Her hands were cold. But she looked like she belonged in this kind of moment — dim light, slow air, something heavy simmering beneath.

You slid a towel toward her.

“Dry off.”

She didn’t.

Instead, she pulled the hem of her sweater over her mouth, hiding a smile. Her eyes crinkled when she was about to say something dangerous.

“I think I like your silence better than your talking.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

“I like people who don’t perform.”

You leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “You were a performer.”

She didn’t flinch.

“Exactly,” she said. “Takes one to know.”

One night, she came by with her own fruit can.

Not expired. A different brand. Foreign lettering.

“What’s this?” you asked, confused.

She grinned. “Found it in the back shelf of the Korean mart. Thought I’d mess with your ritual.”

You inspected the can. The print was in Hangul, the syrup inside slightly pink.

“Still mixed,” she added, tapping the lid. “Still sweet. But this one’s mine.”

You popped the top. She grabbed the spoon from your hand.

That night, you both ate in silence, back-to-back on the floor behind the bar, jazz humming in the background.

She fed you a cherry.

You didn’t ask why.

She didn’t explain.

It rained again two days later. Harder this time. The kind of rain that curled into your socks and made the whole street smell like wet wires.

She waited for you by the crosswalk.

You didn’t know why she was there.

“You left your lighter,” she said, holding it up like it was a gift.

“I don’t smoke.”

“You used it for candles. Still counts.”

You walked in step down the block. She kept bumping your arm, barely touching, but you noticed every time. She didn’t have an umbrella. You handed her yours again, and she took it like it was the most natural thing.

“You always this nice to pretty strangers?” she asked.

“You’re not a stranger anymore.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

Then looked away and whispered, “Not yet.”

You didn’t ask what she meant.

Later that night, back at the apartment, you boiled water for tea. She sat on the window ledge again, same hoodie as before, legs drawn up, Ghost curled near her ankle.

“I didn’t think I’d come back here,” she said.

“You always say that.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. But this time I believed it.”

You placed the tea on the sill beside her. She took it with both hands, and for a moment the two of you just watched the streetlights flicker in the puddles below.

“I like this place,” she said. “It’s not trying too hard. It’s just… here.”

You sat across from her.

She nudged your knee with hers.

“Y/N.”

You looked up.

“If I kissed you right now,” she said, “would it be because you wanted me to? Or because you’re trying not to remember her?”

You didn’t speak.

She waited.

Then, before you could even reach for a lie, she leaned back, eyes closing.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t need the answer tonight.”

The kettle whistled again, but you didn’t move.

The silence held.

The rain kept falling.

And the unopened can of fruit on your counter was already starting to gather dust.

The fan spun overhead, creaking slightly at every turn. Outside, the rain had stopped hours ago, but the street still glistened — windows fogged, pavement breathing. Inside, the lights were off. One candle flickered on the table, flame struggling against the stillness of 3:41 AM.

She was lying on your bed sideways, her feet dangling off the edge, hoodie bunched around her waist. Ghost had curled up beside her, purring softly against the fabric.

You were seated on the floor, back resting against the side of the bed, nursing a warm mug of tea you forgot to sip. The room smelled like ginger, old incense, and the kind of tired that sinks into your skin.

“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if you made different choices?” she asked, voice quiet, almost slurred.

You didn’t answer right away. Just let the words settle.

“I think about it,” you said eventually, “every time I open a pan.”

She tilted her head slightly to look at you. “Pan?”

“I wanted to be a chef.”

Her eyes blinked once.

You continued, “Culinary school. Formal training. Knife skills, Michelin dreams… all of it.”

“You don’t talk like someone who gave up.”

You exhaled through your nose.

“I didn’t give up,” you said. “I got shoved out.”

Her brow furrowed.

“My mom got sick. Money dried up. Hospital bills, meds. I was working double shifts at a hotel kitchen just to keep her fed, couldn’t pay tuition. Eventually, they let me go.”

You stirred your tea once.

“No big fall. No drama. Just… too tired to keep climbing.”

She didn’t speak.

So you added, softer, “I kept cooking, though. Even if it was just ramen. Even if it was just… for me.”

She watched you in the dark, face half-lit by candlelight.

“Maybe that’s why it still tastes good,” she said. “You’re not cooking to prove anything.”

You looked up.

She shifted slightly, folding her arm beneath her head. The hoodie rode up a little, revealing a bruised mark near her hip — not fresh, but not quite healed.

“Your turn,” you said.

She stared at the ceiling.

“I was fifteen when they signed me.”

Your fingers froze around the mug.

She didn’t look at you.

“They said I was lucky. That I had the look. I trained for four years before they let me debut. But even then, something was always off. The other girls would get pushed forward. I was told to step back. Told I was ‘too cold-looking’ or ‘too serious.’”

You sat up straighter, but didn’t speak.

“I kept my head down. I did what they said. Even smiled more. But then… things started happening.”

She paused.

“They leaked a rumor. Said I was rude to staff. That I cursed at a makeup artist. I hadn’t even spoken to anyone that day. But it spread. And they didn’t clean it up.”

“Why?”

She swallowed.

“They wanted me to fade out.”

You felt your chest tighten.

“Turns out,” she said, her voice thinner now, “if you don’t flirt with executives, if you don’t make people feel powerful, you’re a liability. I started speaking up more. Asking for proper hours, better food during filming. Suddenly, I was ‘difficult.’”

You stood, quietly walked over, and sat beside the bed, your back now to her. She didn’t look at you.

“They sent me on solo schedules. Ones they knew would flop. They’d tell stylists the wrong call time so I’d show up unprepared. Photos of me crying in bathrooms started surfacing. Then another scandal. Fake DMs. Alleged boyfriend.”

She curled in on herself slightly.

“They built me up just enough to make my crash entertaining.”

You looked down at your hands.

“So I left.”

The silence lingered.

The cat meowed once, stretching out.

She added, almost like a laugh, “You know what the worst part is?”

You looked at her.

“I was good. I knew I was. I worked harder than anyone.”

She finally turned her head, resting her cheek on the pillow.

“But the world doesn’t reward good. It rewards compliant.”

Your voice came softer than intended.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head.

“You didn’t do it.”

Still, you reached over. Not to touch her — but just to place the mug on the nightstand near her hand. She stared at it, the warmth radiating.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at you now, eyes sharp despite the dark.

“Don’t ever make me fruit when I’m sad.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“I want to forget what that tastes like.”

You leaned back onto your palms, exhaling slowly.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll make you soup instead.”

Her lips twitched.

Then, quietly, “Only if it’s the soft egg one.”

You nodded. “Deal.”

Outside, the street was silent. Inside, her eyes closed for the first time without resistance.

And for the first time since she walked through your door, she looked like someone not surviving — but resting.

The yolk ran just how she liked it — soft, golden, soaking into the rice. She hummed after the first bite, the way she always did when she didn’t want to admit something was good. You leaned back in the chair across from her, wiping your hands on a towel. The cat had gone back to sleep under the table, warm and purring beside her ankle.

You thought: this is a quiet you could live with.

Then your phone buzzed.

Once.

You reached for it on the table, barely glancing at the screen.

Then froze.

Minjeong

“Can we talk?”

No emojis. No “hey.” Just that.

Jimin was mid-sip, both hands around her mug, when her eyes flicked downward — to the phone you hadn’t turned over fast enough.

She didn’t say anything.

You didn’t either.

The room filled with the clink of her spoon against the bowl. Her chewing slowed. The silence this time wasn’t the good kind — it had teeth.

“She texted?”

You looked up.

She wasn’t angry. Not yet. But something in her shoulders had straightened, pulled in tight like a drawstring. You nodded once.

“What did she say?”

You hesitated.

“‘Can we talk.’”

She exhaled through her nose, setting the mug down carefully. “Simple.”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna reply?”

“I don’t know.”

Her eyes met yours across the table. There wasn’t jealousy in them, not in the dramatic way — just that flicker of old pain. Recognition.

“I get it,” she said. “She was yours. Maybe still is.”

“She’s not.”

“But she could be.”

You pushed the phone away, half ashamed, half angry at yourself for not reacting faster.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“That’s the thing about ghosts,” she murmured, standing. “They don’t wait for invitations. They show up when you’re finally building new walls.”

You stood too, almost on instinct.

“Jimin—”

“I’m not mad.”

“You sound like you are.”

“I’m not,” she said again, softer this time. “I’m just… reminded.”

“Of what?”

Her fingers brushed past the stack of fruit cans near your fridge. She tapped one — the topmost. The label was nearly peeled off.

“That you’re still keeping doors open.”

The apartment felt colder somehow. You hadn’t turned off the stove yet, but the heat didn’t reach your skin anymore.

She grabbed her coat from the hook, pulled it on in one sharp movement.

“I’ll see you at the bar,” she said.

“Jimin—”

“I just need air.”

Then she left. No slammed doors. No drama. Just gone, like she’d only ever been half-here to begin with.

You looked down at your phone again.

The message was still there.

Still unopened.

The cursor blinking, waiting for your voice.

Not even hours later, you fixed your morning self, took a bath, brushed your teeth and put on whatever's clean and headed to the street, minjeong said.

You hadn’t seen her in almost a year.

She stood across from you near the edge of the old park — the one with the broken vending machine and the graffiti-covered benches. It used to be your halfway point. Between your place and hers. Between arguments and apologies. Between love and whatever came after.

Now it was just cold.

Minjeong had her hood up, but not over her head. Her hair was shorter now. Tucked behind her ears. She looked like she’d practiced being okay.

You sat on the bench. She stayed standing.

“I’m sorry,” she said, before you could say anything.

You nodded.

She took that as permission.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

You watched the cigarette burn between your fingers. You weren’t even smoking. Just holding it, like a prop. Like something to do with your hands.

“Start wherever,” you said.

She looked down at the pavement. Her voice cracked once, and she caught it fast.

“I didn’t leave to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I just… I couldn’t breathe.”

“I know that too.”

“I thought I needed space,” she said, stepping closer. “But what I needed was you. You were already my air, and I couldn’t see it. I let everything else get louder. The fear. The pride. The pressure. And then when I looked back—”

“You were already gone,” you finished for her.

She nodded, slow.

“But I never stopped thinking about you,” she whispered. “I still remember how you cooked. The way you cut fruit. How your hands were always warm.”

You looked up at her, finally.

“I missed you.”

The wind passed between you.

You dropped the cigarette and crushed it under your heel.

“Do you still love me?” she asked, and this time her voice didn’t crack.

You opened your mouth.

And the answer was there. On the tip of your tongue. The old one.

But it wasn’t real anymore.

Because when you tried to picture her — the old her — all you could see was someone blurry. Soft edges. Faded colors. A memory playing behind fogged glass.

But when you thought of Jimin?

It was sharp. Clear. Her hands reaching for the lighter. Her voice when she whispered don’t make me fruit when I’m sad. Her laugh when she called you out. Her silence when she didn’t need to.

Your voice came slow.

“I don’t know if I love you anymore,” you said.

She blinked.

“I think I did,” you added. “I think I did for a long time. Even after you left.”

“And now?”

You swallowed.

“Now I think about her when I cook.”

“Her,” she repeated.

You nodded. “She stayed.”

Minjeong took a step back. Her lips parted like she might argue — might ask what about everything we had — but she didn’t.

Because suddenly, you weren’t alone.

Karina stood at the path’s edge, just beyond the trees. She hadn’t meant to interrupt. She hadn’t even meant to find you. But her face said she heard enough.

Minjeong turned.

Karina’s hoodie was damp from the drizzle. Her hands were clenched at her sides.

“She’s here,” Minjeong said. “Of course she is.”

“Jimin—” you started, but she held up a hand.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I do.”

Karina stepped forward. “You told me you weren’t done with her.”

“I said I wasn’t sure,” you corrected. “That’s not the same.”

Minjeong looked at you. “So which is it?”

The silence tightened. Cars passed by. The park stayed still.

And then, without drama, without noise — you stepped toward Karina.

Minjeong exhaled.

You turned to her.

“I loved you,” you said. “But I don’t know how to go back to something that let me break.”

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t beg.

She just nodded once — the way people do when they understand something they didn’t want to hear.

Then she left.

Karina didn’t move.

You looked at her. Really looked.

“You came anyway?”

“I always do,” she said.

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“I didn’t want to,” she said. “But I needed to know.”

You reached for her hand.

She didn’t take it.

But she didn’t pull away when your fingers brushed hers.

“Let’s go home,” you said

Minjeong didn’t leave right away.

Even when you turned toward Jimin, even when your fingers brushed hers — Minjeong stood there, feet planted on the wet grass like she couldn’t feel the cold anymore.

“You love the concept of missing me,” she said, louder now, chest rising. “So when I’m here—now, standing right in front of you—you reject me?”

You winced.

She took a step closer.

“All those voicemails? The fruit cans? The poems you wrote and never sent? What was all of that, then? A performance?”

“No.”

“Then what was it?”

“I was mourning.”

She laughed. It wasn’t joyful — it was sharp, bitter, breaking at the edges.

“Mourning,” she repeated, like she didn’t believe it. “Don’t you dare mourn something you were too afraid to fight for.”

“I did fight,” you snapped, voice rising with hers now. “I waited. I wrote. I begged the universe to send you back. And you came—when I stopped needing you.”

Her jaw tightened.

“You think I wanted to leave?” she spat. “I didn’t vanish for fun, Y/N. I was drowning in myself. In everything you didn’t see.”

“I would’ve seen if you let me!”

“I didn’t need you to see it—I needed you to pull me out!”

The rain started again. Just drizzle. Light and constant.

Jimin didn’t speak. She stood still, arms folded, watching with the kind of look people wear when they want to disappear but refuse to leave.

Minjeong’s hands shook.

“You say I left,” she said, voice splintering. “But you gave up just as easily. You moved on. Like I was a chapter you got bored of re-reading.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What is?” she whispered. “This? Us? Her?”

She turned to Jimin now.

“And you,” she said. “You came in after all the fire. You walked in when he was hollow. You filled what I left behind.”

Jimin didn’t blink. “And?”

“And that’s not real love. That’s convenience.”

You stepped between them before your mouth could stop you.

“She’s not a placeholder,” you said. “She’s peace.”

Minjeong flinched.

And suddenly she was crying—not in the delicate, cinematic way, but ugly, guttural, shaking.

“I gave you my soul,” she said through her teeth. “And you’re giving yours to a stranger.”

You stepped closer. Rain clung to your lashes.

“She’s not a stranger. She’s the one who stayed.”

Minjeong stared at you like she didn’t know your face anymore. Like she couldn’t believe this was the same mouth that once told her forever.

And then, like glass finally giving in to pressure, she broke.

“Then forget me,” she said. “Burn the voicemails. Throw the cans out. Stop pretending I’m a ghost when really—you’re just scared of being alive again.”

She turned to leave, but stopped one last time.

“When you cry tonight,” she said, “make sure it’s real. Not nostalgia.”

Then she walked off into the rain.

You stood there. Breathing like you’d been hit.

Jimin didn’t speak. She just walked up beside you, held the inside of your elbow, and didn’t ask if you were okay.

You weren’t.

But she didn’t leave.

Not this time.

The sun had started to rise. But it wasn’t golden — not soft and forgiving like in stories. It was pale. Harsh. Like a hospital light. And it made everything look too real.

You walked side by side down the slope near your street. The rain had stopped, but your clothes clung to your back, socks squishing in your shoes. The concrete glistened like someone had poured oil over it, and the birds were too loud for a morning like this.

Neither of you spoke.

Her hoodie was soaked through, sticking to her shoulders. Your jacket had long since given up keeping you dry. Even Ghost would’ve refused to come close to either of you right now.

It wasn’t silence out of comfort. It was silence out of exhaustion.

Your fingers brushed hers once.

She didn’t pull away.

But she didn’t reach either.

You passed the corner store. The one with the dented tin roof and always half-working freezer section.

You glanced inside.

The familiar stack of canned fruit was still there. Tucked between dusty packs of ramen and near-expired milk tea.

You slowed your steps. Looked at her.

“Fruit mix?”

She didn’t look at the store. Didn’t even pause.

Just kept walking.

And said, soft, like a sigh,

“No thanks.”

Then, almost under her breath:

“Those expired moments ago.”

The next day.

The kettle hissed softly in the background.

Karina sat on the windowsill, knees pulled up, wearing an oversized shirt you’d probably never get back. Her damp hair was towel-wrapped into a lazy twist, still dripping faintly. Sunlight pushed through the blinds, casting narrow lines across her face, like prison bars she hadn’t noticed yet.

You were by the stove, flipping egg over rice. She didn’t hum this time. Just watched the street outside, fingers curled around the warm mug in her hands.

“Did you sleep?” you asked.

She nodded once, slow. “Some.”

“Me too.”

Ghost blinked lazily from the chair, already dry and smug.

You set her bowl down beside her, not saying anything more. She reached for the spoon automatically, still distracted.

Then her phone buzzed.

She didn’t check it. Not right away.

Just let it sit on the window ledge, vibrating once.

Twice.

Then silence.

You leaned over slightly to peek at the screen.

She did too.

And froze.

Her fingers hovered above the display, hesitant.

The screen read:

“Karina, let’s talk.” Old acquaintance?, Old Agency? Or perhaps just someone special and lived in her past?….who knows.

[bellaaae]

Winter babying and being whipped for YN for 5mins straight [462k views]

— Clip 1✰

At aespa’s concert winter noticed a fan holding a banner with different pictures of YN from black mamba era.

She smiled at the persons direction and held the mic pointing to the persons direction.

“Ahh Black mamba YN!” She exclaimed.

“YN looked so much more like a baby during this era” she said walking around, the other members noticed the banner and also complimented YN’s baby face.

Meanwhile YN was in the corner too into the music that was playing in the background zoning out.

She snapped out of her zone when she noticed winter running towards her with a smile.

Giving the girl a confused look she tilted her head a little to the side. Only adding to her cuteness.

Winter couldn’t help but squeal and put her hands under YN’s chin making baby noises. “Ahh babyyy” she cooed at the younger girl who just looked at her like she was crazy.

Soon enough the other members also joined in on babying yn.

“Huh?” YN spoke still confused.

— Clip 2✰

After aespa finished performing Armageddon YN was choose for the ending fairy.

Yn put her hands over her mouth like she was blowing kisses. She winked and waved smiling brightly.

Suddenly the confetti popped which YN was not expecting making be to widen her eyes which later turned to excitement as she collected all the confetti smiling widely. A genuine smile.

Winter stood in the corner watching YN with a motherly smile.

Another camera zoomed into winter. “Isn’t she so cute? I just wish my phone was with me I would’ve pictured this lovely moment” she said pretending to take a photo.

“Hope fans make videos of this beautiful moment” she spoke smiling indirectly telling fans to make a video of it.

— Clip 3✰

Yn slouched on the couch backstage feeling exhausted.

Winter sat beside her and put a blanket over her stroking her hair. “You did a great job today, do you want me to buy you snacks?” She asked you.

You nodded your head. “Yeah I’m really craving anything at this point” you said making her giggle and pinch your cheeks.

“You’re so cute”

— Clip 4✰

Yn was dared to dress as a sunflower as her punishment on a game show.

When YN came out winter screamed making the members look at her weirdly until they understood why she was screaming.

Yn looked at her flustered. “Minjeong Unnie is so weird” YN mumbled.

Before you knew it winter was all over the maknae giving her kisses all over her face.

The rest of the members were laughing, Giselle covering the both of them while Karina said “yah Minjeong hope you didn’t forget that this is going to posted on the internet”.

✰𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀

[kpoplustzone]

SHE LOVES FATHER-IN-LAW - KARINA SMUT

OCx KARINA

The masseuse looked up and saw that Karina had been transfixed on the spot, looking at her father-in-law, reduced to a mass of pleasure-seeking, spasming flesh. She got up on her haunches and then stood. 

She held both hands up as one was lathed in the cum, and in the palm of that hand, she held some of the flow. Her other hand was stained with the white streaks and oil that came from the fisting she had given with that hand.

FULL STORY ON KOFI - LINK 1, LINK 2

Shop now - LINK 1, LINK 2

[allaboutynn]

THE SPARK BETWEEN US

💐 synopsis — it was good being the maknae of aespa, they always treated you like their younger sister, well Except one member who definitely thinks of you more than that.

⚠️ warnings: Urm idk why I wrote this in first persons POV but never trying that again :/, 5th member reader, avoiding

💬 Rin: first actual attempt at writing something that’s fic related, yay(?) came up to the decision of making this blog my writing fics blogs and created another for reading and interactions!

☀︎︎☁︎︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ꆭ ᷎ ࣪ 🎀ᩖ ࣪ ۪ ̃ ✿

As I spent more time with the members of aespa, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. They were all so kind and welcoming, always making sure I felt included and comfortable. Karina would often give me advice on fashion and beauty, while Giselle would share stories about her love of food and cooking. Ningning would tease me playfully, but always made sure I knew she was just joking.

But there was one member who treated me differently. Winter would often find excuses to sit next to me, or to touch my arm while we were talking. She would look at me with a gaze that was almost... intense. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew that Winter saw me in a different light.

At first, I tried to brush it off as mere friendliness. But as time went on, I began to realize that Winter's feelings for me went far beyond friendship. She would make subtle comments, or find ways to be close to me, even when it wasn't necessary.

I have to admit, it was a little intimidating at first. But as I got to know Winter better, I realized that she was genuinely kind and caring. She would do anything to protect me, and make sure I was happy.

And as I looked into her eyes, I couldn't help but wonder... did I feel the same way?

As I pondered my feelings, Winter's gaze seemed to hold mine for a bit longer than usual. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away, trying to brush off the sensation.

But Winter's eyes seemed to follow me, and I could sense her gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. It was as if she was trying to will me to look back at her, to acknowledge the unspoken tension between us.

I tried to focus on the conversation around me, but my mind kept wandering back to Winter. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we were more than just friends.

As the evening drew to a close, Winter walked me home, her arm brushing against mine. The touch sent shivers down my spine, and I felt my heart racing in my chest.

As we stood outside my door, Winter turned to me and smiled. "Thanks for tonight," she said, her voice low and husky. "I had a really great time."

I smiled back, feeling a sense of nervousness. "I had a great time too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. But then she seemed to hesitate, and instead, she leaned in and whispered, "Goodnight."

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. But at the same time, I knew that Winter's feelings for me were real, and that she was willing to take things slow.

I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Winter and I could explore something more than friendship. And as I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for us.

The next day, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between Winter and me. We had always been close, but the way she had looked at me the night before, the way she had whispered "goodnight" in my ear... it all felt so intimate, so personal.

As I went about my day, I found myself wondering what Winter was doing, whether she was thinking about me too. I felt a little silly, to be honest - I had never really considered Winter in a romantic way before, but now I couldn't seem to get her out of my head.

It wasn't until we met up for practice that afternoon that I saw Winter again. She smiled at me as I walked in, and I felt my heart skip a beat. We exchanged a few pleasantries, but I could sense a newfound tension between us, a sense of awareness that hadn't been there before.

As we began to practice, I found myself stealing glances at Winter, watching the way she moved with such precision and control. She was always so focused, so dedicated to her craft - and yet, when she caught my eye, I saw a flicker of something else there, something softer and more vulnerable.

I felt a pang of curiosity, and before I knew it, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her close and see where things might go. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I quickly looked away, trying to compose myself.

But as the practice drew to a close, Winter caught up to me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice low and teasing. "You seem a little distracted."

I felt my face heat up, and I looked away, trying to play it cool. "I'm just tired, that's all," I said, trying to brush it off.

But Winter just laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I don't think that's it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think you're just avoiding me."

I felt my heart skip a beat, and I turned to her, my eyes locking onto hers. "Why would I be avoiding you?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Winter just smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think you know why," she said, her voice low and husky. And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me feeling stunned and confused.

As Winter walked away, I felt a pang of curiosity. What had she meant by that comment? Was she really suggesting that I was avoiding her, or was she just trying to get a rise out of me?

I decided to follow her, to see if I could get some answers. I caught up to her in the hallway, where she was waiting for the elevator.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. "What did you mean back there?"

Winter turned to me, a sly smile spreading across her face. "I think you know exactly what I meant," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement.

I felt a flutter in my chest as I met her gaze. There was something in her eyes, something that made me feel like she could see right through me.

"I'm not sure I do," I said, trying to play it cool.

Winter laughed, a low, throaty sound. "Don't play dumb," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you feel it too."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as she stepped closer to me. "Feel what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said, her voice husky with emotion.

And with that, the elevator doors opened, and Winter stepped inside, leaving me standing there, feeling stunned and confused.

For the next few days, I made a conscious effort to avoid Winter. I would take the stairs instead of the elevator, just so I wouldn't run into her. I would sit in a different part of the cafeteria during meals, and I would arrive early to practice so I could warm up before she arrived.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see her - it was just that I needed some time to think. I needed to process my feelings, to figure out what was going on between us. And I couldn't do that with Winter around, being her usual charming and persuasive self.

But as the days went by, I started to feel a little guilty. I was avoiding Winter, and I knew she had noticed. I could sense her eyes on me during practice, could feel her watching me even when I wasn't looking.

And then, one day, Winter decided to confront me. We were at practice, and I was sitting on the sidelines, taking a break. Winter walked over to me, her eyes fixed intently on mine.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and serious. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. I knew what was coming.

Winter sat down beside me, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've noticed you've been avoiding me," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And I want to know why."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Winter raised an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I know you've been avoiding me. And I want to know why."

I sighed, feeling a sense of resignation. I knew I couldn't avoid this conversation forever.

"Fine," I said, looking down at my feet. "I've been avoiding you because...because I don't know how to feel around you. Okay?"

Winter was silent for a moment, and I could sense her processing my words.

"Because of what I said the other day?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief. "Yeah. Because of that."

Winter nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "I see," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Well, can I ask you something?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation.

"Do you feel the same way?" Winter asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I felt my heart skip a beat as I met her gaze. Did I feel the same way? I wasn't sure. But as I looked into Winter's eyes, I knew that I couldn't deny the spark that had ignited between us.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Winter's eyes seemed to bore into mine, as if searching for the truth. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart began to beat faster.

"I...I don't know," I stammered, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside me.

Winter's expression didn't change, but I sensed a flicker of disappointment. "Okay," she said softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I understand."

But I could tell she didn't understand. Not really. And I couldn't blame her. I was confused myself.

Winter stood up, her movements fluid and effortless. "I'll leave you alone for now," she said, her eyes still fixed on mine. "But can I ask you one more thing?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation.

"Will you at least think about it?" Winter asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Think about how you feel, and what you want?"

I nodded again, feeling a sense of resolve. "I'll think about it," I promised, my voice firm.

Winter smiled softly, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Good," she said, her voice gentle. "I'll be waiting."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me feeling more confused and uncertain than ever. But also, somehow, more hopeful.

I watched Winter walk away, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I was glad that the conversation was over, but at the same time, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just made things more complicated.

As I sat there, trying to process my emotions, I couldn't help but think about Winter's words. "Will you at least think about it?" she had asked, her eyes pleading with me to consider my feelings.

And I had promised her that I would. But as I sat there, I realized that I had no idea where to start. I had never really thought about my feelings for Winter before. I had always just assumed that we were friends, and that was it.

But now, I wasn't so sure. Winter's confession had thrown everything off balance, and I was left feeling confused and uncertain.

I decided to take a walk, hoping that some fresh air would clear my head. As I strolled through the streets, I couldn't help but think about Winter. I thought about the way she smiled, the way she laughed, and the way she always knew how to make me feel better.

And as I walked, I started to realize that my feelings for Winter went far beyond friendship. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart began to beat faster. I couldn't believe it. I had feelings for Winter.

But what did it mean? And what was I supposed to do now? I felt like I was standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. But as I looked up at the sky, I knew that I had to be honest with myself. I had to acknowledge my feelings, no matter how scary it seemed.

And with that, I made a decision. I would talk to Winter again, and I would tell her how I really felt. I was nervous, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

I took a deep breath and made my way to Winter's room, my heart racing with anticipation. I had been thinking about our previous conversation nonstop, and I knew I had to talk to her again.

As I knocked on the door, Winter answered with a curious expression. "Hey, what's up?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

I smiled, feeling a sense of nervous excitement. "I wanted to talk to you about what you said the other day," I began, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's expression softened, and she nodded encouragingly. "I've been thinking about it a lot too," she said, her voice gentle.

I took another deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest. "I have to admit, I was surprised at first," I said, my eyes locking onto Winter's. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I feel the same way."

Winter's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she took a step closer to me. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling with excitement.

I nodded, feeling my heart soar. "Really," I replied, my voice firm.

Winter's eyes sparkled with joy, and she reached out to take my hand. "I'm so glad," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

As our hands touched, I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body. It was like the whole world had come alive, and everything felt new and exciting. I smiled up at Winter, feeling my heart full of joy and anticipation.

As Winter's eyes sparkled with joy, I felt my heart skip a beat. We stood there for a moment, hands touching, and I knew that everything was going to be okay.

Winter smiled and leaned in close. "I'm so glad you feel the same way," she whispered, her breath tickling my ear.

I nodded, my heart racing with excitement. "Me too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together. And I couldn't wait to see what the future held for us.

✰𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀

[ssivinee]

❥ 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔

AESPA! Giselle x F reader: Once strangers brought together by chance one night, Y/n and Aeri shared a bond that neither expected. Both had dreams of fame, but one decided to make a big sacrifice. Years later, fame and distance couldn’t erase their connection, maybe because they were so in love.

Word Count: 9.5 k

TW: cigarettes and abuse (Mainly verbal with some physical)

Author's Note: THIS TOOK A FAT MINUTE... but i wanted to give you guys a long fic so🤭. ALSO no character concept this time ya'll.

“I’ll always be proud of you,” the woman announces while caressing her child’s shoulders. Her neck was laced with large champagne pearls, and her body was adorned with a lengthy blue Balmain gown as her friends surrounded her. Her husband, Hangjil, wrapped one arm around her waist as his other rested on his son’s shoulders.

Daewan sat in the plush chair with his parents behind him, the family's attire silently screaming thousands of dollars. Meanwhile, you sat in the dimly lit corner. Your plain white ballet flats, ugly sundress, and sad high bun didn’t bother anyone since you were out of their way.

It was as if the people everyone praised in front of them weren’t your own family. You looked like a child without a family—young, yet shunned by her parents.

You were used to it, though. 

Your life felt like torture every day. It always felt as if you were waiting for the perfect moment to run away, or they were waiting for you to turn old enough so that they wouldn’t go to jail for abandoning you.

It came with the cost of being the only female offspring of the Jeup family. The lifestyle was the classic, “Men are the future for this family, and women are merely nothing.”

You first noticed this at the age of four, quickly realizing your brother would always get the most incredible toys while you were left with ‘new’ clothes. 

…Maybe you could’ve even thanked them. It was one of the reasons why you were so emotionally intelligent at such a young age.

Then again, they wouldn’t understand something like that. It would be deemed as a “useless skill” to them. 

The quick realization was that kids in your class, who were the youngest siblings in their family, were adored, spoiled, and well-loved while you had… nothing. Nothing that you could think of, at least.

It made you feel empty inside, but from then on, you never let it bother you.

…That’s what you thought for the majority of your life.

Until the day you turned 18, the sight of your parents towering over you as you sat on the concrete pavement. Their eyes filled with a sense of hatred that you never understood. The downpour of the rain had your hair drenched and sprawled all over your face.

“You're such a disgrace to this family,” your dad spat out as you tried to gather the trash bag of items you could have gathered. “I can’t believe we had a daughter like you,” your mom tears up, her acting being put to good use.

As you stand up properly, the black plastic bag weighing your body down, you see a glimpse of your older brother peering behind them. He leans on the wall, a smirk drawn on his face as he scoffs at the sight of you.

His ‘pathetic little sister,’ something he would always say to his friends. The treatment got even worse when he got into SOPA.

All you ever wanted was to be an actress and make it in the world. Yet when it came to high school applications, you seemed to luck out with every top school that has something to do with the entertainment industry. You full-on had a mental breakdown while your parents practically berated you.

 While it was your dream to make it in, your parents' connections got Daewan in.

That was your parents' final straw, and they would kick you out on your 18th birthday. 

And today was the day… best birthday ever huh?

You didn’t have the energy to argue, knowing full well that this day would come. “You're never welcomed in or near this family,” he declares, shoving you a bit and then wiping his hands. It was like you were some dirty trash to him.

You shake your head at the sound of your mother’s awful sobs, making you chuckle with pure venom dripping in your voice. “You guys never cared about me. Just because I wouldn’t be carrying the family name.”

You stared at them right in their eyes, feeling sick to your stomach while remembering everything they put you through all your life. 

“You both should be ashamed of being parents. You even raised that entitled piece of shit of a monster,” as you laugh with sarcasm, your hand points at your brother, whose face shifts from that cocky grin to an uneasy look.

“What? The first time someone ever called you out, oppa?” You asked sarcastically, grinning as you wanted just to let it out. “Without money, you would be nothing. A spoiled brat who uses appa and eomma’s money to get his way in life. You wouldn't even be able to function.”

“I was waiting for this day,” you looked up, spreading your arms out with a happy smile for the first time in their lives. “I’m finally free,” you whisper, loud enough for your parents to hear.

A wave of guilt flashed through your mom’s eyes, feeling like a terrible mother while she saw you happy in the rain despite your circumstances. That ends quickly when Daewan whisks her away while your dad slowly shuts the door. 

“Don’t listen to her, eomma, she’s clearly mentally unwell,” he harshly spoke, but you couldn’t care less.

Life would likely be harder outside of the large mansion that barely sheltered you, but you were going to make the best of it.

The cramped apartment you called home was a relentless reminder of the hardships you’d endured, yet you clung to the belief that it would all pay off one day. It had been two years since your family disowned you, and the last thing you heard was your brother being possibly part of the Korean Basketball League… likely due to your parents' connections again. 

The sagging twin bed creaked beneath you as you sat on its edge, awakened from a brief late afternoon nap.

The clock on the wall ticked insistently, signaling it was time for your night shift at the convenience store a few blocks away. With a heavy sigh, you slipped into a pair of worn jeans, scuffed sneakers, and a plain T-shirt. 

Grabbing your uniform vest on the way out, you hustled toward the store, shoving your arms through the vest in the back room to avoid another of your manager’s long-winded lectures about being an ‘exceptional employee’.

The shift unfolded predictably in the same way as always. Some shelves to stock, customers to ring up, and long stretches of waiting. It was a straightforward job, and while it didn’t pay much, it covered the essentials—for now. Glancing at the clock, you noted the time: 3 a.m. 

The dull hum of the flickering lights added to the store's stillness, and your boredom kicked in quickly. Your coworker, Gyoungbu, was arranging boxes in one of the aisles.

“Gyoungbu, can you cover the register for a bit? I’m taking my break,” you called over to him. He responded with a casual salute, and you made your way to the snack section. Grabbing a pack of melon cream bread and a cup of instant noodles, you filled the container with steaming water from the dispenser before heading outside.

The air was cool and crisp, and the streets were empty except for the occasional passing car. Across from the store, a small basketball court stretched out under dim lights, its faded bleachers offering a quiet reprieve. Settling onto one of the benches, you lit a cigarette from the box in your pocket. 

As you exhaled slowly, the warm smoke filled your lungs, easing the tension in your shoulders with every puff. You took a bite of the bread, the sweet, creamy flavor mingling with the lingering taste of tobacco. For a brief moment, everything felt calm—simple, even—as the city’s restless energy faded into the background.

You had a peculiar habit: unwrapping the bread while puffing on a cigarette, juggling the two as if it were an everyday routine. Taking a bite, you let the quiet seep in, appreciating the silence of the night. 

Despite the neighborhood or the hour, the sky always seemed beautiful. Whether sprinkled with stars or painted in a solid, dark blue, it calmed the edges of your thoughts.

Another bite filled your mouth with the sweet, airy taste of melon bread, and a small hum of satisfaction escaped your lips. You savored the moment, as short as it was, until a sudden movement drew your attention. 

A girl had appeared, sitting at the far end of the bleachers. She tore into a crinkled bag of chips at a fast pace, her hunger evident as she stuffed a handful into her mouth.

The sight was almost mesmerizing. 

She alternated between sipping from a carton of a milky drink and tossing back flavored chips, her hands moving with urgency. You found yourself pausing mid-bite, your gaze lingering on her. Something was alarming about how she peered into the nearly empty bag, her expression falling ever so slightly at its contents—or lack thereof.

Your eyes flickered down to the bowl of ramen resting beside you. A sigh escaped, the hint of reluctant kindness messing with your mind. Finishing the last bite of your melon bread, you stood and crossed the small distance to where she sat. 

Without a word, you placed the cup of ramen next to her, the quiet gesture laden with more meaning than you cared to acknowledge.

She blinked up at you in surprise, her lips parting. “Wait—” she began, but you simply lifted a hand, dismissing her concern with a wave. Her gratitude was unnecessary. You keep walking, headed back to the store, the faint warmth of her shocked gaze trailing after you.

Inside, Gyoungbu gave you a knowing nod as he resumed restocking shelves, his movements as casual as if the scene outside hadn’t happened. Another customer strolled through the entrance, the bell chiming softly, signaling the return of your routine.

Stepping behind the counter, the repetitiveness of the job settled over you like a familiar weight. As boredom began to creep in, you leaned on your elbow, propping your head up with a hand. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the girl from the bleachers. She stood by the trash can just outside the store, tossing away the empty bag of chips and her drained carton. Her movements were hurried, almost restless, as if she had somewhere important to be—or somewhere she was trying to escape.

She walked away quickly, her figure fading into the dimly lit street beyond the store’s windows. 

There was something about her in your mind, but before you could follow the thought, a customer approached the counter, placing a handful of snacks down with a tired expression.

You snapped back to reality, scanning their items with practiced efficiency, but the girl lingered like an annoying buzz in your mind. 

Would you see her again? The thought hovered unanswered as you handed the customer their change and returned to leaning on the counter.  Yet, your thoughts wandered to her—her hasty movements, her hunger, and the way she’d looked at you earlier, startled but not ungrateful.

Shaking your head slightly, you refocused on the store, pushing the fleeting curiosity aside—for now.

Then Friday night rolled around, and you found yourself back at your usual shift. The exhaustion clung to you like a heavy coat, and your second job earlier in the day left you more drained than normal. As you leaned against the counter, Gyoungbu swept the floor nearby, his broom scraping softly against the tiles.

“You hit rent today?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

“Just by a few buckeroos,” you replied with a sarcastic wave of your fingers, the mock enthusiasm earning a chuckle from him.

“Your lunch is on me tonight, noona,” he said with a grin, and you perked up instantly, throwing your hands in the air in a small cheer.

“Make sure it’s one of those full heated meals, okay?” you teased, pointing at him as you headed to the back room.

Once there, you rummaged through your bag and pulled out an extra pack of crackers you’d brought along—just in case. The memory of the previous night lingered in your mind, and the single melon cream bread you’d eaten then had been far from enough to keep you fueled for a long shift.

Satisfied with your preparation, you returned to the counter, settling into the familiar seat behind the register. The store was quiet, the kind of stillness that made the ticking clock on the wall seem louder than it was, and time to go by at the pace of a snail. For some reason, Friday nights always seemed the slowest.

Most nights, you’d see ten or so customers trickling in and out. But on Fridays, the numbers dwindled to a mere handful. 

Three customers, maybe five at most, if you were lucky. The emptiness of the store felt almost eerie, the usual hum of the refrigerator and the faint buzzing of the lights filling the silence.

You propped your chin on your hand, your gaze drifting to the windows. Finding yourself counting the minutes between customers, wondering if tonight would be another slow grind—or if something unexpected might happen to break the cycle.

After a few slow hours, the clock ticking down to your lunch break, the door chimed softly as a girl walked in. 

Her mask and hat concealed most of her face, giving her a sense of mystery that made her stand out. You watched her closely—not out of suspicion, but with a habit born from long shifts and the occasional need to be cautious. Still, something about her attempt at incognito mode piqued your curiosity more than your concern.

The oversized sweater she wore swallowed her frame, the thick hem nearly brushing her thighs, but the zipper was pulled slightly down, letting the cool air hit her skin. 

She moved in a hurry, grabbing a bag of corn turtle chips and a can of Korean pear drink. Her movements were unhurried, but she did her best not to attract anyone's attention, trying to avoid Gyeonbu, who worked there in the same asile.

As she approached the counter, you noticed her eyes widening slightly as they landed on your face. There was a flash of recognition in them, one that made your brows knit in confusion. She stood there, unmoving, as though caught in a trance.

Her arm stretched out, holding a small amount of cash for her snacks, and you caught a glimpse of her delicate collarbone peeking through the loose neckline of her sweater. She was thin—almost worryingly so—but what stood out more was her hesitation.

“You’re the girl from yesterday?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence between you. The question startled her, snapping her out of whatever thoughts had been swirling in her mind.

“Yeah… Thank you for last night, by the way,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. You simply nodded, watching as she turned and made her way back outside.

Your eyes followed her to the bleachers across the street, the exact spot where she’d sat the night before. She wasted no time tearing into the bag of chips, her hunger evident in the way she ate quickly, almost desperately.

“Let me take that break now, Gyoungbu,” you muttered, and he nodded, handing over your usual prepped meal with a small smile.

In the back, you slid open the plastic lid of the lunchbox tray, revealing a hearty meal: thick tonkatsu, kimchi, steamed rice, tteok, eggs, and a medley of vegetables. Splitting the portions carefully, you set aside the larger serving of protein and a bit of everything else on the tray.

By the time you stepped out, your hands and pockets full, she was staring blankly at the empty chip bag in her lap. A hopelessness in her eyes struck you, and without a word, you walked over and stood beside her.

“Here,” you said, gently placing the tray of food on her lap. She blinked up at you, startled by your presence.

“W-What?” she stammered, glancing between you and the tray. The fragrant smell of spices wafted up, and her expression shifted to disbelief.

“You clearly need it more than I do,” you replied simply, holding on to the smaller lid portions you’d kept for yourself.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing against the tray as she lifted her gaze to meet yours fully for the first time. And in that moment, you felt yourself freeze.

Her face was striking. She was free of makeup; her almond-shaped eyes, framed by thick lashes, held an intensity that contrasted with her quiet demeanor. Soft, natural brows curved delicately above them, and her skin was smooth and clear, a light flush coloring her cheeks from the cool night air. Her lips, plain and slightly chapped, had a natural charm that made her beauty feel effortless.

You found yourself momentarily stunned, caught off guard by how pretty she was, especially in such an unpolished state. She seemed oblivious to the effect she had on you, her eyes dropping back to the food as though trying to process the unexpected kindness.

You settled yourself at the opposite end of the bleachers, climbing to the top row. The cool night air wrapped around you as you dug into your pocket, pulling out a cigarette pack. Not wanting the smoke to bother her, you sat far enough away to give her space and placed the lid of your meal beside you. The flick of your lighter broke the quiet, and the cigarette glowed as you inhaled deeply, releasing a plume of smoke into the air.

The girl noticed the wisps floating into the air from the corner of her eye. Her gaze flicked toward you, a faint crease forming between her brows. The sight seemed to make her uneasy, her lips parting slightly before she finally spoke.

“Are you, uhm… not concerned about your health?” she asked, her tone cautious but tinged with curiosity. The words could’ve come across as rude, but an awkward sincerity in her voice made you chuckle softly.

You shook your head, the cigarette resting lazily between your fingers. “Never had anyone care much about my health,” you replied with a shrug, exhaling another cloud of smoke. The joke was meant to lighten the mood, but her expression shifted, guilt flickering in her eyes.

“Hey, don’t let it bother you,” you added, noticing her reaction. “Doing this helps me relax. Besides,” you said with a mocking smile, “we all die at some point, right?”

She scooted a little closer, careful to stay far enough that the smell wouldn’t reach her. Her fingers fidgeted with the tray in her lap as she mulled over your words, eventually nodding slowly. “I guess that’s… one way to look at it.”

There was a quiet moment before she spoke again, her voice softer this time. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” she said, glancing up with shy eyes.

“It’s fine,” you reassured her, waving your hand dismissively. Taking another deep pull from the cigarette, you leaned back slightly, letting the smoke drift lazily upward.

“Well, since we’re open to strangers,” you began, your tone lighthearted. “Mind if I ask why you’re always eating this late?”

She hesitated at first, her gaze dropping to the tray of food in her lap. She picked up a piece of tonkatsu, chewing slowly as if stalling for time. Eventually, she swallowed and gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh.

“I’m a trainee,” she admitted, her voice barely above a mumble. “The company I’m at… it’s nearby, but they don’t have much money. Honestly, it works in their favor when it comes to my team’s diet.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “So, you barely eat throughout the day?”

She chuckled again, but this time, it was dry and almost bitter. “If you count a baked potato, an apple, and tea as enough food to last an entire day,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Her words hit you harder than you expected, stirring something deep and uncomfortably familiar. Memories you’d buried started to surface—your father’s critical comments about your weight, your brother’s constant remarks, the restrictive diets they’d forced you on. Those years had been suffocating, and you could still remember the ache of hunger and the sting of their words.

You clenched your jaw, feeling an odd mix of anger and empathy. “That’s not right,” you muttered under your breath before looking back at her.

She tilted her head slightly, curious but silent, as you reached for a pack of crackers from your pocket. “I’ll give you my meals every night,” you said firmly, breaking the seal on the pack. “Just make sure you’re here at three.”

Her eyes widened, her expression caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. “But… you don’t even know me,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

You met her gaze, your tone unwavering. “I may not know you, but I know what it feels like to suffer.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, and she looked down at the tray, her fingers tightening around its edges. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, sniffling softly.

The two of you sat there in silence after that, the cool night breeze wrapping around you both. The occasional sound of footsteps passing by filled the gaps, but neither of you said a word. You finished your cigarette, stubbing it out on the bleacher before gathering your things.

As you stood, you gave her a small wave. “Remember—three a.m.,” you called over your shoulder, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

She looked up, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint streetlights, and nodded.

As you stepped back into the store, the soft chime of the door announced your return. Gyoungbu glanced up from where he was sweeping near the counter, his eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

“Just gonna make a girl cry and leave her out in the streets?” he teased, leaning on the broom handle with a smirk.

You shot him a quick glare before flicking him off, earning a hearty laugh. “Relax,” you muttered, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “I’m pretty sure those were happy tears.”

Gyoungbu shook his head, still grinning. “Happy tears, huh? Sure, noona, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, you found your gaze drifting to the large window at the front of the store. She was still there, her back turned as she leaned forward slightly, finishing the last of the food on her tray. Her movements were unhurried, savoring every bite.

Something about the sight made your chest tighten—a mixture of relief that she was eating and guilt for how little she had to begin with. You let out a soft sigh, brushing your hair away from your face as you lingered by the counter.

“She’s lucky you’re soft,” Gyoungbu added, resuming his sweeping with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop yourself from glancing out the window one last time. The dim light cast a soft glow around her, and despite the harshness of the world outside, she seemed momentarily at peace.

Satisfied, you turned away, feeling a small flicker of warmth as you made your way to the back room.

Since that night, you found yourself feeding the hungry trainee who seemed to escape the nightmare she’d ironically call a fairytale. Yet, despite all the days that had passed and the hours spent together, neither of you had ever talked about the subject of names or past lives.

It made you wonder—how did she end up in a life like this? You were sure she had questions about you, too. The way she would sneak glances at you, curiosity flitting across her features before quickly looking away as though caught red-handed, was becoming a recurring sight.

As if summoned by your thoughts, she sat closer to you than usual on the bleachers that night. Her eyes flicked briefly over your fingers, her attention subtle yet noticeable. When you caught her staring, she quickly diverted her gaze, returning her focus to the lunchbox you’d given her.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her now-familiar habits. By your count, this was probably the fiftieth time she’d done something like this in the past two weeks.

“What?” she mumbled defensively, her cheeks puffing out like a squirrel stuffed with rice.

“If you’re curious about something,” you said with a teasing grin, “you know you can just ask, right?”

She paused, setting down her chopsticks. Her eyes shifted nervously, but it seemed like she was finally ready to speak—at least as prepared as she’d ever been.

“You… why do you help me?” she began, her voice tentative. “I mean, you said you understood what it’s like to suffer. W-what did you mean by that?”

You let out a long sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly as you crossed one arm over your figure. As always, your fingers tapped lightly on the glowing stick in your other hand, sending a faint trail of ash to the ground.

She watched you inhale deeply, exhaling a plume of smoke she’d grown accustomed to over the days.

“Have you heard of the Jeup family?” you asked, breaking the silence.

She tilted her head, thinking for a moment before shaking it. “I don’t know any Jeups, not that I’m remembering at least.”

You chuckled softly, the cigarette nearing its end. With a flick of your wrist, you tossed it to the ground. “How about the app, Seamless?”

Her eyes lit up with recognition, and she nodded. Everyone knew about Seamless—the app that had taken Korea by storm five years ago. It wasn’t just an app; it was a lifestyle tool that merged everything from calendars and fitness trackers to banking and search engines into one.

“My father made that,” you said, your tone casual.

Her head snapped up at your words, her jaw slightly agape.

“Then… why are you here?” she asked, her confusion evident.

You chuckled, pointing at her, amused by her sharp observation. “Let me guess—you’re wondering why I’m here, working at a convenience store, instead of living like a princess, right?”

She nodded slowly, her expression expectant.

You leaned back slightly, your gaze steady as you continued. “I was… the black sheep of my family. My mom? She’s one of the top dermatologists in the country. My dad? A wealthy CEO. And my older brother? He’s a snotty, overachieving golden boy who’s just good enough at sports to keep the family connections intact.”

Your chuckle carried a tinge of bitterness as you glanced at her, waiting for her reaction.

She seemed to piece things together, her brow furrowing before her eyes widened in recognition. “Your brother… is Jeup Daewan? The basketball player?”

You nodded, a faint, melancholic smile tugging at your lips. “The one and only.”

You paused for a moment, a scowl slowly forming on your face, “They… pretty much were a family without me. My birthday was on the same day as Daewan’s graduation and they rented an entire all out.”

“To celebrate your birthday and his graduation?” She asked looking at you, but you shake your head, “Just for his graduation. They made me stay home and left me with maids that were basically told to feed me. My parents basically paid them to only watch Daewan… so I stayed home locked in my room while eating some meatloaf,” you scoff, a sad chuckle following after.

“Little ole Y/n was just a girl that was a thorn on their side,” you say, making your fingers like quotation marks. “They abandoned you?” She questions sadly, and you nod. 

“My family did the same thing,” She whispers, her head hanging lowly at the reminder. “Well then what’s your story…?”

She looks up at you, turning her bum on the bench as she hugs her knees. The same old hoodie she wore did its best to keep her warm. “Aeri, Uchinaga Aeri.”

You stare at her and think, what a pretty name. “All my life… I wanted to be a singer. My father was never around and as an only child, my mom wants me to be the breadwinner of the family. ‘Be a lawyer!’ that's what she said all the time.”

“So when you found a company… she wasn’t so happy, huh?”

Aeri nods sadly, “I wanted to make her happy, but that seemed to come along with the price of my own dream. For the sake of my happiness I… I chose myself. Safe to say she was so angry and just kicked me out.”

“Well, you and I are more similar than I thought,” She looked at you curiously. “I wanted to be an actor,” you admitted, and the look on Aeri’s face was telling.

“You? An actor?” Aeri’s eyebrows shot up, her expression toeing the line between surprise and disbelief. The sight stirred a flicker of offense in your chest, but it was quickly overtaken by the sound of her nervous laughter.

“You can’t believe it???” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no, it’s not th—”

“I’m just messing with you,” you interrupted, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. 

The tension in her shoulders eased, and her lips curved into a small, sheepish smile.

“Honestly,” you continued, your tone growing softer, “I’ve wanted to be an actress ever since I was a kid. It was my grandma’s dream, you know? She used to talk about it all the time—being on the big screen, sharing her passion with the world. She made me fall in love with the idea of performing, of showing the world what I loved to do.”

Aeri’s gaze lingered on you, her usual playful demeanor replaced by something quieter, more curious. You leaned back against the bleachers, staring at the distant city lights that blurred into the dark sky.

“She passed away when I was five,” you admitted, your voice tinged with a tinge of sadness. “It was… sudden. I didn’t really understand how to handle it back then, but I held onto her dream. It became my dream, too. Something I could carry for her.”

Aeri didn’t say anything at first, but the way her eyes softened spoke volumes. Her quiet presence felt comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

The night stretched on, and despite the conversation shifting to lighter topics, the memory of your grandmother lingered in the back of your mind. It was a quiet ache, one you had grown used to carrying, but tonight, it felt a little less heavy.

Another night came, the cool breeze of the late hours settling around you as you sat beside Aeri once more. She was closer this time, her shoulder almost brushing yours. You didn’t mind. If anything, you found yourself oddly drawn to her.

She looked different tonight—maybe it was the way the moonlight played against her features, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and the softness of her lips. Or perhaps it was the faint glow in her eyes as she spoke, her excitement bubbling over as she told you about her favorite songs and the small victories in her training.

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring, though you tried to be discreet. There was something about her tonight, something that made your heart skip in a way you weren’t ready to admit.

“What?” she asked suddenly, her lips quirking into a knowing smile.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glancing away, though the heat rising to your face betrayed you.

“Liar,” she teased, nudging you playfully with her elbow. Her laugh was light, and it pulled a hesitant smile from you.

You shook your head, chuckling softly. “You’re just… different tonight.”

“Different, how?” she pressed, her tone teasing but her gaze curious.

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t know. You seem… more pretty. Or maybe I’m just noticing it more.”

Her laughter faltered, her cheeks tinting pink as she quickly looked away. “You’re terrible at compliments,” she mumbled, though the shy smile tugging at her lips told you she didn’t entirely mind.

As the night wore on, you found yourself falling deeper into her presence—the way she laughed, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke, the way she seemed to understand the parts of you you hadn’t even shared yet.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. And as you sat there, the world quiet around you, you realized you didn’t mind falling.

As the bleachers had become your unspoken meeting place. Each night, Aeri showed up like clockwork, her presence a new outlook on your otherwise mundane life. But tonight felt different.

You sat in your usual spot, waiting with the tray of food you’d prepared earlier when Aeri bounded in with an energy that made her seem lighter than usual. She wasn’t the shy, guarded trainee you’d met weeks ago. No, this Aeri was different.

“Guess what?” she announced, plopping down beside you with a grin that seemed to light up the dimly lit lot.

“What?” you asked, curious but amused by her enthusiasm.

“They finally let me write for a routine!” she said, practically bouncing in place. “It’s not official or anything, but I got to lead today’s rap practice. It was so much fun!”

“Look at you, future producer in the making,” you teased, nudging her with your elbow.

Her grin widened. “You wanna see it?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Here? Now?”

“Why not?” she said, standing up and brushing off her oversized sweatpants. “It’s late, no one’s around, and besides…” She turned to look at you, mischief glinting in her eyes. “You’ve been feeding me. The least I can do is give you a free show.”

Before you could respond, she was moving, pulling her phone out to play a track she’d clearly rehearsed a hundred times. As the beat filled the air, Aeri transformed. Gone was the playful girl who had been shy about even making eye contact when you first met. In her place was someone confident, precise, and utterly captivating.

Her movements were fluid but sharp, every step and wave of her arms synchronized perfectly with the rap she also flowed with. You watched in awe as she let herself go, completely immersed in the routine. It wasn’t just the dance—it was the way she carried herself, the way her expressions shifted with the music, the way she seemed to shine brighter with every move.

When the song ended, she struck a final pose and looked at you expectantly, her chest rising and falling from the exertion.

“Well?” she asked, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips.

“Holy crap,” you said, still processing what you’d just witnessed. “That was… insane. You’re amazing.”

Her cheeks turned pink at the compliment, and she waved it off with a laugh. “Stop, you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” you insisted. “You’re seriously talented, Aeri.”

Hearing her name roll off your tongue seemed to catch her off guard. Her playful demeanor softened, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

From that night on, something changed. Aeri grew more comfortable, more open. She would dance for you, laugh with you, and share little pieces of herself that she’d kept hidden before. 

She evem started teasing you more, her quick wit always keeping you on your toes.

Over the next three weeks, you found yourself looking forward to the nights more than you cared to admit. You caught yourself smiling at the thought of her, replaying her laughter in your head, or the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her dreams.

And then, one quiet night as you watched her attempt to teach you a few of her moves—her laughter ringing out every time you messed up—you felt it.

Love.

It wasn’t a thunderous, all-consuming realization. It was quiet, like a steady hum that had been building for days, weeks. It was in the way your chest felt lighter when she smiled, the way you wanted to hear her talk for hours, the way her presence made everything else seem… insignificant.

You were in love with Aeri.

And though you hadn’t told her, you knew there would come a time when you’d have to. For now, you let the feeling sit in your chest, warm and terrifying all at once, as you watched her dance under the moonlight, completely unaware of the way she’d stolen your heart.

But unbeknownst to you, the feelings had already started to flutter in Aeri’s heart long before that. 

It started since the first time you’d fed her—when she hesitated, unsure, but you’d simply handed her a lunchbox like it was the most natural thing in the world. She’d stared at you for a long moment before slowly accepting it.

It had been a small, simple gesture. But Aeri had never been one to let the little things slip by unnoticed.

It had started innocently, really. She’d started showing up earlier, sitting closer, waiting for you to bring her those meals she couldn’t quite afford on her own. And each time, her eyes would linger a bit longer than they should, as if she was trying to decipher something about you. 

At first, you thought it was just curiosity, a girl who’d been burned by the world trying to find something real to hold onto.

But by the second time you handed her food, you noticed something had changed. She had this way of looking at you—so different from the way she looked at others—that made you feel like she was seeing something that no one else had.

The quiet acknowledgment hung in the air that day but was clear between you two.

“Y/n,” she murmured, barely looking up as she unwrapped the lunchbox, “do you know what it’s like to feel so... lost?”

You paused mid-step, taken aback by her heavy tone. “I think I have an idea,” you said quietly.

She didn't respond right away, but you could feel her eyes on you like she was reading you in a way that made you feel exposed. And when she finally met your gaze, there was a softness in her expression that you hadn’t seen before.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You always know when I need something.”

It wasn’t just the food she needed. It was the small, simple act of someone showing up for her, day after day, even when the world didn’t seem to care. And even though you didn’t realize it yet, it was in those small, quiet moments that Aeri began to fall for you—without either of you even knowing it.

And so, in the following days, you’d begun to notice the way her smile would reach her eyes whenever you were around. The way she would pause just a little longer than usual when she spoke to you, her voice just a bit softer, like she was afraid you might slip away.

But Aeri, for all the walls she’d built up around herself, had learned early on to hide her heart behind a wall. It was the only way she knew how to protect herself because she knew in the industry she was shooting so hard for… it wouldn’t be accepted easily. 

So, while she had already started to fall for you, she hadn’t yet found the courage to admit it—whether to herself or to you. She wasn’t ready.

She couldn’t be. Not yet.

But what she didn’t know, what neither of you could have known, was that the feelings you both were trying to hold back were only going to be held with a long pause.

The day was dreary as if the sky itself mirrored your mood. 

Rain pattered softly against the windows of the store, the faint sound mingling with the low hum of the refrigerator cases. You stood behind the counter, aimlessly fiddling with a stray pen, your mind heavy with worry. It had been weeks since you last saw Aeri.

She always showed up, no matter how tired she looked or how late her practice ran. 

But now… nothing.

A thousand thoughts had plagued you since her absence. Maybe she got sick. Maybe she got caught sneaking out. Or maybe—your stomach churned—maybe the brutal idol world she was trapped in had finally taken its toll.

The bell above the door jingled, snapping you out of your spiral. You glanced up to see Gyoungbu entering, shaking the rain from his jacket. He gave you a sad smile before walking over with something in his hand.

“Noona,” he said softly, holding out a small, slightly crumpled envelope. “This was left by a girl earlier today. Not her, but she said to make sure you got it.”

Your heart sank, your chest tightening as you stared at the envelope. It was plain, the paper slightly damp from the rain.

“Did the girl say anything else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gyoungbu shook his head, giving you a worried glance. “No… just that it was important.”

You hesitated, fingers weak as you reached for it. The paper felt heavier than it should, but you needed to know.

The store was quiet—no customers, just the faint sound of rain tapping against the glass. With a deep breath, you carefully unfolded the envelope and pulled out the note inside.

The handwriting was unmistakably Aeri’s, her neat but slightly slanted script staring back at you. The words blurred momentarily as your vision clouded, but you blinked quickly and began to read.

Y/n, I don’t even know how to start this letter. I’ve rewritten it so many times, but nothing feels good enough. So, I guess I’ll just say it. I had to leave. The company… it’s been unbearable. I thought I could handle it, that maybe if I just worked harder, they’d see my worth. But I was wrong. The constant yelling, the insults.  It was breaking me, piece by piece. And a few days ago… they hit me. I can still feel the sting, not just on my skin, but I felt it break my heart for once. That was my breaking point. I had to go. I’m moving to another company. One that seems kinder and more supportive. But leaving means I’m further away and had to leave you. I hate this. I hate leaving like this. But I need you to know something. You were the only good thing I had during these past few months. You made me feel like a person again, not just some trainee who wasn’t good enough. You made me laugh, you fed me when I couldn’t even take care of myself, and… you made me feel seen. I love you, Y/n. Thank you for being my friend and for being there for me when no one else was. Please don’t hate me for this. I’ll never forget you. -Aeri

The note slipped from your fingers, fluttering to the counter like a dead leaf. The world around you seemed to stop, the sounds of the rain and the humming refrigerators fading into nothingness.

Your knees felt weak, and you gripped the counter for support as her words echoed in your mind. She was gone. Gone from your life, from the late-night conversations and the quiet moments where you swore she was the only thing keeping you grounded.

And she’d been suffering. All that time, smiling and laughing with you, she’d been carrying this unbearable weight. And you never noticed.

Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. The cold from your damp hair seeped into your clothes, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

She was gone, and all you had left was her note and the hollow realization that you’d fallen in love with someone who had no choice but to walk away.

The sharp chill of the evening air bit at your skin as you trudged home, the fatigue from juggling three jobs weighing heavily on your shoulders. It had been a month since Aeri’s letter. A month of trying to find meaning in the chaos she’d left behind.

You’d thrown yourself into work, clinging to the routine as if it could fill the void she left.

You passed by a sleek building with a bold sign outside: “OPEN AUDITIONS: WALK-INS WELCOME.” 

Your pace slowed, and you found yourself standing in front of the glass doors, staring at the posters advertising some upcoming drama.

The thought came impulsively, but it burned bright. What do I have to lose?

Your grandmother’s voice echoed in your mind, her dreams of you on the big screen rekindling a spark you thought had gone out. Before you could overthink it, you stepped inside.

The audition room was a blur of nerves and adrenaline. The casting directors asked questions, handed you a script, and had you read a scene. Somehow, the emotions you’d been suppressing poured out, lending raw authenticity to your performance.

When it was over, they simply nodded and told you they’d be in touch. You left, your heart pounding—not just from the audition but from the sheer fact that you had taken a leap for yourself.

So ,four years later, everything had changed.

That’s how you found yourself here, seated in the makeup chair as stylists buzzed around you like bees. The room hummed with energy, the kind of excitement that seemed to follow you ever since Mask Girl had catapulted you to stardom. Tonight was no different—the premiere screening of your latest drama, Fake Halo, was mere hours away, and the anticipation felt electric.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror as one of the stylists pinned back a stray strand of hair. Your thoughts, however, were elsewhere, spiraling into the tangled mess of what-ifs that had been clouding your mind lately.

A sharp knock on the door pulled you back to the present. Hana, your secretary and one of the few people who truly knew you, stepped inside, clutching her ever-present tablet. Her usual calm smile greeted you, but the spark in her eyes hinted at something more.

“Y/n,” she began, her tone light but professional, “your manager just messaged me. You’ve been invited to present the ‘Female Group of the Year’ award at the MMAs this weekend. It’s a last-minute thing, but they’re tying it into the popularity of Fake Halo. Great publicity, honestly.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you swiveled slightly in your chair to face her. “The MMAs? As in, the music awards?”

“Yup.”

You frowned. “I don’t even follow the K-pop scene, Hana. You know that.”

She chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You don’t have to. It’s not about the music for you. It's about visibility, exposure, and keeping your name out there. You’re not performing or anything—it’s just an award announcement. Easy.”

Letting out a resigned sigh, you turned back to the mirror. “I guess. But no sparkly dresses. I’m serious, Hana. I want to look professional.”

“Noted,” she teased, typing something onto her tablet with a grin. “But let’s be honest, you could wear a potato sack, and the media would still fawn over you. Relax, you’ve done scarier things.”

Her words were meant to be reassuring, but the tension bubbling in your chest refused to dissipate. You clapped your palms against each other—an old nervous habit you hadn’t quite shaken to try and dry off the sweat. Something about this felt weirder than it should have as if the universe was quietly nudging you toward something.

Hana’s smile faltered as she stepped closer, setting her tablet down on the counter.

Her voice softened. “Hey, what’s going on? You’ve been fidgety ever since I mentioned it.”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your unease into words. Finally, you muttered, “I don’t know. It’s just... what if someone I know is there?”

Hana tilted her head, her curiosity  wasevident. “Like an ex or something?”

“Not exactly,” you said quickly, heat creeping up your neck. “Just... someone from my past. It’s complicated.”

She studied you for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “Okay, well, even if that happens, then what? You’re Y/n. You’re successful, talented, and confident. You’ve worked so damn hard to get here—don’t let old ghosts haunt you now.”

Her words struck a chord, and a small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. “You’re way too good at this, Hana.”

“Damn right I am,” she said, patting your shoulder with a playful grin. “Now stop overthinking and focus on tonight. You’re going to kill it out there.”

By the time you stepped onto the red carpet, every trace of nervousness had been replaced by the polished confidence you’d mastered over the years. Cameras flashed from every direction as reporters called your name, their voices eager to capture even a sliver of your attention.

You wore a sleek black suit that exuded elegance and authority, a look you’d insisted on despite Hana’s gentle teasing. Judging by the buzz in the air and the admiring glances sent your way, you’d made the right choice.

Pausing to pose for photos, you let yourself relax into the rhythm of it all. The lights, the crowd, the energy—it had become your world, and you thrived in it.

Whatever the MMAs had in store, you were.

The MMA stage was a dazzling spectacle, the lights and screens shimmering with every color imaginable. You stood backstage, the hum of the crowd vibrating through the floor beneath your heels. The stage manager gave you a cue, and you walked out, the applause washing over you like a tidal wave.

“Good evening, everyone,” you began, your voice steady despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. “It’s an honor to be here tonight to present the award for ‘Female Group of the Year.’”

The nominees flashed across the massive screen behind you, and each group met with cheers from their respective fandoms. The envelope in your hand caused the audience to go silent, everyone's eyes currently on you.

“And the award for ‘Female Group of the Year’ goes to…” You paused for dramatic effect, a smile creeping onto your lips. “AESPA!”

The arena erupted in cheers, the crowd chanting the group’s name as the four members made their way to the stage. You stepped to the side, clapping along with the audience as they approached the mic.

And as your eyes skimmed the group, your heart stopped at the sight of a girl with pink hair. She resembled her… the woman you tried so hard to forget.

Aeri.

Her hair was longer now, styled normally to frame her face but the bright color of light pink made her stand out. She moved with the kind of confidence you didn’t remember, her smile radiant as she waved to the crowd. But it was her eyes that caught you—a seductive gaze hidden behind shades, but they were the same eyes that used to glance at you shyly during those late-night conversations.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. She looked at you, and you could see the moment recognition dawned on her face. Her smile faltered just slightly, but she recovered quickly, turning back to the mic.

You barely registered their speech, your mind spinning as memories flooded back. The note, the bleachers, the quiet nights of shared laughter and vulnerability. It was her. 

Aeri. Now, Giselle, standing before you as if the universe had brought her back into your orbit.

The speech ended, and the group bowed gracefully before making their way off the stage. You plastered on a professional smile, exiting in the opposite direction, your heart racing. 

Backstage, you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“Get it together,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

The sound of hurried footsteps made you glance up. Giselle stood there, her chest rising and falling as if she’d run to catch you.

“Aeri,” you breathed, the name slipping out before you could stop it.

Her lips parted, her expression a mix of disbelief and longing. “Y/n,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step forward.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the tension thick enough to suffocate. Finally, she broke the silence.

“I… I had to see you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t just… let this moment pass.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in her eyes, the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for years. “You’re here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I saw you on stage, and I—” She paused, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “I didn’t know if you’d even want to talk to me.”

You took a shaky breath, your emotions threatening to spill over. “You left,” you said, the words heavier than you intended. “You left, and I didn’t know if you were okay. I didn’t even know if I’d ever see you again.”

Her eyes glistened, guilt etched into her features. “I know,” she said softly. “And I’m so sorry, Y/n. I never wanted to hurt you.”

The vulnerability in her voice cracked something inside you, and you found yourself stepping closer, your voice softening. “You didn’t hurt me, Aeri. You just… disappeared. And I didn’t know how to move on from that.”

The two of you stood there, the hum of the event fading into the background. It was just you and her, the weight of years apart pressing down on both of you.

Aeri was so close now that you could hear the soft hitch of her breath and feel the warmth radiating from her. There was no more crowd, no flashing lights, no noise—it was just the two of you, wrapped in the silence of a reunion long overdue.

Aeri’s hand slowly lifted, brushing against your arm as if she were afraid to make the first move. But when she met your eyes, there was something in her gaze—an openness, a longing—that made your heart skip a beat. She swallowed, eyes flickering between yours as if she were reading you, trying to understand the tension in the air.

“I—” She stopped herself, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “I never meant to leave you, Y/n.”

Her words hung in the air, fragile and tender and something about the way she spoke them made your heart ache. You wanted to reach out, to hold her, to ease the distance that had stretched between you both for so long.

And then, without warning, she stepped closer, closing the gap. Your breath hitched, and your chest tightened as she gently cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing along your jaw. You could feel her pulse racing, matching your own, as she leaned in, her lips hovering just inches from yours.

‘Is this really happening? We just saw each other after so many years,’ were the thoughts running through your mind. But were you going to let it happen? Yes. You met her at your worst, and you're finding each other at your best. It felt like complete fate took its course.

It was the kind of moment that felt as if time itself had paused as if the world was holding its breath. The warmth of her skin, the soft scent of her hair, and the undeniable pull between the two of you—it was all-consuming. You had no words to offer her, no witty remark or clever line because all you could think about was the space between you and how badly you wanted to close it.

Aeri’s eyes fluttered shut as she gently pressed her lips to yours, and everything else in the world melted away. The kiss was soft at first, tender, as though she was savoring the moment. Her hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, and the kiss deepened, both of you surrendering to the pull of years of unspoken feelings of what had been lost and was now found again.

When you finally pulled apart, your breath coming in shaky gasps, Aeri rested her forehead against yours. The moment felt like it could stretch on forever, the world around you disappearing completely.

“I want to make it up to you,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady. “I want to take you out. Dinner, just the two of us. To make up for all the time I lost.”

Your heart raced, still reeling from the kiss, but her words were all you needed to hear. It was everything you hadn’t known you needed and more.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your voice shaky but filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “I’d like that.”

Her eyes sparkled as she gave you a small, content smile. And in that moment, with the two of you standing there together, you knew that all that time you lost, would all be found.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Before the World Knew

Part 1

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x male reader

word count: 20K

The automatic glass doors hiss shut behind you, sealing you back into the humid chaos of a Seoul afternoon. You shove your hands deep into your pockets, shoulders slumped, the stiff collar of the button-down you wore specifically for this interview suddenly feeling like a noose. "Nailed it", you think. Yeah, right.

Nailed it like a coffin lid.

That interview was a fucking train wreck. Stuttering over standard questions, sweating through your shirt despite the blasting AC, pretty sure you called the interviewer by the wrong name at least once. You can practically feel the rejection email drafting itself in their system right now. Landing a decent PR job in this city is proving harder than cracking Fort Knox with a toothpick. You thought graduating with a Public Relations degree, even from a university abroad, would give you some kind of edge. Turns out, it just makes you another drop in an ocean teeming with overqualified, hyper-competitive graduates who probably know the right people (something you definitely lack).

It's been a few weeks since you touched down at Incheon, hauling two overweight suitcases and a boatload of naive optimism. Seoul. The big leagues. You figured, new city, new start, maybe finally shake off that aimless post-college dread. You found a shoebox apartment that costs a criminal amount of money and have been pounding the pavement, digitally and literally, trying to find something, anything, that doesn’t involve fetching coffee or making copies for peanuts. So far? Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Just a growing pile of polite "we'll keep your resume on file" emails and the soul-crushing realization that your savings account is evaporating faster than puddle water in August.

Only a divine miracle would be able to make you feel anything remotely close to happiness now.

You sigh, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. The city rushes around you, a blur of impeccably dressed office workers, delivery scooters weaving through traffic like suicidal insects, the distant thrum of k-pop blasting from a storefront. It’s overwhelming, vibrant, and right now, utterly indifferent to your dwindling prospects. You just want a decent meal and maybe to wallow in front of Netflix for twelve hours straight.

Lost in your pity party, you don't see the person turning the corner until it's too late. Thump. You stumble back, colliding shoulders hard enough to knock the phone clean out of their hand. It clatters onto the pavement with a sickening plastic crack.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, my bad!" you blurt out, scrambling to pick it up, praying the screen isn't spiderwebbed. You snatch the phone (miraculously intact) and look up to hand it back, apology ready on your lips.

And then your brain just… stops.

Everything stops. The noise of the city, the frantic rush, the self-pity spiral: it all evaporates. Because the person standing in front of you, rubbing their shoulder with a slight wince, eyes wide behind a pair of large, stylish sunglasses… No. It can't be.

She’s smaller than you remember, but the face… fuck, that face. The perfect, almost unreal symmetry, the sharp jawline softened by full cheeks, the distinctive curve of her lips, currently pressed into a thin line of surprise. Even with the sunglasses and a simple baseball cap pulled low, obscuring most of her hair, it's undeniably her. Years have passed, sure. She’s changed. She’s… Karina now, a name screamed by millions, plastered on billboards, dominating charts. But beneath the idol gloss, beneath the global fame, it’s still her.

It's still Jimin. Yoo Jimin. Your childhood best friend. The girl you haven't spoken to since she vanished into the K-Pop trainee vortex years ago.

She takes the phone, her fingers brushing yours for a split second, sending a jolt up your arm that has nothing to do with static electricity. Her gaze flicks up, meeting yours through the dark lenses. You see confusion flicker there, then a dawning recognition that mirrors your own shock.

Her lips part slightly. “No way…”

Her voice. It’s softer than you remember, maybe a bit huskier, but it’s still Jimin’s voice. Hearing her say your name after all this time feels like being struck by lightning. You just stare, dumbfounded, unable to form a coherent thought.

She pushes her sunglasses up onto her head, revealing those large, dark eyes you used to get lost in during boring classes back home. They widen further as she really looks at you.

“Holy shit, it is you! Oh my god! What the hell are you doing here?”

The sheer, unadulterated surprise in her voice snaps you back to reality. You manage a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair. “Jimin? Wow. Uh, hi.” Eloquent, very eloquent.

She laughs, a bright, musical sound that cuts through the city noise. It’s the same laugh you remember, the one that always made your stomach do stupid flips. “Hi? That’s all you’ve got after, what, six years? Seven?”

“Something like that,” you say, still reeling. “Damn. You, uh… you look…” Famous? Untouchable? Like a goddess who accidentally stumbled onto a mortal sidewalk? “…different.” Lame. You mentally kick yourself.

Jimin grins, the expression lighting up her whole face. It’s that specific grin, the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. God, you missed that. “Yeah, well, a few things have happened since middle school.” She gestures vaguely, a hint of playful understatement in her tone.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you say, finally finding your footing. “Saw you… everywhere, basically. Aespa, huh? That’s insane, Jimin. Congratulations.”

Her smile softens slightly at the use of her real name. “Thanks. It’s… been wild.” She glances around quickly, lowering her voice a fraction. “But seriously, what are you doing in Seoul? Last I heard, you were going to college somewhere overseas?”

“Yeah, I was,” you explain, stuffing your hands back in your pockets. “Finished up my PR degree a few months back. Moved here a few weeks ago to, you know, try and find a job. Join the rat race.” You grimace, thinking of the disastrous interview. “Not going great so far, but hey, Seoul’s cool.”

Her eyes light up, genuine happiness flashing across her features. “You live here now? That’s amazing! Oh my god, I can’t believe it!” She bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, looking genuinely thrilled. The reaction warms something inside you that the job rejection had chilled.

“Yeah, it’s… definitely a change of pace,” you admit. It hits you again: you’re standing on a random street corner, catching up with Karina from Aespa. One of the biggest names in K-Pop. Your childhood friend, the one who disappeared into SM Entertainment and became someone else entirely. What are the actual, statistical chances of this happening? It feels like the universe is fucking with you, dangling a piece of your past right in front of your face when you least expect it. Fate? Maybe. Or just Seoul being a surprisingly small world sometimes.

“We have to catch up properly,” Jimin says immediately, her excitement palpable. “Like, actually talk. Are you busy right now?”

You glance down at your slightly rumpled interview clothes. “Uh, not exactly. Just finished bombing a job interview, so my schedule’s wide open for existential dread and instant noodles.”

She winces sympathetically, then pulls out her phone again (the one you nearly shattered). “Okay, first, give me your number. Is it still the same old one?” You rattle off your new Korean number, and she quickly taps it in, sending you a test message immediately. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

It’s really you!!!

You look up, grinning. “Got it.”

“Good.” She slides her phone away, pulling her cap down a bit lower. “Look, I’m kind of on my way to practice right now, but are you free later this week? Or maybe this weekend? We could grab coffee? Drinks? Food? Whatever works.”

Hanging out with Jimin again. After all these years. After… everything.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, maybe a little too quickly. “Yeah, definitely. Coffee sounds great. Or drinks. Whatever’s easier for you, I know you’re probably crazy busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” she says, and the way she smiles; warm, genuine, a flash of the girl you knew before the fame… makes your heart do that stupid flip again. “Seriously, text me when you’re free. We’ll figure it out. It’s… it’s really, really good to see you.”

“You too, Jimin,” you reply, meaning it more than you thought possible. “Like, really fucking good.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. “Okay, I actually have to run before my manager sends out a search party.” She steps back, adjusting her cap and sunglasses, the idol persona clicking back into place. But just before she turns away, her eyes meet yours one last time, and there’s a spark there; something familiar, something you both thought was long buried.

“Text me!” she calls over her shoulder, before disappearing into the flow of the crowd, leaving you standing there, blinking in the afternoon sun, wondering if any of that actually just happened.

—

The days following that almost-too-surreal-to-be-true bump-in on the street are a weird blur of text messages and tentative plans. You’re talking to Yoo Jimin. Karina. Actually talking. Not just a polite exchange, but actual back-and-forth, interspersed with smiley faces and those little KakaoTalk character reactions she always overused, even back then. You finally manage to nail down a time to meet properly, a casual stroll through one of Seoul’s sprawling, meticulously landscaped parks. Her idea. Probably safer for her, less chance of being mobbed.

You tell yourself the knot in your stomach is just… nerves. Normal, run-of-the-mill nerves. Anyone would be a little keyed up about meeting a global superstar, right? Especially one you used to share juice boxes and secrets with in your dorky pre-teen years. Yeah, that’s it. It’s the Karina factor. Definitely not the Jimin factor, not the sudden, unwelcome resurgence of that colossal, all-consuming crush you thought you’d successfully buried under six years of distance and a different continent.

Nope. Not at all.

But your brain, the traitorous bastard, keeps replaying flashes of the past. Jimin, with her scraped knees and fierce determination during school sports days. Jimin, laughing so hard milk nearly shot out her nose in the cafeteria. Jimin, biting her lip in concentration while trying to teach you a ridiculously complicated handshake. These images, once faded and dusty, are now vivid, almost painfully sharp, overlaid with the equally mind-boggling reality of who she is now. It’s a strange cocktail, this potent nostalgia mixed with the sheer absurdity of her current life. You feel like you’re about to meet two people at once: the girl next door and the untouchable idol.

—

You spot her near the park entrance, leaning against a cherry tree that’s probably in full, glorious bloom (though you barely register the flowers). She’s wearing a dress today, something new, light, and airy that dances around her knees when the breeze catches it. It's a soft, pastel color that makes her skin look even more luminous. Simple, yet on her, it looks like it walked straight off a runway. Her hair is down, long and dark, catching the sunlight. Even from a distance, she’s ridiculously, effortlessly beautiful.

“Hey,” you say, trying for casual, hoping your voice doesn’t crack.

She turns, and that smile (the one that could probably power a small city) spreads across her face. “Hey yourself! You found it okay?”

“Yeah, a park. Pretty hard to miss,” you joke, falling into step beside her as you start down a wide, tree-lined path. It’s surprisingly uncrowded for a weekend afternoon.

The conversation flows easier than you expected, or maybe feared. You start with the safe stuff: how crazy it is to see each other after so long, the "what are the odds" of it all. She’s a natural in front of a camera, even if it’s just her phone. Every few minutes, she’ll stop, pointing. “Ooh, here! The light’s perfect.” And you, feeling like an unqualified, suddenly very sweaty personal photographer, do your best to capture her. She poses with an easy grace, a slight tilt of her head, a playful smile, a candid laugh as a gust of wind messes with her hair. Each shot is stunning. She’s just…photogenic doesn’t even begin to cover it. She makes a random park bench look like a high-fashion editorial.

“So,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear after a particularly enthusiastic mini-photoshoot by a koi pond, “tell me everything. College overseas must have been wild. Did you turn into some party animal I wouldn’t recognize?”

You laugh. “Hardly. Mostly just late-night study sessions fueled by questionable instant ramen and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. PR’s no joke. But it was good. Different. What about you? From quiet Jimin who was scared of the dark to… well, Karina, leader of Aespa, breaking records and being the it girl of this generation. How does that even happen?”

She chuckles, a soft, genuine sound. “It’s… a lot. Still feels unreal sometimes. The training was brutal, no lie. There were days I wanted to quit, thought I wasn’t good enough.” Her voice drops a little, a hint of vulnerability seeping through. “But then… we debuted, and suddenly everything changed. The fans, the music, performing… it’s a different kind of magic, you know?”

You nod, trying to imagine it. The Jimin you knew was fiercely talented, Always singing and dancing at school talent shows, but this level of fame? It’s on another planet. “I can’t even picture it. Standing on those huge stages, millions of people screaming your name.”

“It’s terrifying and amazing all at once,” she admits. “But enough about me. What about your job hunt? Any better luck since… the sidewalk incident?” She grins, and you groan.

“Marginally. Had a couple more interviews. One was for a junior PR role at a gaming company, actually sounded pretty cool, but I think I fumbled the ‘what’s your five-year plan?’ question. Said something about ‘not starving’ which, in hindsight, maybe wasn’t the power move I thought it was.”

Jimin laughs, bumping your shoulder playfully. “Hey, honesty is a virtue. Besides, gaming PR? You’d be great at that. You practically lived in arcades back in the day.”

“True. But ‘great at Street Fighter’ doesn’t exactly scream ‘hire me’ on a resume.” You sigh. “It’s tough out here, man. Competition’s insane.”

She nods, her expression turning more serious. “How are you managing? Like, financially? Seoul’s not cheap.”

You shrug, trying to keep it light. “Oh, you know. Freelance gigs here and there. Been doing some weekend shifts at a department store in Myeongdong, in the electronics section. Surprisingly good for people-watching. And it pays the bills. Barely.” You force a smile. “It’s fine. Temporary. Just until something in PR lands.”

Jimin stops walking, turning to face you properly. She’s biting her lip, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. “Send me your resume.”

“What?”

“Your resume,” she repeats, more firmly this time. “And your portfolio, if you have one. Anything that shows off your PR skills. I’ll send it to the team at SM.”

You can’t help it; a laugh bursts out of you, loud and incredulous. “Jimin, no. Come on.” You even raise your hands in a placating gesture. “I appreciate it, seriously, that’s incredibly sweet of you, but… SM Entertainment? They’re not going to hire some random, inexperienced guy who just rolled into the country. Especially not for their PR team. They probably have a waiting list a mile long of geniuses with connections.”

Her expression doesn’t waver. If anything, it becomes more determined. “Don’t doubt me. And don’t doubt yourself. You’re smart, you’re good with people, you get how things work. Just send it to me. What’s the worst that can happen? They say no? Big deal. You’re already getting that.”

There’s a conviction in her voice that’s hard to argue with, even though every rational part of your brain is screaming that this is a pipe dream. “I… I don’t want you to go out on a limb for me, Jimin. Especially if it’s for nothing.”

“It’s not for nothing if I believe in you, is it?” she says softly, and damn her, that hits you right in the feelings. “Just promise me you’ll send it. Please?”

You let out a long breath, rubbing the back of your neck. She’s looking at you with that earnest, hopeful expression, and you know you’re going to cave. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll send it tonight.” You still think it’s a snowball’s chance in hell, but for her? You’ll try.

She beams, her good mood instantly restored. “Good! It would be so crazy if we ended up working at the same place, wouldn’t it? Like fate, again!”

“Yeah,” you agree, a small, hesitant smile on your own face. “Completely insane.” But the thought, as outlandish as it seems, sparks a tiny, traitorous flicker of hope. It’s nice, you realize, to have someone in your corner. Someone who, despite the years and the fame, still seems to genuinely care.

“Ice cream break?” she suggests, pointing towards a small vendor cart surrounded by happy kids. “My treat. To celebrate your future employment at SM.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you groan, but you’re already following her, the weight on your shoulders feeling a little lighter than it did before.

The ice cream is sweet, cold, and a welcome distraction. You talk about lighter things: terrible movies you’ve both seen, the weirdest food trends in Seoul, the time you both tried to dye your hair with Kool-Aid in eighth grade and ended up looking like deranged parrots. It’s easy, comfortable, like no time has passed at all.

As the sun begins to dip lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you find yourselves back near the park entrance.

“This was… really great, Jimin,” you say, meaning it. “Thanks for today.”

“I had fun too,” she replies, her smile soft. “We definitely need to do this again. And sooner than another six years, okay?”

“Deal.”

She pulls out her phone. “Okay, one more photo. But this time, you have to be in it.”

You instinctively start to protest. “Oh, no, I’m good. I’ll just–”

“Nope! Non-negotiable,” she says, already switching to the front-facing camera. She grabs your arm, pulling you closer until your shoulders are pressed together. You’re acutely aware of her warmth, the faint scent of her perfume, the way her hair tickles your cheek. She holds the phone up, angling it for the perfect shot. “Okay, smile! Or… try not to look like you’re being held hostage.”

You manage a slightly stiff, awkward smile as she snaps a few pictures. She scrolls through them, a pleased expression on her face. “Cute! See? Not so bad.” She shows you one where you’re both actually smiling, the city lights just starting to twinkle in the background. It is cute. This crazy, unexpected reunion, now captured in a small digital frame.

She sends the photo to you, and as you look at it on your own screen, a feeling of… something warm, something hopeful, settles in your chest. Okay, maybe this move to Seoul wasn't a complete disaster after all. Maybe fate really does have a weird sense of humor. And maybe that spark you both felt isn't just a relic of the past.

—

You’re elbow-deep in a tangled mess of headphones and Bluetooth speakers at your soul-crushing electronics store job a few days later, trying to explain to a very persistent customer why his twenty-year-old MP3 player probably isn’t compatible with the latest Bose noise-cancelling monstrosities, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You almost ignore it (probably another scam likely call) but the insistent vibration continues. Excusing yourself with a strained smile, you fish it out.

Unknown number.

You almost swipe it away, but something makes you answer. “Hello?”

A clear female voice speaks your name.

“Uh, yes, it’s me,” you reply, already bracing for a sales pitch.

“This is Kim Hana from SM Entertainment’s Human Resources department. We received your resume regarding a potential opening in our Artist Relations team, specifically working with Aespa. Are you available for an interview later this week?”

Your brain short-circuits. SM Entertainment? Aespa? You almost swallow your tongue. The headphones in your hand slip, clattering onto the counter. The customer gives you a weird look. You try to speak, but only a strangled squeak comes out. Clearing your throat violently, you manage, “Excuse me? SM… Entertainment?”

“Yes,” Ms. Kim says, her voice betraying no hint of surprise at your shock. “Yoo Jimin forwarded your details. She spoke very highly of you. We have an opening for a Junior PR and Communications liaison for Aespa’s team. It involves assisting with press releases, social media coordination, and general support for the group's public-facing activities. Would Thursday at 2 PM work for you?”

Yoo Jimin. Holy shit. She actually did it. Your head is spinning. This has to be a prank. But the voice on the other end sounds far too official, far too… SM.

“Uh, yes! Yes, Thursday at 2 PM is… perfect,” you stammer, your mind racing a mile a minute. Junior PR liaison. For aespa. Working with Jimin. This is insane.

“Excellent. We’ll send a confirmation email with the details and address. Please bring a physical copy of your resume. We look forward to meeting you.”

“Thank you! I mean, yes, looking forward to it too!”

The line clicks dead. You stare at your phone, then at the annoyed customer, then back at your phone. Your first instinct is to call Jimin. You dial her number before you even consciously decide to, heart hammering against your ribs.

She picks up on the third ring. “Hey! What’s up?” Her voice is bright, cheerful.

“Jimin! You… you actually sent my resume to SM?” you blurt out, pacing behind the counter.

She laughs, that easy, musical sound. “Of course, I did. I told you I would, didn’t I? So, did they call you?” There’s a playful, knowing tone in her voice. She knew.

“They just called! I have an interview on Thursday! For a PR liaison role with Aespa! Jimin, this is… I don’t even know what to say. Thank you isn’t enough.”

“Hey, no need to thank me,” she says, her voice warm. “You’re qualified. You just needed a foot in the door. Now go ace that interview. I know you can.”

“But… SM? And working with your team? That’s… that’s insane.”

“Is it?” she teases. “Or is it fate? Again?” You can practically hear her smiling. “Just be yourself. They’ll love you. And hey,” her voice drops a little, becoming softer, more personal, “it would be pretty cool to see you around the office.”

“Yeah,” you manage, your voice a little breathless. “Yeah, it really would.”

—

Two days later, you’re standing in front of the imposing SM Entertainment building, dressed in your only decent suit, clutching your resume like they’re religious relics. The place is even more intimidating from the inside. Sleek, modern, buzzing with an undercurrent of focused energy. You see trainees rushing by, staff members with headsets, snippets of music drifting from behind closed doors. It’s a whole other world.

The interview itself is a blur. You meet with Ms. Kim from HR and a stern-faced senior manager from the Artist Relations department. They grill you on your PR experience (minimal, aside from college projects), your knowledge of the K-Pop industry (decent, from a fan perspective), and your ability to handle pressure (questionable, judging by the sweat currently soaking your palms). You try your best, channeling every ounce of professionalism you can muster, talking about your degree, your adaptability, your passion for creative communication. You highlight your international college experience, hoping it sounds impressive. You don’t mention Jimin, not directly, but you talk about your admiration for Aespa’s innovative concepts and global appeal.

When it’s over, you’re convinced you’ve blown it. You thank them, shake their hands, and walk out feeling a familiar wave of disappointment. Well, at least you got to see the inside of SM. That’s something, right?

You’re about to head for the exit, already composing a ‘thanks anyway’ text to Jimin, when you spot her. She’s further down the hallway, talking to someone who looks like a choreographer, dressed in stylish dance practice gear. Your heart does a nervous leap. You almost don’t approach her, but then she turns, her eyes meeting yours. A bright smile instantly lights up her face.

“Hey! How did it go?” she asks, excusing herself from the choreographer and walking towards you.

You can’t help but smile back, despite the lingering anxiety. “Hey. It was… an experience.”

She tilts her head, searching your face. “That doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.”

You sigh. “Honestly, Jimin, I think I tanked it. I was a nervous wreck. Pretty sure I forgot my own name at one point.”

Jimin just laughs, lightly punching your arm. “Oh, stop it. I’m sure you were great.” Then, her eyes sparkling with mischief, she asks, “So, did they offer you the job on the spot? Did they weep with joy at finding such a PR prodigy?”

“Hardly. They said they’d be in touch. Which is corporate speak for ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you, and by ‘we’ll call you,’ we mean never.’”

Just as you say it, your phone buzzes. You glance down. It’s Ms. Kim from SM. Your blood runs cold. Jimin peers at your screen, her eyes widening. “Well? Answer it!”

With trembling fingers, you swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hello,” Ms. Kim’s voice says. “We were very impressed with your interview. The team feels your background and enthusiasm would be a great asset. We’d like to offer you the Junior PR and Communications Liaison position for Aespa. Congratulations.”

You actually sway on your feet. Jimin grabs your arm, her eyes wide and questioning. You just stare at her, speechless, a slow, disbelieving grin spreading across your face. You manage to stammer out a “Thank you, I accept!” to Ms. Kim, who tells you HR will be in touch with the contract and start date details.

As soon as you hang up, Jimin is practically bouncing. “You got it?! You actually got the job?!”

You nod, still in shock, then burst out laughing. “I got the job! Holy shit, Jimin, I actually got the job!”

“I told you!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around you in a spontaneous, ecstatic hug. You hug her back, lifting her off the ground slightly, both of you laughing like idiots in the middle of an SM Entertainment hallway. When you finally set her down, you look at her, your heart full. “Thank you, Jimin. Seriously. This… this is because of you. I owe you big time.”

She waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is radiant. “You owed me for that time I covered for you when you broke Mrs. Lee’s prize-winning bonsai tree in fifth grade. Now we’re even.” She winks. “Besides, it’s going to be awesome having you here. Just try not to be too starstruck all the time, okay?”

“No promises,” you say, still grinning like a fool. Working at SM. With Jimin. This is actually happening.

—

Your first day is a whirlwind. You’re officially part of Aespa’s core PR team. The office is a hive of activity, a stark contrast to the quiet desperation of your job hunt. You meet your direct supervisor, a sharp, no-nonsense woman named Ms. Park, who walks you through your responsibilities: drafting social media posts, liaising with journalists (under strict supervision, of course), helping coordinate schedules for interviews and appearances, and generally being an all-hands-on-deck support for the group’s public image. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s exciting. You’re actually doing PR, not just theorizing about it in a classroom. And the best part? Your desk is in the same wing as Aespa’s dedicated team rooms. You can hear snippets of their music, see them occasionally passing in the hallways. It’s surreal.

During a much-needed lunch break, you’re trying to decipher the SM cafeteria menu when Jimin appears at your elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Lost, newbie?” she teases.

“Completely,” you admit. “This place is a maze. And I think I accidentally ordered fermented skate for lunch.”

Jimin laughs, shaking her head. “Rookie mistake. Come on, I’ll show you the good stuff. And then there are some people I want you to meet.”

She leads you through the bustling cafeteria to a slightly quieter corner where three other girls are already seated, chatting animatedly. Your breath catches. Ningning. Giselle. Winter. The Aespa. In the flesh. Eating bibimbap.

Jimin grins, pulling you forward. “Girls, here he is. He’s the new PR liaison for our team. And also my super old, super dorky childhood friend.”

All three of them look up, their expressions ranging from curious to friendly.

Ningning, with bright, expressive eyes, offers a wide smile. “Oh, you’re the friend Jimin’s been talking about! Welcome to the chaos! I’m Ning Yizhuo.” Her energy is infectious.

Giselle, looking effortlessly chic even in casual clothes, gives you a cool, appraising nod. “Hey. Aeri Uchinaga. Or Giselle, whichever you prefer. Nice to finally meet you. Jimin’s been… enthusiastic about you joining.”

Winter, with her softer, almost ethereal beauty, offers a shy smile. “Hi. I’m Kim Minjeong. It’s nice to have you on the team.”

You manage to stammer out hellos, feeling completely out of your depth. You’re shaking hands with idols, people you’ve seen on giant screens and in glossy magazines. And they’re just… eating lunch. Talking. Laughing. It’s the most normal, yet utterly abnormal, situation you’ve ever been in.

The conversation is surprisingly easy. They ask you about yourself, where you’re from, how you know Jimin. You keep your answers vague about the ‘how you know Jimin’ part, sticking to the ‘childhood friends’ line. They talk about their upcoming schedule, a new music video concept, the usual idol banter. They’re all incredibly nice, welcoming, and you find yourself relaxing, actually enjoying their company. It’s still hard to reconcile these friendly, down-to-earth girls with the powerhouse performers they are on stage.

After lunch, as you’re heading back to your desk, Jimin falls into step beside you.

“So? What did you think?” she asks. “They’re pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, still a little dazed. “They’re… amazing. And this whole thing is still kind of blowing my mind, to be honest. Working here, meeting them, seeing you…”

She bumps your shoulder playfully. “See? Told you it would be fun. It’s really good to have you here. Like, really good.” There’s an undercurrent to her words, a warmth that makes your chest feel tight.

“It’s good to be here, Jimin,” you reply. You look at her, and her presence so close to you makes you feel a mix of strange sensations; your childhood friend, now a global superstar, who somehow pulled strings to get you a job at one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world, just so you could be close. The thought is overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

The dynamic between you is already shifting, the old, forgotten feelings bubbling closer to the surface now that you’re in her orbit again. And as you walk back to your new desk, you wonder if she is also feeling the same way as you.

—

It’s been a couple of weeks since you officially became Junior PR and Communications Liaison for Aespa, and that initial feeling (the one that hit you walking back to your desk after Jimin’s introduction to her members, that premonition of everything changing) hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s intensified.

You try to shove it down, to compartmentalize. You’re here to work, to prove Ms. Park, your sharp-as-a-tack supervisor, right for hiring you (even if Jimin’s recommendation was the battering ram that got your resume through the door). You spend your days buried in spreadsheets tracking social media engagement, drafting press release snippets that get dissected and reassembled ten times over, and fetching coffee more often than you’d care to admit. It’s grunt work, mostly, the bottom rung of the PR ladder, but it’s real. You’re in the game. And every so often, you catch a glimpse of the glittering prize: a quick, positive comment from Ms. Park on a draft, a nod of approval from the senior team members, the quiet satisfaction of a task completed efficiently.

Your attempts to maintain an air of cool professionalism around Jimin are… a work in progress. A fucking daily battle, if you’re being honest with yourself. She, on the other hand, seems to have no such internal conflict. Jimin is clearly, unequivocally, incandescently happy you’re there. It’s in the way her eyes light up when she spots you across the bustling open-plan office, the way she makes a beeline for your desk pretending to need a paperclip or ask about a non-existent email, her shoulder brushing yours a little too long as she leans in. It’s in the extra-bright "Morning!" that cuts through the general office murmur, often accompanied by a smuggled pastry from some high-end bakery she “just happened to pass.”

You try to reciprocate with a polite, colleague-appropriate smile and a "Morning, Jimin-ssi," emphasizing the honorific, a subtle reminder of the professional context. Sometimes. Other times, when she winks, or her smile is just for you, that old, familiar warmth floods your chest, and "Jimin-ah" slips out before you can catch it, a relic from a time before honorifics and idol personas mattered between you two. Her answering grin on those occasions is like a shot of pure sunshine, potent and dangerously addictive.

The other Aespa members are great. Ningning often swings by your desk to ask about some new Western slang she’s heard or to show you funny videos on her phone. She’s easy to talk to, her curiosity genuine, and you find yourself quickly falling into a comfortable banter with her. Giselle is cooler, more reserved initially, but possesses a dry wit that catches you off guard and makes you laugh out loud. She’s sharp, observant, and you get the feeling not much gets past her. Winter is quieter, often observing with a gentle smile, but when she does speak, it’s thoughtful and kind. You make a point of being equally friendly and professional with all of them, mindful of your role. You’re part of their team, here to support them, not to be a distraction or play favorites.

It's during one of these interactions with Ningning, about a week into your third week, that you notice it for the first time. You’re both hunched over your monitor, Ningning giggling as you try to explain the nuances of a particularly baffling English meme that’s gone viral. You’re leaning back in your chair, pointing at the screen, and she’s close, peering over your shoulder, her hair tickling your ear. It's an innocent, work-adjacent moment.

"Ah! So that's what it means!" Ningning exclaims, clapping her hands together. "Okay, okay, I get it now. You have a future as an official idol translator."

You chuckle. "Modesty aside, I am really well versed in the nuances of the English language, especially when it comes to memes."

"Apparently!”

The weeks bleed into a month, then two. You’re no longer the wide-eyed newbie fumbling with the coffee machine or getting lost on the way to the third-floor dance studios. You’ve found your rhythm in the relentless pulse of SM Entertainment. Your PR drafts for Aespa are getting fewer red marks from Ms. Park, you’ve memorized the building’s labyrinthine layout (mostly), and you actually feel like you’re contributing something more than just an extra body in meetings. You’ve even started to differentiate between the dozen slightly different shades of black that seem to constitute 90% of the staff’s wardrobe.

The other members of Aespa have become familiar, friendly faces. You’re careful, always. Professionalism is your mantra. You’re staff. They’re idols. But in those stolen moments, the casual chats in the quieter corners of the building, a genuine camaraderie is forming.

Jimin, though… Jimin is another story. She’s undeniably, overtly thrilled to have you around. Her smiles are brighter when directed at you, her laughter louder. She seeks you out for “work-related questions” that could have easily been answered by anyone else, her hand lingering a fraction too long on your arm when she makes a point. She brings you your favorite coffee "just because she was passing by the good place." While a part of you, the part that still remembers sweaty palms and a racing heart from your teenage years, basks in that focused attention, the professional, adult part of you is on high alert.

You’ve seen the glances. The whispers that die down when you approach a group of staff members. The subtle, almost imperceptible raising of eyebrows from some of the senior managers when Jimin’s interactions with you are a little too familiar, a little too warm for a global superstar and a junior PR guy. Idols, especially female idols at the top of their game, aren’t supposed to be this close, this visibly chummy, with male staff. It’s a dangerous line, and you’re terrified she’s either blissfully unaware of it or, worse, doesn't care. You try to dial back your own responses, keeping things friendly but more reserved, adding the honorific "Jimin-ssi" more consistently, hoping she’ll take the hint. Sometimes she does, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes before her professional mask slips on. Other times, she just bulldozes past it with that radiant grin, leaving you feeling like you’re walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers.

Her thing with the other members… that’s new. And it’s weird, kinda unsettling if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s never anything, like, obvious. She never says anything. But you see it.

Or you think you do.

It’s in the little things. Like when you’re cracking up with Ningning, sharing some stupid meme, and you catch a glimpse of Karina out of the corner of your eye. There’s a flicker of something in her expression, a barely-there tightening around her mouth before it smooths out into a small, polite smile. It’s so fast you question if you even saw it.

Or when Giselle gets all close, leaning into your space to show you a video on her phone, and Karina’s eyes just seem to… stick. They linger on you for a beat too long, her gaze heavy in a way you can’t quite decipher before she blinks and looks away, suddenly engrossed in her own phone.

Maybe you’re just making it up, projecting or something. But then she’ll walk over when you and Winter are in the middle of a conversation, laughing and vibing, and it’s like the temperature drops a few degrees. Her posture shifts, just a fraction, but she seems

One late afternoon, you find yourself in one of the smaller, less-used lounges on Aespa’s floor. It’s a comfortable space, rarely occupied, with a couple of plush sofas, a low table littered with old magazines, and a window overlooking a surprisingly green courtyard. You’d ducked in to escape the main office buzz for a few minutes, intending to just scroll through your phone and decompress. Ningning had found you first, plopping down beside you to complain good-naturedly about a particularly grueling choreography session. Soon after, Giselle and Winter had wandered in, drawn by Ningning’s animated voice, and the three of them were now comfortably arrayed on the sofas opposite you.

You’re in the middle of recounting a truly disastrous blind date your college roommate had dragged you on years ago (a story involving a mistaken identity, an escaped ferret, and a very public argument with a mime). You’re hamming it up, using voices, expansive gestures, and the girls are in stitches. Ningning is practically falling off the sofa, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Giselle, usually so composed, is clutching her stomach, her shoulders shaking. Even Winter keeps asking you for more details about the story, and for a moment, you forget the pressures of the job, the complexities of your situation with Jimin, everything. You’re just a guy, shooting the shit with friends.

"...so then the mime starts gesturing wildly, right? And my roommate, bless his clueless heart, thinks the ferret belongs to the mime and is trying to give it back!" you say, trying to catch your breath between laughs. "And the mime is getting more and more agitated because, apparently, he's deathly afraid of rodents..."

Ningning lets out another shriek of laughter. "No! Oh my god, a mime afraid of ferrets! That’s too much!"

Giselle wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. "Okay, that’s actually the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. Poor ferret, though. And poor mime!"

"The ferret was fine!" you assure them, grinning. "Made a clean getaway into a nearby bakery. The mime needed therapy, probably."

Winter shakes her head, still chuckling softly. "You always have the craziest stories."

"It's a gift," you say with a mock bow, eliciting another round of giggles. "Or a curse. Depends on whether you're the one living through it or just hearing about it."

It’s at this moment, surrounded by their genuine laughter, that the door to the lounge creaks open. You don’t even register it at first, too caught up in the shared mirth. But then a shadow falls across the room, and a new voice, cool and distinct, cuts through the air.

"Having fun?"

Your laughter catches in your throat. The shift in atmosphere is instantaneous, like a cold front rolling in. Ningning, Giselle, and Winter all visibly react; their smiles falter, their postures subtly stiffen. You turn, your heart giving a sudden, uncomfortable thump against your ribs.

Jimin is standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the doorframe. She’s dressed in sleek black leggings and an oversized hoodie, her practice gear, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Her expression is unreadable, a carefully blank mask, but her eyes… her eyes are fixed on you, sharp and intense. There’s no smile, no warmth, just that unwavering, assessing stare.

You scramble to your feet, a little too quickly. "Oh, hey, Jimin-ssi. We were just, uh..."

Ningning, recovering first, offers a slightly strained smile. "Jimin-unnie! We were just listening to his hilarious story."

"Yeah, unnie," Giselle adds, her voice a little less effusive than it was moments before. "He was telling us about his old roommate’s disastrous date."

Jimin’s gaze doesn’t leave yours. She takes a slow step into the room, her presence suddenly dominating the small space.

"A disastrous date?" Jimin repeats, her voice still devoid of any discernible emotion. Her eyes finally flick towards the other girls, then back to you. "Sounds captivating. You seem to have them quite entertained."

There’s an edge to her words, a subtle accusation. You can feel a prickle of sweat on your palms. This is exactly the kind of situation you’ve been dreading, her finding you in a moment of unguarded ease with her members, their laughter clearly for you, excluding her.

Winter shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, her earlier smile completely gone. Ningning is fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie, avoiding eye contact. Giselle maintains a neutral expression, but her eyes dart between you and Jimin. You feel like you're under a fucking microscope, and Jimin is the one holding the lens, her gaze burning into you, searching for… something.

"Well," you begin, clearing your throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. You force a casualness you don't feel, gesturing vaguely towards the door. "I should probably, uh, get going. Got that report Ms. Park wanted… needs finishing." It’s a flimsy excuse; the report isn’t due until tomorrow afternoon, but escape is paramount.

You offer a quick, slightly strained smile to the other girls, who are still looking like they wish the floor would swallow them. "Was fun chatting, though. See you guys later."

Ningning manages a small, "Bye." Giselle gives a curt nod, her eyes still flickering towards Jimin. Winter offers a tiny, almost imperceptible wave.

As you turn to leave, Jimin’s voice stops you again. "I'll walk with you."

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Your mind screams No, absolutely fucking not, bad idea, abort mission! but your mouth, like a traitor, says, "Oh. Uh, sure. Okay." Because what else can you say? Arguing would only make it worse, draw more attention, confirm whatever suspicions are brewing in her mind.

The walk from the lounge down the hallway towards the main office area feels like miles. The silence stretches between you, taut and uncomfortable. You can feel her presence beside you, a subtle tension in the air that wasn't there before. You risk a quick glance at her. Her expression is still set, jaw tight, eyes fixed straight ahead. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head. You brace yourself.

Finally, as you round a corner into a less populated corridor, she speaks, her voice low.

"You and the others seem to be getting along really well."

It’s a neutral observation on the surface, but you hear the undercurrent. You try to keep your own tone light, even. "Yeah, they’re great. Easy to talk to." You pause, then add, trying to steer the conversation onto safer ground, "Isn't that good? They're your members, your friends. I'm your friend, working with your team. It’s good that we all… you know, get along."

Jimin doesn’t look at you. Her gaze remains fixed on some indeterminate point down the hallway. "It depends."

"Depends on what?" you ask, afraid of what will come next.

"Depends if you start ditching me for them," she says. "Because lately, it feels like you’re avoiding me."

Your step falters for a split second. "Avoiding you? Jimin, that’s… that’s not true." The denial is automatic, but even as you say it, a flash of guilt hits you. You have been more reserved, more careful.

She finally turns her head, her eyes, dark and intense, meeting yours. There’s a flicker of hurt in them that makes your chest ache. "Isn't it? What about yesterday, in the cafeteria? I waved, you just nodded and hurried off with your tray. And Monday, when I asked if you wanted to grab a coffee after that marketing meeting, you said you were swamped. I saw you five minutes later scrolling through your phone at your desk." Her voice isn't accusatory now; it's quieter, tinged with a genuine bewilderment and that raw hurt. She remembers specific instances, and fuck, she’s not wrong. You were being short, deliberately creating distance.

Your throat feels tight. You glance quickly up and down the corridor. It’s relatively empty, just a couple of junior staffers disappearing around a distant corner. This isn't a conversation for public consumption. You stop, turning to face her more directly, lowering your own voice.

"Okay, look," you begin, trying to choose your words carefully. "Can we just… can we be real for a second?"

She watches you, waiting, her arms crossed over her chest now, a defensive posture.

"Jimin," you say, your voice earnest, "you know I’m happy to be here. And I’m happy you’re here, obviously. But you have to understand… this isn't like before. You’re Karina. You’re one of the biggest idols in the world. I’m… just a guy who works for the company. Your PR guy, technically."

Her brow furrows slightly, a hint of confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it," you insist. "Don’t you see how it looks? How we look? You being so… openly friendly with me, all the time? The little extra things, the way you seek me out? People notice that stuff, Jimin. Staff talk. Hell, fans would lose their minds if they saw half of it. This industry… it’s brutal. One wrong rumor, one misinterpreted photo, and it could be disastrous. For you, especially. For Aespa."

You run a hand through your hair, feeling the stress of it all. "I haven’t been avoiding you, Jimin. I’ve been trying to be careful. Trying to protect you. Trying to protect us from… from that. From the bullshit that could come from it. When I seem distant, or 'short' as you put it, it's not because I want to be. It's because I’m trying to keep a professional boundary in public, for both our sakes. I’m worried about your career, about you getting dragged into some stupid scandal because people misunderstand."

You let out a breath, the words tumbling out, a weight lifting slightly now that it’s said. You search her face, hoping she understands, hoping she doesn’t see it as a rejection.

Jimin stares at you, her expression slowly shifting as your words sink in. The defensiveness in her posture softens. The intensity in her eyes dims, then something akin to… embarrassment. Her gaze drops from yours to the floor, a faint blush creeping up her neck, painting the apples of her cheeks. She uncrosses her arms, fiddling with the sleeve of her hoodie.

When she finally looks up, her eyes are wide, a little watery, and full of a vulnerability that punches you right in the gut.

"Oh," she says. "Oh my god. You’re… you’re right." She winces, biting her lip. "I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking about it like that. At all." She shakes her head, looking genuinely mortified. "I'm so sorry. I’ve been… God, I’ve been acting like such an idiot. Paranoid." She lets out a shaky little laugh that has no humor in it. "I don’t even know why I’ve been like this. So… clingy or weird. It’s just…" She trails off, looking lost.

Seeing her like this, so exposed and contrite, melts away any lingering frustration you felt. All you want to do is reassure her.

"Hey," you say softly, taking a hesitant step closer. "It’s okay. Seriously. Don't beat yourself up about it." You offer a small, gentle smile. "It’s a weird situation for both of us, right? We’re figuring it out."

You pause, then add, you add, your tone surprisingly gentle, imbued with all the sincerity you feel, "And for what it’s worth, Jimin… you know how much I like having you around. How much I like you. Being near you, talking to you… it’s the best part of this whole crazy thing. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you. I haven’t forgotten that. Not for a second."

Her eyes, still glistening, meet yours. The blush on her cheeks deepens, but there’s a flicker of relief, of gratitude, in her gaze now. "Thank you," she murmurs. "For… for saying that. And for being honest. And for, you know, looking out for me even when I’m being a dumbass."

"Always," you say, and the word feels solid, true.

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment. "So," you say, breaking the quiet gently, "how about this? To make up for my perceived avoidance, and your… non-dumbass-ness…" You grin, and she lets out a small, watery chuckle. "Later this week, or whenever you’re free from practice and schedules, we do something. Properly. Just you and me. No work, no office, no other members. Like old times, but… new times."

Her face lights up, a genuine, brilliant smile chasing away the last of her embarrassment. It’s the Jimin you remember, the one whose happiness is infectious. "Just us?"

"Just us," you confirm, your own heart feeling a little lighter, a hopeful anticipation bubbling up.

"I’d really like that," she says. "A lot." She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling again, this time not with suspicion, but with something that looks a lot like the excitement you’re suddenly feeling too.

—

The relief that flooded you after that honest, vulnerable conversation with Jimin in the hallway lingers for days. It’s like a heavy weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying has been lifted. There’s a new lightness in your interactions, a shared understanding that makes the stolen glances and brief smiles across the busy office feel less fraught with anxiety and more like thrilling little secrets.

True to her word, before you part ways that day, Jimin’s eyes sparkle with that familiar mischief.

"So, about that 'just us' time," she says, leaning against the wall, a playful smirk on her lips. "My place. Dinner. I’ll cook. Don’t look so surprised, I can actually make more than instant ramen."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. "Oh really? Color me intrigued. Are we talking a five-star gourmet experience or something that might involve a fire extinguisher?"

She swats your arm playfully. "Hey! I’ll have you know my kimchi jjigae is legendary. Or, at least, edible. You in?"

The thought of it: Jimin, cooking for you, in her apartment, away from the relentless scrutiny of SM, it feels intimate, a significant step. "Absolutely in," you say. "When?"

She pulls out her phone, already scrolling through her calendar app, a frown of concentration on her face. "Hmm, schedule’s insane next week… What about… Friday? A week from today? I think I have that evening clear. For now, anyway."

"Friday it is," you confirm, a grin spreading across your face. "I’ll even bring dessert. To, you know, potentially counteract the legendary kimchi jjigae."

"You wound me! But deal." She winks, then with a quick, "Gotta run, practice!" she’s off, leaving you feeling a ridiculous sense of anticipation for a dinner that’s still a full week away.

The following days pass in a blur of work, punctuated by those small, shared moments with Jimin. A quick coffee break where you actually sit together for ten minutes, talking about nothing and everything. Her dropping by your desk with a new song recommendation, leaning in close so you can share an earbud, her hair brushing your cheek. The professional boundaries are still there, especially when others are around, but the fear and awkwardness have been replaced by a conspiratorial warmth. You’re both more careful, more aware, but the connection feels stronger, deeper.

Friday arrives, and you spend most of the day in a state of low-level excitement, replaying your outfit choices in your head, wondering what her apartment is like, what it will feel like to just be with her, without the roles of "idol" and "staff." You even bought an expensive cake from that fancy bakery she likes.

Then, around 3 PM, your work phone buzzes with a message from Jimin:

NOOOO! I’m SOOOO sorry! Next week's photoshoot was brought forward to today. I'll be tied up until late. They just told us. I was really looking forward to it. Stupid schedules. Can we reschedule? Please say yes!

Disappointment settles in your chest, but you push it down. This is idol life. This is what you signed up for, being in her orbit.

You text: Of course. No worries at all, totally understand. We’ll find another night. Good luck with the shoot! You’ll kill it.

You’re the best. Raincheck for sure!!! Next week? I’ll make it up to you!

But "next week" turns into a series of near misses. An unexpected variety show filming crops up for her. A last-minute fan sign event gets added. You have a late night at the office handling a minor PR flare-up for another group. The universe, it seems, is conspiring against your private dinner. The expensive cake sits in your fridge, a sad, delicious monument to your thwarted plans.

And as the days turn into another week, something else starts to creep into your awareness, a subtle, unwelcome shift in your own internal landscape. You’re part of aespa’s PR team, which means you’re privy to schedules, collaborations, and the general buzz around them. You see Jimin interacting with other people in the company, naturally. She’s the leader, charismatic and friendly. It’s her job, her personality.

But it’s her interactions with some of the male idols that start to… prickle.

It begins subtly. You’re in a meeting discussing upcoming cross-promotional content, and one of the senior members from a popular SM boy group, a guy known for his sharp looks and easy charm, casually mentions how he and Jimin were just laughing about a shared embarrassing trainee story the other day in the practice rooms. A tiny, almost imperceptible muscle tightens in your jaw. They just happened to be in the practice rooms? Laughing? You tell yourself it’s nothing. Colleagues. Friends.

Then, a few days later, you’re walking past one of the recording studios and you see Jimin through the soundproof glass, headphones on, talking animatedly with a well-known producer, also male, also handsome. He leans in close to adjust something on the mixing board, his hand brushing hers. She throws her head back and laughs at something he says, a bright, unrestrained sound. The knot in your stomach tightens a little more. You find yourself lingering a second too long, watching them, a sour taste creeping into your mouth. You force yourself to walk away, chiding yourself internally. She’s working. He’s a producer. This is normal. Get a grip.

The worst is when you’re scrolling through internal staff memos or even semi-public social media feeds from other idols. A candid behind-the-scenes shot from a music show, and there’s Jimin in the background, deep in conversation with a member of a rival boy group, both of them smiling. A congratulatory post from another male idol for am Aespa’s latest achievement, with a throwback photo of him and Jimin making silly faces from some past event. Each instance is like a small papercut, insignificant on its own, but collectively, they start to bleed.

You start to question yourself, this ugly feeling coiling in your gut. Am I actually… jealous? The thought is mortifying. You have no right. You’re her friend, her colleague. You buried that teenage crush years ago, didn’t you? This is different. This is… possessiveness. It’s irrational, and you hate it. You tell yourself it’s just protectiveness, the same kind you talked to her about, you’re worried about her image. But who are you kidding? That’s bullshit. This isn’t about her image. This is about that tight, angry clench in your chest when you see another guy make her laugh that specific way, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners. The way she only laughs with you. Or so you thought.

You try to subdue it, to crush the feeling down with logic. She’s an idol. Her circle is full of other idols, producers, industry people. Male, female, it doesn’t matter. She’s allowed to have friends. You are being a fucking psycho. You try to focus on your work, burying yourself in spreadsheets and press drafts, but your gaze keeps drifting, your ears straining for any mention of her name, your mind replaying those brief, observed moments, dissecting them, looking for… you don’t even know what. Reassurance? Confirmation of your fears?

This slow burn of jealousy is exhausting. It simmers beneath the surface of your carefully constructed professionalism, a toxic undercurrent poisoning your thoughts. You haven’t said anything to Jimin. You haven’t changed your outward behavior towards her, not in any way she’d notice, you hope. You’re still friendly, still supportive, still the guy she relies on. But inside, you’re a mess, increasingly tangled in a knot of feelings you don’t want and can’t seem to shake, this unwelcome, undeniable jealousy taking root, growing stronger with each passing day, with each shared smile she gives to someone who isn’t you.

—

Most of the nine-to-fivers have already made their escape, and even the usual thrum of idol activity has quieted to a muted pulse. You’re tucked away in a small, blessedly empty meeting room on one of the upper floors, nursing a lukewarm cup of instant coffee. You’re supposed to be reviewing social media analytics (riveting stuff, truly) but mostly you’re just staring out the window at the sprawling grey expanse of Seoul, lost in the delightful internal monologue of your own burgeoning, and entirely irrational, jealousy. It’s becoming quite the hobby, this mental self-flagellation.

The click of the door opening barely registers until a familiar, melodic voice cuts through your brooding.

"Hiding out?"

You nearly jump out of your skin, sloshing coffee onto a stack of decidedly unimportant papers. Turning, you see Jimin leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile playing on her lips. And just like that, the carefully constructed wall of your professional cynicism crumbles into pathetic, lovestruck dust.

She’s not in practice gear today. She’s wearing a simple, cream-colored knit sweater that looks ridiculously soft and some dark, well-fitted jeans. Her hair is down, cascading over her shoulders in those perfect, effortless waves that probably take a team of stylists two hours to achieve. Her makeup is minimal, making her look younger, softer, more like the Jimin you knew before she became Karina, global phenomenon and recurring star of your anxiety dreams.

"Hey," you manage, trying for nonchalant and probably landing somewhere near 'startled chipmunk.' "Didn't hear you come in."

She pushes off the doorframe and ambles further into the room, her presence instantly making the generic corporate space feel… smaller, somehow. More charged. "Sorry to interrupt your very important… paper-staring session."

"It's a critical part of my process," you say, attempting a dry wit that she, thankfully, seems to appreciate with a small laugh. "Deep contemplation of spreadsheet ergonomics."

"Right." She perches on the edge of the ridiculously oversized conference table, her legs crossed casually. "Look, I just wanted to say sorry if I’ve been a bit MIA the last few days. Schedules have been… well, you know. Insane."

"Ah, the glamorous life," you quip, though the relief at her explanation is a palpable thing easing the tension in your shoulders. So, it wasn’t you. Or, not just you. Probably. "No worries. Figured you were off conquering another continent or something equally mundane."

She smiles, a genuine, tired-around-the-edges smile. "Something like that. Endless meetings about tour logistics, new endorsement shoots, trying to learn choreography when every muscle in your body screams for rest." She sighs, then her gaze softens as it meets yours. "It’s just… been a lot. Haven't had much chance to just… breathe. Or talk."

"I get it," you say, and you do. The pace here is relentless. "You look…" You pause, searching for the right word, because 'good' feels like an insult to whatever cosmic alignment is happening with her features right now. "You look beautiful today, Jimin." The words are out before you can second-guess them, honest and a little too raw. You quickly try to backtrack, to lessen the impact, lest you sound like a complete lovesick fool (which, of course, you are). "I mean, you always look beautiful, obviously. It’s kind of your brand. But today… there’s something. Extra. You’re glowing. Or maybe it’s just the cheap office lighting playing tricks on my caffeine-addled eyes."

A delicate blush, the color of a summer peach, rises on her cheeks. She ducks her head for a moment, a shy gesture that feels impossibly endearing. "Thank you," she says softly, looking up at you through her lashes. The directness of her gaze, coupled with that blush. "That’s… really nice to hear. Especially today."

You should probably say something about those analytics. Or the weather. Anything but stare at her like she’s the only source of oxygen in the room.

Then, her expression shifts. A wistful, almost faraway look enters her eyes. "Hey," she says, her tone quieter now, thoughtful. "Do you remember… do you remember that time, we must have been, what, thirteen? When we biked all the way out to old Haeundae beach, even though our parents would have skinned us alive if they knew?"

The question catches you off guard. The sudden shift to such a specific, distant memory throws you. But of course, you remember. How could you forget? Your mind immediately conjures the scene: the reckless thrill of that forbidden adventure, the salty spray on your faces, the cheap, borrowed bikes threatening to fall apart beneath you.

"Yeah," you say, a slow smile spreading across your face as the details flood back. "With those ridiculously ancient bikes we 'borrowed' from your uncle’s shed? The ones where the brakes only worked if you prayed really, really hard?"

Her answering smile is luminous. "Exactly! And then that insane storm blew in out of nowhere. One minute it was sunny, the next it was like the sky just… cracked open."

"Torrential," you agree, a chuckle escaping you. "We were soaked to the bone in about ten seconds. I thought my sneakers would never dry out."

"And we found that tiny, busted-up old bus stop shelter way up on the coastal road," she continues, her eyes sparkling with the recollection, lost in the memory with you. "It was leaking, there were probably spiders the size of my fist in there, but it felt like a palace."

"We were freezing," you remember, "shivering like crazy. And all we had to eat was that one squashed packet of stale crackers I’d forgotten in my backpack."

Jimin laughs. "And we split it, didn’t we? Crouched in that damp, smelly shelter, rain hammering down outside, sharing those awful crackers like it was a feast." She looks at you then. "We talked for hours, waiting for it to stop. About everything. Stupid stuff, serious stuff."

"Our grand plans to escape our boring town," you supply, the memory so vivid now it feels like you could reach out and touch it. "Your dreams of being famous, my dreams of… well, probably something equally ridiculous I’ve thankfully forgotten."

"It wasn't ridiculous," she says softly, her gaze holding yours. "It was just… us. Just talking. It felt like we were the only two people in the world for a few hours."

You know what she means. It was more than just getting caught in the rain. It was a moment of unvarnished connection, of shared vulnerability, of feeling utterly, completely understood by another person, a feeling so rare and precious, especially at that tumultuous age. You remember the damp chill, yes, but more clearly, you remember the warmth of her shoulder pressed against yours as you huddled together, the easy rhythm of your conversation, the feeling that, for a little while, all the complexities of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you and the roaring storm.

"I still think about that day sometimes," Jimin says, her eyes still locked on yours, searching, questioning. "A lot, actually."

Your carefully constructed composure, already teetering, threatens to shatter. All the air seems to have been sucked out of the small room. The irony isn't lost on you; here you are, a grown man, unraveled by a shared memory of stale crackers and a rainstorm from over a decade ago. Pathetic, really.

"Why?" The question slips out, hushed, almost involuntary. Your mind is racing. Why now? Why bring this up? What does it mean?

Jimin holds your gaze for another long moment, and you can see a universe of unspoken emotions swirling in the depths of her dark eyes. Then, she looks away, her gaze drifting towards the window, towards the distant, indifferent city. A tiny, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips.

"Actually, I don't know," she says, so quietly you almost miss it. "I really don't know."

It's an answer that's not an answer, a perfectly crafted piece of ambiguity designed, it seems, to send your already overthinking brain into a full-blown spiral. You watch her, this enigma you’ve known your whole life, and feel a familiar, frustrating helplessness. All those years, all that shared history, and she can still reduce you to a state of dumbfounded confusion with three little words.

She pushes herself off the conference table, the movement fluid and graceful. "Well," she says, her voice regaining a sliver of its usual brightness, though her eyes still hold that distant, thoughtful quality. "Maybe it’s better if I go. Don’t want to keep bothering you with… ancient history. And I actually do have that choreography meeting. Can't keep the dance monster waiting."

She turns and walks towards the door, each step feeling like a countdown timer on your chance to say something, anything, to pierce through this sudden, unbearable tension.

She reaches the door, her hand on the knob. It’s now or never, brainiac.

"Jimin," you call out.

She pauses, her back still to you, hand frozen on the doorknob. This is it. Your moment to say something profound, something that clarifies everything, something that bridges the gap of years and fame and unspoken feelings. Your mind races, a frantic slideshow of possibilities. 'What did you mean?' 'Do you feel it too?' 'That day meant something to me too, you know.'

And then, like a cold splash of reality, the internal killjoy (the one that pays the bills and reminds you of your precarious position) pipes up: She’s an idol, you idiot. Global superstar. You’re staff. This is how you lose your job and become a cautionary tale. Don’t be a walking, talking HR violation.

The grand, sweeping declaration dies on your lips, replaced by a pathetic little puff of air. When she finally turns her head slightly, looking back at you with a questioning gaze, all that comes out is a lame, "It's… uh… nothing. Never mind.”

A small, enigmatic smile plays on her lips. It’s impossible to tell if it’s knowing, amused, or just polite. With Jimin, it could be all three. "Okay," she says softly. "See you around."

And then she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her with a gentle finality, leaving you alone once more with your lukewarm coffee, your useless analytics, and the fresh, agonizing weight of all the things you didn't say.

Hours later, the office has thinned out almost completely. You’re packing up your bag, ready to call it a day and go home to stare meaningfully at your ceiling, when Ningning bounces over to your desk.

"Heading out?" she asks, perching on the corner of your desk like an overgrown, incredibly cheerful pixie.

"Yep. Day is done. My brain feels like overcooked jjigae."

She giggles. "Mine too! We had vocal training for three hours straight. My throat is screaming." She leans in a little. "So, work stuff aside… how are things?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Things? Vague. But… okay, I guess? Survived another day in the K-Pop trenches. You?"

"Good, good!" she says, then her eyes get that tell-tale sparkle of curiosity you’re beginning to recognize all too well. "Actually… I was wondering. About, you know…" She gestures vaguely between herself and an imaginary Jimin. "You two."

Ah. Here we go. The subtle interrogation phase. You try to keep your expression neutral, a Herculean effort. "Us two? Do you mean Jimin? We’re… old friends. Colleagues. As previously established in multiple official and unofficial briefings."

Ningning tilts her head, her smile a little too knowing. "Riiight. Old friends. But, like… how old? What’s the real story there? Unnie can be… a little selective with details sometimes."

Before you can even begin to formulate a suitably evasive yet charmingly informative answer, footsteps approach. Giselle and Winter appear, looking equally ready to bolt for the day.

"What are you two whispering about over here?" Giselle asks. Winter offers a quiet smile from beside her.

Ningning beams at them. "Perfect timing! I was just asking about him," she points a thumb at you, "and our dear leader. The true story."

Giselle’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arches. "Oh? The origin story? Spill it. We’ve only heard Jimin-unnie’s version, which, let's be honest, is probably heavily romanticized."

Winter chuckles softly. "She did mention something about a very dramatic rainstorm once."

Now all three of them are looking at you, expectant and clearly ready for some prime gossip, or at least, your side of the folklore. You’re surrounded. There’s no escape.

"Okay, okay," you say, raising your hands in mock surrender, trying to buy yourself some thinking time. "There’s nothing really interesting in our story. Mostly just a lot of questionable teenage fashion choices and an unhealthy obsession with the same five boy bands."

"Details, details!" Ningning urges, leaning forward. "What were you like in school? Was she always… Karina-like? Or was she a secret dork?"

"Definitely a secret dork," you say, a genuine smile touching your lips as you think back.

This gets a laugh from all of them.

"And you?" Giselle prompts. "What was your role in this dynamic duo?"

"Chief instigator of dumb ideas, probably," you admit. "And expert in procuring illicit snacks for movie marathons. We spent a ridiculous amount of time watching terrible action movies and critiquing them like we were seasoned film critics." You share a few more harmless anecdotes: the time you both tried to bake a cake that ended up looking like a volcanic eruption, the disastrous school play where you both forgot your lines, the endless summers spent biking around the city, dreaming of bigger things. It’s easy to talk about the past, the safe, sepia-toned memories. It makes the present, with all its unspoken tensions and Jimin’s idol status, feel momentarily distant.

As you’re talking, weaving these tales of your shared youth, you see your opening. It’s a long shot, and your attempt at casualness will probably be about as convincing as a politician's promise, but you have to try.

"Speaking of Jimin," you say, aiming for a nonchalant tone that you’re pretty sure misses the mark by a country mile, "she’s, you know, so busy and in the public eye all the time. Must be tough to… have a personal life. Is she… seeing anyone? Or, you know, hanging out with anyone in particular? Just curious, as a friend. Worried about her, you know. Safety, happiness, all that good stuff."

You try to make it sound like a casual afterthought, a fleeting concern from a dear old platonic pal. You think you almost pulled it off, right up until you see the looks on their faces.

Ningning’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and she exchanges a lightning-fast glance with Giselle. Giselle’s lips twitch, a smirk threatening to break free. Winter just smiles like she knows what's going on in your head. Oh, you are so transparent. They see right through your flimsy "concerned friend" charade.

"Hmm, 'seeing anyone'?" Giselle repeats slowly, drawing out the words. "Nope. Can't say that she is. Unnie's pretty much married to her work these days. And us, of course."

"Yeah," Ningning chimes in, a little too brightly. "No mysterious romantic entanglements that we know of! Our leader is a free agent!"

"Why do you ask?" Winter asks her gaze lifting to meet yours.

"Oh, you know," you say, waving a dismissive hand, trying to project an air of breezy indifference. "Just… she’s an old friend. You worry about your friends, right? Want them to be happy, not get mixed up with… undesirables. Standard friend protocol."

The three of them share another look. This one is longer, more laden with unspoken understanding. It’s the kind of look that says, “Oh, honey, you are so delightfully screwed.”

"Right," Giselle says. "Undesirables. Of course."

Ningning nods vigorously. "Totally. Friend protocol. We get it."

"So," Giselle starts, "all these shared memories, the dorky school days… was there ever, you know, anything more? Between you two back then?"

You can feel the heat rising up your neck. Your brain is frantically sifting through a thousand possible deflections, each one more unconvincing than the last. This is where your PR training truly shines, in the art of saying absolutely nothing while appearing to consider something deeply. A true masterclass in verbal evasion is about to unfold, you can just feel it.

"I mean, the bond between you two is… remarkable," Ningning adds, helpfully twisting the knife. "Unnie was so, so excited when she found out you were coming to work here. Like, beyond normal 'old friend joining the company' excited. More like 'rare Pokémon spotted in the wild' excited."

Giselle snorts delicately. "Eloquent, Ningning. But she’s right. There’s definitely… a vibe."

Just as you’re about to launch into what would undoubtedly be a completely disastrous attempt at a nonchalant denial, a voice cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"There you guys are! I’ve been looking all over for you."

Jimin. Of course. Her timing is, as always, impeccably dramatic. She steps into the lounge, her gaze sweeping over her members, then landing on you, a slight question in her eyes. She’s still in her practice clothes, a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead, making her look both ethereal and remarkably real. The girls, bless their meddling, gossipy hearts, snap into action with the practiced ease of seasoned operatives.

"Oh, hey, Unnie!" Ningning chirps. "We were just… talking."

"About what?" Jimin asks, stepping further into the room, her gaze lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than strictly necessary. Or maybe you’re just imagining that part. Your imagination has been working overtime lately, particularly where she’s concerned.

"Nothing major," Giselle says smoothly, waving a dismissive hand. "Silly things. Random office gossip. You know how it is." She stands, stretching languidly. "Actually, we should probably head out. It’s getting seriously late.”

"Yeah, same," Ningning agrees, bouncing to her feet. Winter nods, already halfway to the door. "My everything aches."

You seize the opportunity, a drowning man grasping at a life raft made of convenient excuses. "Me too, actually. Long day. Lots of… spreadsheets." You try for a weary, put-upon sigh. You’re not sure it lands.

The girls offer quick goodbyes, a chorus of "See ya!" and "Night, Unnie!" and then they’re gone, leaving you and Jimin standing in the sudden quiet of the empty lounge. She turns to you. "They keeping you entertained?"

"They’re… a force of nature," you admit. "Never a dull moment."

"Tell me about it," she says with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of a thousand schedules. "Well, I guess I should let you escape too." She gestures towards the door. "I’m heading out as well. Want to walk?"

And just like that, you’re accompanying her again, the two of you falling into step as you navigate the increasingly deserted corridors of SM Entertainment. You find yourself acutely aware of the space between you, of the subtle scent of her perfume, of the way her hair catches the low evening light filtering through the hallway windows. It’s all terribly poetic and deeply unhelpful for your already addled state of mind.

As you approach the main lobby, her voice, soft and a little melancholic, breaks the quiet. "Have you ever wondered," she begins, not looking at you, her gaze fixed on the gleaming marble floor, "what might have happened? If… if things had been different? If I hadn’t gone into training when I did, if you hadn’t gone off to study in another country? If we hadn't… you know, gone our separate ways back then?"

The question, so similar to the one that started your recent emotional tailspin with her, catches you off guard. It’s a "what if" laden with years of distance and change, a path untaken, a story unwritten. You glance at her profile, the perfect line of her jaw, the slight furrow in her brow. She looks so much like the fierce, determined girl you knew, yet also like someone entirely new, someone shaped by experiences you can only guess at.

"I don't know," you say honestly, the words feeling inadequate but true. It’s your go-to answer for her profound, soul-searching question, apparently. "It’s… hard to predict those kinds of things, isn’t it? One tiny change back then could have led to a million different todays." You try for a philosophical shrug, as if you ponder alternate timelines on a regular basis. You mostly ponder what to have for dinner.

She nods slowly, still not meeting your eyes. "You’re right. It’s impossible to know." A beat of silence, then she adds, almost to herself, "Still. Sometimes I wonder."

Before you can overthink it, before your internal HR department can issue a cease-and-desist, you find yourself saying, "But, Jimin… whatever those other million todays might have looked like, this one? This is the one where we’re both here. You, me, in this crazy building, against some pretty insane odds when you think about it." You meet her gaze then, hoping she sees the sincerity in yours. "That’s got to be worth something, right?"

A slow smile spreads across her face, a genuine, heart-stoppingly beautiful smile that reaches her eyes and chases away some of the weariness you saw there earlier. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I think it is." She finally looks directly at you, and there's a warmth there, a shared acknowledgement of the strange, unlikely thread that still connects you.

"Thank you for saying that."

"Just stating the facts," you reply, though your heart is doing a fair impression of a hummingbird’s wings. You pause, then, emboldened by the moment, you ask, "Are you okay, though? You seem… a little tired." A masterful understatement, considering the grueling life she leads.

She lets out a soft sigh. "Yeah, I’m okay. Just… tired is my default setting these days, I think." She manages a wry smile. "This week has been particularly brutal. But it’s okay. It’s part of it."

"I’ve been seeing it up close, you know," you say, your tone earnest. "You, the girls… the amount of work you all put in, the sheer dedication… it’s actually insane. I had no idea, not really, before I started working here. It’s… genuinely incredible. You’re all amazing." You hesitate, then add, "Just… don’t overdo it, okay? Take care of yourself. Seriously."

Her smile widens, softens. The appreciation in her eyes is unmistakable, and it makes you feel ridiculously warm inside. "Thank you," she says again. "That means a lot. I will. I promise."

You reach the main exit, the cool night air of Seoul beckoning from beyond the glass doors. This feels like another one of those moments, a pause before the story shifts again.

"Well," you say, "my chariot awaits. Or, you know, the subway."

She laughs, a light, easy sound. "Same here. My manager’s probably already sent out a search party." She turns to you, and for a moment, it feels like there’s something more she wants to say, something hovering on the edge of her words. But then she just smiles that enigmatic smile again. "Good night. And… thanks. For the walk. And the concern."

"Anytime," you reply. "Goodnight, Jimin."

And with that, she’s gone, disappearing into the waiting black van that always seems to materialize out of nowhere. You watch her go, a strange mix of hope and confusion and that ever-present, damnably persistent affection swirling inside you.

—

The weekend arrives with all the fanfare of a damp squib. You spend Saturday mostly alternating between staring blankly at your laptop screen, pretending to job-hunt for something that isn’t your current, emotionally hazardous employment, and replaying every single micro-expression Jimin has made in your vicinity for the past two weeks. It’s a productive, well-adjusted way to live, you tell yourself with a hefty dose of irony. You’re bored, tired of your own internal monologue, and a little bit adrift.

You’re cleaning your room, contemplating mentally the profound existential question of whether to order jjajangmyeon or just eat cereal for dinner for the third night in a row, when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You almost ignore it, expecting another spam text about a crypto scam or a discount on air fryers. But then it buzzes again, insistent. With a groan, you reach for it.

It’s a message. From Jimin.

Hey! Are you by any chance, miraculously, incredibly, unbelievably… free tonight? My schedule just cleared up like magic (don’t ask, it’s a K-Pop miracle). That dinner we talked about… still interested? My legendary kimchi jjigae awaits its challenger! Let me know! Fingers crossed! ✨🍜🤞

You stare at the message, reading it once, twice, a third time just to make sure your sleep-deprived brain isn’t hallucinating. Her schedule cleared? She’s asking tonight? After all the cancellations, all the near-misses? A slow grin, a genuine, uncomplicated, shit-eating grin, spreads across your face. All the weariness, the boredom, the overthinking from the past few days, evaporates like morning mist.

You type back, your thumbs flying across the screen, a surge of adrenaline making your hands shake slightly.

Tonight? Miracles do happen! Yes, absolutely, 100% still interested. My taste buds are primed and ready for legendary status. Send me the address. I’ll even brave rush hour for this.

Her reply is almost instantaneous. A string of happy emojis, followed by her address and a time.

It’s set. It’s actually, finally, set.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest, loud and unrestrained in the quiet of your small apartment. Suddenly, your weekend isn’t looking so bleak. Suddenly, you’re not tired at all. Suddenly, the only thing that matters is that in a few short hours, you’re going to Jimin’s apartment for dinner. Just the two of you.

—

The hours leading up to your dinner with Jimin are a masterclass in controlled chaos, existing primarily within the confines of your own skull. You tell yourself, with the stern authority of someone trying to wrangle a particularly unruly toddler, not to overthink it. It’s just dinner. A casual meal between old friends. One of whom just happens to be a globally recognized K-Pop sensation who occupies a significant, and frankly unhealthy, amount of your daily thought processes.

Yes, perfectly normal.

Your attempt not to overthink manifests as a meticulous, hour-long deconstruction of your entire wardrobe, a frantic search for an outfit that screams "effortlessly cool and put-together" while simultaneously whispering "I definitely didn't try too hard, but please notice I tried a little." You settle on dark jeans that actually fit well and a soft, unassuming button-down shirt (casual, yet hinting at the possibility that you own an iron).

On your way to her neighborhood, a sudden pang of "don't show up empty-handed, you heathen" strikes you. You duck into a small, upscale market, ostensibly for a bottle of wine or some trendy artisanal sparkling water. As you’re Browse, your eyes snag on a particular brand of imported Swiss chocolate, a rich, dark hazelnut bar. It’s a lightning bolt from the past. Jimin used to be absolutely obsessed with this exact chocolate back in your school days. She’d save up her allowance for it, savoring each square like it was a precious jewel. It’s a ridiculous, sentimental impulse, but you grab it, along with a respectable bottle of white wine that looks like it knows what it’s doing. The chocolate feels like a small, secret handshake with the past, a nod to the girl she was… a girl you knew before the world did.

Her apartment building is sleek and modern, nestled in a quiet, affluent part of Seoul. You buzz her apartment number, your voice sounding surprisingly steady through the intercom when you announce your arrival. A moment later, the lock clicks, and you’re granted access to the inner sanctum. So far, so good. No alarms triggered.

Standing outside her actual apartment door, a fresh wave of nerves – oh, hello again, old friend – washes over you. You perform the sacred pre-door-knock ritual: a quick, surreptitious sniff of your own breath (minty, check), a frantic adjustment of your shirt cuffs, and a final, desperate smooth-down of your hair. You take a deep breath, then you knock.

The door swings open, and there she is. And just like that, your carefully constructed composure evaporates. Jimin. Even in simple, dark lounge pants and a ridiculously soft-looking, oversized grey sweater that swallows her frame, she looks… breathtaking. Her hair is tied up in a loose, messy bun, tendrils escaping to frame her face. Her makeup is so light it’s almost non-existent, just a hint of color on her lips and a subtle definition to her incredible eyes, making her appear more close to you, more vulnerable, more… Jimin. The effect is devastatingly beautiful, far more so than any stage costume or red-carpet glamour. This is her, unvarnished, in her own space.

You just sort of… stare for a beat, your brain temporarily short-circuiting. She offers a small, slightly shy smile. "Hey. You made it."

"Yeah," you manage. "Traffic was… surprisingly cooperative. For once." You then remember the social contract requires more than just grunting acknowledgment. "You, uh… you look amazing, Jimin. Really." There, you said it. Not as smooth as you’d hoped, but honest.

Her smile widens, a genuine, pleased crinkle around her eyes. "Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself." She steps back, holding the door open wider. "Come on in. Don’t mind the mess, I was literally in the middle of a creative explosion in the kitchen."

You step inside, and as you do, you present your offerings. "Brought some wine," you say, handing her the bottle. "And, uh, this." You pull out the chocolate bar. "Not sure if you still… but I remembered."

Her eyes widen when she sees the familiar wrapper, a gasp of pure, unadulterated delight escaping her. "Oh my god!" she exclaims, taking the chocolate from you with an almost reverent care. "This! I haven’t had this in ages! How did you even remember?" Her face is alight with genuine happiness. "This is… this is the best. Thank you." That she’s happier about the relatively cheap chocolate bar than the expensive wine says everything. It’s a direct hit to the heart, that shared memory made tangible.

"My memory retains crucial information," you say, trying for a light, teasing tone to cover the sudden thickness in your throat.

She laughs, clutching the chocolate bar like a long-lost treasure. "Apparently so." She gestures around. "Well, this is it. Karina's home. Or, you know, Jimin’s slightly-less-glamorous-than-you’d-expect-for-an-idol-but-still-pretty-nice apartment."

You take a proper look around as she leads you further in. It is beautiful. Definitely what you’d expect for someone of her status – spacious, with high ceilings, large windows offering a glittering panorama of the Seoul skyline. The furniture is modern and stylish, a palette of soft neutrals and rich textures. But threaded throughout the obvious expense are unmistakable touches of her. A shelf overflowing with books, a worn acoustic guitar propped in a corner, a collection of quirky art prints that are more charming than high-concept, a ridiculously fluffy throw blanket draped over a plush sofa that just begs for someone to curl up on it. It’s a home, not just a showpiece. It’s… Jimin. And you’re in it.

The aroma filling Jimin’s apartment is genuinely incredible, a rich, spicy, and deeply comforting scent that immediately makes your stomach rumble in anticipation. She’s bustling between the small, open-plan kitchen counter and the dining table as she places steaming bowls and an array of colourful banchan (pickled radish, seasoned spinach, glistening myeolchi bokkeum) onto the table. You try to offer help, a classic "can I do anything?" gesture, but she waves you off with a smile, directing you to simply take a seat.

"Guest of honor tonight," she declares, "your only job is to eat and, hopefully, not require medical attention afterwards." It's a joke, but there's a hint of nervous pride in her eyes as she surveys her culinary efforts. It's endearing, this glimpse of her outside the polished perfection of Karina, the idol. This is Jimin, hoping you like her cooking.

You settle into a chair at the intimate wooden table, which is perfectly sized for two and positioned to offer a breathtaking view of the city lights beginning to ignite the deepening twilight outside. She slides a bowl of rice in front of you, then the centerpiece: a bubbling, vibrant red earthenware pot of kimchi jjigae, the steam carrying its potent, delicious fragrance. She serves herself, then gestures for you to dig in. "Well," she says, a little breathlessly, "moment of truth."

You pick up your chopsticks, you take a careful spoonful of the jjigae, the rich broth warming your tongue, the tender pork and tangy kimchi a perfect balance. It’s not just edible; it’s genuinely, profoundly good. Your eyes widen in honest surprise.

"Jimin," you say, after a moment of appreciative silence, letting the warmth spread through you. "This is… seriously incredible. You weren't kidding about the legendary status. This is restaurant-quality stuff." You’re not just being polite; it’s the best kimchi jjigae you’ve had in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

A pleased, slightly flustered blush colors her cheeks. She ducks her head, stirring her own bowl a little too intently. "Oh, stop," she says, but her smile is radiant. "It’s just an old family recipe. My grandmother taught me. I don’t get to make it that often, so… I’m glad it turned out okay." She takes a tentative bite herself, then nods, a little surprised. "Huh. Not bad, if I do say so myself."

You both eat in a comfortable, almost reverent silence for a few minutes. You try some of the banchan she gestures towards, a crisp, spicy cucumber salad, some savory pan-fried tofu. Everything is meticulously prepared, bursting with flavor. It's clear she put a lot of effort into this, and that knowledge warms you even more than the jjigae.

It's as you’re both reaching for the water glasses at the same time, your fingers brushing for a fleeting, electric instant, that the full weight of the situation seems to properly land. You pull your hand back a little too quickly, a jolt going up your arm. You look up, and she’s looking at you, her eyes wide, a similar awareness dawning in them. Here you are. Alone. In her apartment, a space few outside her closest circle probably ever see. Sharing a home-cooked meal. It’s not uncomfortable, not exactly, but it’s undeniably there: a potent mix of history and the sheer, unadulterated weirdness of your lives having converged like this again.

A small, nervous chuckle escapes her lips, a delicate, airy sound. Almost instantly, a similar laugh bubbles up from your own chest; a little shaky, a little breathless, but a genuine release of the mounting tension. It’s a shared acknowledgment of the elephant.

"Okay," she says, setting down her chopsticks and picking up her water glass. "This is… this is a little bit weird, isn't it?" She takes a sip of water, her gaze still holding yours over the rim of the glass. "Not bad-weird," she clarifies quickly, perhaps sensing your own internal monologue already composing a list of polite escape routes, "definitely good-weird. But still… wonderfully, ridiculously weird."

"Good-weird is my favorite kind of weird," you manage. The shared laughter, the naming of the awkwardness, has somehow made it less… awkward. "And yes, 'wonderfully, ridiculously weird' pretty much sums up my entire existence since moving to Seoul and, you know," you gesture vaguely to encompass her, the apartment, the situation, "all of this." You take another mouthful of jjigae, savoring the spice, buying yourself a moment. "Honestly, if you’d told fourteen-year-old me, the one convinced that high fashion was wearing a band t-shirt without holes in it, that one day I'd be having homemade kimchi jjigae in global K-Pop superstar Karina's apartment…" You shake your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Well, let's just say his tiny, angst-ridden brain would have imploded. He probably would have assumed it was a very elaborate prank involving hidden cameras."

Jimin laughs, a bright, clear sound that seems to chase away some of the shadows in the room. "Oh, please. Fourteen-year-old you was far too cynical for hidden camera pranks. You’d have assumed it was a stress-induced hallucination brought on by too many all-night gaming sessions." She pauses, her smile softening into something more reflective as she looks around her living space, then back at you, her dinner guest, the boy from her past sitting so improbably in her present. "But look at us now, huh? Actually sitting here, eating dinner, in my own place. Talking about nothing relevant… and just being. Like two reasonably functioning adults who manage to feed themselves without burning the building down." She takes a slow, deliberate bite of rice, her gaze drifting towards the window, towards the vast, glittering expanse of Seoul spread out below them. "Who would have thought any of this was possible back then?" She turns back to you, a wistful, almost tender smile on her lips. "Time flies, doesn’t it? Feels like a lifetime ago, and yesterday, all at once.”

There's a shared melancholy in the air, a sweet ache for the irretrievable past, but it's also undercut by the sheer, vibrating improbability of your present. You nod slowly, swirling the last of the spicy jjigae broth in your bowl, the warmth of it seeping into you, mirroring the warmth spreading through your chest from just… being here, with her.

"It really does," you agree. "One minute you're plotting how to get out of gym class, the next you're… well, you're an international icon, and I'm marveling at your exceptional kimchi jjigae skills and wondering if adulting comes with a manual they forgot to give me." You offer a small, self-deprecating smile, which she returns with a knowing one of her own.

"Tell me about it," she sighs, pushing her empty bowl away slightly. "Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm still half expecting to see that gangly teenager with the terrible bangs staring back, wondering how on earth I’m supposed to lead a group and remember lyrics in different languages." She pauses, then a playful spark ignites in her eyes, chasing away the momentary wistfulness. "Speaking of adulting… that wine you brought isn't going to drink itself, is it?”

"An excellent point."

"Yeah," she says, already rising from the table. "Let me just wash these dishes and then we can relocate. My couch is significantly more comfortable for serious wine contemplation than these dining chairs. And you haven't even seen my prized collection of questionable drama movies yet, a true adult indulgence."

She begins clearing the table with an efficient grace, and you quickly stand to help, gathering bowls and chopsticks. "Questionable dramas, huh? I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Oh, you should be. We're talking peak early 2000s angst."

While she rinses the dishes (a task you offer to do but are again cheerfully waved off from) you retrieve the bottle of white wine from the counter where you’d left it. You find a corkscrew in a drawer after a brief, the satisfying pop of the cork feels like a small, official commencement of the evening’s next, less formal, chapter. Jimin reappears with two elegant, long-stemmed wine glasses.

Soon, you're both settled on her ridiculously plush sofa. It’s U-shaped, large enough that you’re not exactly pressed against each other, but close enough that you’re acutely aware of her presence, the subtle scent of her shampoo, the way the soft lamplight catches the curve of her cheek. She curls her legs up beneath her, looking impossibly small and cozy, and takes a grateful sip from her wine glass.

"Mmm," she hums, her eyes closing for a moment. "Okay, this is good. Way better than the soju bombs from our trainee day survival kits, that’s for sure."

You take a sip yourself. The wine is crisp and cool, a pleasant counterpoint to the lingering spice of the jjigae. "Glad it meets the approval of your sophisticated palate," you tease, settling back into the cushions. The sofa really is incredibly comfortable. Dangerously so. "Though I have a feeling even drain cleaner would taste good after some of the trainee stories I’ve heard."

She laughs, a full, unrestrained sound this time, and the warmth of it, combined with the wine already beginning to hum pleasantly in your veins, makes you feel… good. Really good. Relaxed in a way you haven’t been in weeks, maybe months.

"You have no idea," she says, shaking her head, a smile still playing on her lips. "There was this one time, during our first evaluation prep, we were all so stressed and sleep-deprived, Ningning tried to microwave a banana. The whole banana. Peel and all."

You snort with laughter, nearly choking on your wine. "No! What happened?"

"Let’s just say the dorm smelled like radioactive fruit for a week, and we were banned from unsupervised microwave usage," Jimin recounts, her eyes sparkling with shared amusement. "Our manager almost had a conniption. Good times. Peak adulting, right there."

The wine flows easily, and with it, the conversation. You find yourselves reminiscing more about those "good old days," the stories becoming funnier, sillier, with each glass. You remind her of the time she tried to dye her own hair blue using a questionable internet tutorial and ended up with three distinctly different shades of swamp green. She counters with the story of your spectacularly failed attempt to build a skateboard ramp in your backyard, which resulted in more bruises than airtime. The laughter comes more frequently now, less self-conscious, more open. There's a comfortable intimacy in revisiting these shared embarrassments.

With the second glass of wine, a subtle shift occurs. The silliness is still there, but it’s becoming tinged with a more playful, flirtatious edge. Maybe it’s the alcohol lowering inhibitions, or maybe it’s the cozy proximity on the sofa, or maybe it’s just the inevitable result of two people with a mountain of buried feelings finally being in a private, relaxed space together. You find yourself watching the way her lips curve when she smiles, the way she gestures animatedly when she’s telling a particularly outrageous story, the way her eyes seem to catch and hold yours for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"You know," she says, swirling the wine in her glass, her gaze a little unfocused, a little dreamy, "you were always surprisingly good at listening. Even when I was rambling about the most ridiculous, angsty teenage dramas. You’d just sit there and nod, like it was the most profound stuff you’d ever heard."

"Hey, your angst was top-tier," you reply. "It deserved a captive audience. Besides, someone had to make sure you didn't actually follow through on your threat to run away and join the circus after that disastrous school talent show audition." You lean a little closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. "Though, for the record, I still think your interpretive dance to that heavy metal song was… creatively ambitious."

She throws her head back and laughs, a genuine, unrestrained peal that makes your chest ache with a strange, sweet tenderness. When she sobers, she lightly punches your arm. "Oh, shut up! That was performance art! You just didn't understand my vision!" Her eyes are bright, cheeks flushed from the wine and the laughter, and she’s looking at you with an open, unguarded expression that makes your breath catch. "But seriously," she adds, "you were a good friend. Still are."

The compliment, simple as it is, lands with surprising weight. "You too, Jimin," you say, your voice equally soft, meeting her gaze. "Always."

Her eyes search yours, and you feel like she can see right through your carefully constructed facade, right down to the terrified, hopeful teenager still lurking somewhere inside. The wine has definitely done its job; the world feels a little softer around the edges, your inhibitions are pleasantly fuzzy, and the desire to just reach out, to bridge that small remaining distance on the couch, is becoming overwhelmingly, dangerously strong.

The wine, crisp and cool, continues its delightful work, unspooling the tightly wound threads of formality and apprehension that had clung to the early evening. Each sip seems to loosen your tongue a little more, and Jimin’s too. The comfortable U-shaped sofa, initially a vast expanse, feels like it’s subtly shrinking, or perhaps you’re both just… gravitating. Her laughter, when you recount another particularly embarrassing anecdote from your shared school days, is no longer just a polite chuckle. It’s a full-bodied, unrestrained peal of mirth that makes her lean back against the cushions, her eyes squeezed shut, one hand playfully batting at your arm.

You find yourself grinning like an idiot, the warmth spreading through your chest having very little to do with the alcohol content of the wine and everything to do with the sound of her unbridled joy.

"It’s funny, isn’t it? All those little things we obsessed over back then, thinking they were the most important things in the world." She swirls the wine in her glass, watching the pale liquid catch the light. "Who you sat with at lunch, whether you got picked for the team, if that one person looked at you in the hallway…"

Her voice trails off on that last phrase, and there’s a subtle shift in her tone, a new layer of something… emerging from beneath the playful banter. She takes a breath, then turns to you, her eyes, luminous in the dim light, searching yours. The playful glint is gone.

"Can I… can I tell you something? Something really stupid I used to think back then?"

Your heart gives a little thump. "Of course," you say. "My lips are sealed. And my capacity for judging stupid teenage thoughts is, believe me, at an all-time low, considering my own track record."

She offers a small, grateful smile, then her gaze drops to her wine glass, her fingers tracing the rim. "Okay, well… don’t laugh." A pause, then, so softly you almost miss it, "I… I used to have the biggest crush on you."

Your brain, already pleasantly fuzzy from the wine, seems to stall for a moment, trying to process. Jimin. Had a crush. On you. The fourteen-year-old version of you, the one with the questionable sense of humor and the complete inability to talk to girls he actually liked without sounding like a malfunctioning robot, would have spontaneously combusted from sheer disbelief and elation. Even now, the adult, slightly-more-composed version of you is struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

She peeks up at you through her lashes, a nervous blush creeping up her neck. "See? Stupid, right? I was so sure you just saw me as, like, your annoying little sister’s best friend, or just… Jimin, the dork who was always around. I used to spend hours overthinking every single thing you said to me, trying to decipher if there was some hidden meaning." She lets out a shaky little laugh. "God, it was exhausting."

You stare at her, a slow, incredulous smile starting to spread across your face. The irony, oh, the beautiful, painful irony of it all. All those years of your own silent, all-consuming crush, your own agonizing over every shared glance, every casual word, thinking she was completely oblivious, completely out of reach.

"Jimin," you begin. You clear your throat. "That’s… wow." You shake your head, a laugh bubbling up, a laugh of pure, unadulterated shock and a strange, retroactive relief. "The only thing 'stupid' about that is that I was doing the exact same goddamn thing."

Her head snaps up, her eyes widening, the blush on her cheeks deepening to a vibrant crimson.

"What?" she breathes. "You… you did? With… with me?"

"With you?" you echo, a wide, disbelieving grin plastered on your face. "Are you kidding? You were all I thought about. I was hopelessly, pathetically gone on you. I just… I figured you were way out of my league. That you only tolerated my presence because we were stuck in the same school and our families knew each other." The confession tumbles out, easy now, liberating, fueled by the wine and the sudden revelation of her own past feelings. It’s like a dam has broken, years of unspoken emotion finally finding their release.

She just stares at you, speechless for a long moment, her wine glass forgotten in her hand. Then, a tiny, incredulous laugh escapes her. "No. Way." She shakes her head slowly, as if trying to rearrange the entire narrative of her teenage years. "All that time? We were both…?"

"Apparently," you confirm, still grinning. "Two oblivious idiots, crushing on each other in silence. We could have written a really angsty, badly plotted teen drama."

She finally lets out a full laugh, leaning back against the sofa, looking utterly flabbergasted but also… lighter. "This is insane. I can’t believe it." Her eyes are shining, and not just from the wine anymore. "You know," she says, her voice regaining some of its earlier playful lilt, though it’s softer now, more intimate, "I used to get so jealous. Back then. If I saw you talking to… to other girls. Especially if they were, you know, prettier, or cooler." She makes a face, a little embarrassed. "It sounds so silly now, but it was true. I’d be all smiles on the outside, but inside, I’d be like, 'How dare she laugh at his stupid jokes? I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh at his stupid jokes!'"

You reach out, without really thinking, and gently touch her arm. "Hey. It wasn't silly. Or if it was, then I was just as silly."

Her gaze meets yours, and there's a warmth, a connection in that look that feels more real, more profound, than anything you've shared in years. She holds your gaze for a long moment, then a shadow crosses her face, her voice drops again, hesitant. "It’s funny… or, not funny, but… I kind of felt that way again. Recently." She looks down at her lap, tracing patterns on her pants with a fingertip. "When I saw you talking with Ning and the others that day in the lounge."

Your heart clenches. You remember that day, her sudden appearance, the tension.

"You all looked like you were having so much fun," she continues, "And they’re all so… bright, and funny, and talented. And for a second, this stupid thought just popped into my head, like… what if you ditch me for them? What if they’re more entertaining, or cooler to be around now? What if… what if I’m not that interesting anymore, compared to them?" She lets out a little, self-deprecating huff of air. "It sounds even dumber saying it out loud."

You gently cup her chin, tilting her face up so she has to look at you.

"Jimin," you say. "Listen to me. There is no one, no one, who could ever make me ditch you. And there is absolutely no one, not Ning, not Giselle, not Winter, not anyone on this entire planet, who is 'cooler' or 'more entertaining' or 'more interesting' than you are to me." You search her eyes, willing her to believe you. "And no one," you add, "no one makes me feel the way I feel when I’m with you. Not then. And definitely not now."

Her eyes search yours, wide and luminous, and you can see the emotions warring within them: surprise, disbelief, and then, slowly, a dawning, fragile hope. A single tear escapes and traces a path down her cheek, and you reach up, your thumb gently brushing it away, your touch lingering on her soft skin for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

"When… when we met again," she begins, so fragile you have to lean in slightly to catch it. "That day on the street? All those… those old feelings…" She swallows hard, her gaze dropping to her hands, now twisting in her lap. "They just… they came rushing back. All of them. And I thought… I really thought I was over it. Over you." She attempts a small, shaky laugh that doesn't quite land. "So stupid. I’m a grown woman, a K-Pop idol, for crying out loud. I shouldn’t be… I shouldn’t be feeling like a confused teenager all over again just because my childhood crush reappeared."

She tries to continue, her lips parting, but the words seem to catch in her throat. Her brow furrows in frustration, and she shakes her head, a gesture of helpless self-reproach. "I… I can’t even…" Another aborted attempt. She looks up at you, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, a look of utter bewilderment on her face. "I'm sorry," she blurts out. "I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. It must be the wine. It’s making me all… emotional and stupid." She gestures vaguely, a hand fluttering near her chest. "I’m probably ruining everything, aren't I? Just… ignore me. I’m being ridiculous." She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, as if trying to physically block out her own chaotic emotions.

And in that instant, watching her so raw, so vulnerable, so utterly terrified of her own feelings (feelings that mirror your own chaotic internal landscape so perfectly) something inside you just… snaps. All the overthinking, all the caution, all the years of unspoken longing, converge into a single, undeniable impulse. The wine, the dim lights, the confessions, her tear-streaked face so close to yours… it’s a perfect storm, and you’re right in the eye of it. To hell with professionalism, to hell with the risks, to hell with everything but the raw, undeniable truth thrumming between you.

Before you can second-guess it, before your internal HR department can scream bloody murder, you lean forward and kiss her.

It’s not a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s clumsy, desperate, fueled by years of pent-up emotion and too much wine. Your lips meet hers, and for a split second, she’s completely still, a statue beneath your sudden onslaught. Her eyes fly open, wide and startled, pupils blown huge in the dim light, reflecting a pure, unadulterated shock. You feel the soft, unexpected give of her lips, the faint taste of wine and something uniquely Jimin, a taste you realize, with a jolt, you’ve been subconsciously craving for more than half your life.

For a horrifying moment, you think you’ve made a monumental mistake. Idiot! You absolute, unmitigated idiot! your brain screams. You’ve broken her! You’ve ruined everything! The irony of her exact words now applying to your actions is not lost on you, even in your panic.

But then, just as you’re about to pull away, to stammer out a mortified apology, something shifts. Her eyelids flutter closed. A tiny, almost inaudible sigh escapes her, a breath she seems to have been holding for a lifetime. And then, slowly, tentatively, she gives in. Her lips soften against yours, responding with a hesitant pressure that builds, her body relaxing slightly against the sofa cushions. The kiss deepens, still a little clumsy, still a little desperate, but now with an undeniable mutuality, a shared exploration of a boundary crossed together.

When you finally, breathlessly, pull apart, the silence in the room is deafening. You stare at her, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. Her eyes are still closed for a moment, her lashes dark against her flushed cheeks. Then they slowly open, and she just… stares back at you, her expression unreadable, dazed, her lips slightly swollen and glistening. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You can only watch her, bracing for the fallout.

And then, her face crumples. Her lower lip trembles, and her carefully constructed composure shatters completely. A choked sob escapes her, and fat, silent tears begin to stream down her cheeks, unheeded. It’s not the reaction you were hoping for. It’s definitely not the reaction you were hoping for.

"Oh, god, Jimin, I…" Panic, cold and sharp, seizes you. You have ruined it. "I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just… I’m an idiot. Please, don’t cry. I’m so, so sorry." The words tumble out, a frantic, jumbled apology.

She shakes her head, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand, though more quickly follow. "No," she whispers. "No, it’s… it’s okay." And then, to your utter astonishment, she launches herself at you, her arms wrapping around your neck, burying her face in your shoulder, her body trembling with silent sobs. You instinctively wrap your arms around her, holding her close, your mind reeling.

"I… I liked it," she mumbles into your shirt, her voice muffled but audible. "I really did." She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes red-rimmed but shining with a confusing mix of emotions. "It’s just… it’s all… it’s a lot. Everything. All at once. Coming back. I feel… I feel kind of weird." She lets out another shaky laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Overwhelmed, I guess."

Fuck. She liked it. She actually liked it. You haven't irrevocably destroyed your friendship, your job, and your chances of ever experiencing joy again. Small victories. You gently shift on the plush sofa, pulling her more fully into your embrace until she’s settled somewhat in your lap, her side tucked against your chest. It feels incredibly intimate, yet also profoundly comforting. You rest your cheek against the top of her head, her hair soft against your skin, smelling faintly of her shampoo. After a few long minutes, her trembling stops. She lets out a deep, shuddering sigh and slowly lifts her head from your shoulder. Her eyes are still puffy, her cheeks tear-stained, but there’s a new calmness in her expression, a fragile sort of peace. She looks at you, her gaze soft and searching.

Then, a small, watery smile touches her lips. She reaches up, her hand, so small and delicate, coming to rest on your cheek. Her thumb gently strokes your skin.

"You know," she whispers. "for someone who claims to be an idiot…" Her smile widens, a genuine, almost dazzling Jimin-smile breaking through the tear-stained landscape of her face. "You’re not always wrong."

And then, before you can even process that, before you can form a coherent thought or even remember how to breathe properly, she leans in, her eyes fluttering closed, and kisses you.

This time, there’s no surprise, no hesitation. It’s a kiss that is both a question and an answer, a culmination and a beginning. It’s soft, tender, yet filled with an undercurrent of all those years of unspoken feelings, of rediscovered emotions, of the undeniable, terrifying, exhilarating truth that is thrumming between you. It’s a kiss that tastes of wine, and tears, and a hope so potent it makes your head spin.

When she pulls back, her eyes are galaxies, dark and swirling with emotion, a universe you’re only just beginning to navigate. A delighted, slightly breathless giggle escapes her, then you’re laughing too, a shared, giddy sound that bounces off the walls of her apartment.

"Wow," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "This… this really happened, didn't it?" Her eyes search yours, looking for confirmation in a world that suddenly feels wonderfully, terrifyingly new.

"It really, really did," you affirm. The air between you is no longer just charged; it’s practically incandescent, thrumming with a potent energy that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. The earlier nervousness hasn’t vanished, but it’s been transmuted into something else. She leans her forehead against yours for a moment, just breathing, then pulls back slightly, her eyes alight.

Her fingers, still feather-light against your skin, drift down from your jaw to the collar of your shirt. She toys with the fabric, a slow, deliberate movement, her gaze fixed on yours. The city lights outside paint her in hues of gold and shadow, making her look even more ethereal, more achingly beautiful.

"You know," she says, "you haven't, uh… you haven't seen my room yet." Her eyes flick towards a hallway leading off the main living area, then back to yours.

Your own breath hitches. You try to swallow, your throat suddenly dry. "No, I haven't," you manage. You search her eyes, needing to be absolutely sure. "Would you… would you like to show me?"

A slow, devastatingly beautiful smile spreads across her face. It’s a smile of pure, unadulterated desire, mixed with a touch of that endearing shyness that still clings to her, even now. "Yes," she breathes. "Yes, I really would."

That’s all the confirmation you need. In one fluid movement you lean forward, sliding one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back. You lift her effortlessly from the sofa, her gasp of surprise quickly turning into a delighted laugh as she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, her legs around your waist. She feels impossibly light, yet incredibly solid in your arms, a perfect, intoxicating weight. And then you’re kissing her again, deeply, hungrily, the earlier tenderness now ignited with a fiercer, more demanding passion.

"Which way?" you murmur against her mouth, your lips still brushing hers.

"That way," she whispers, gesturing with a slight tilt of her head down the hallway, never breaking the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer.

You carry her through the apartment, your steps sure and steady despite the roaring in your ears and the way your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest. Each step feels monumental, a journey into uncharted territory. She guides you with soft murmurs and the pressure of her body against yours, her kisses becoming more urgent, more demanding, her breath coming in soft, quick gasps against your skin.

Her bedroom is at the end of the hall. She reaches out a hand, fumbling for the doorknob, then pushes it open. You step inside, and the world seems to tilt again. The room is bathed in a soft, ambient glow from the city outside, filtered through sheer curtains, creating an atmosphere that is both intimate and dreamlike. It’s perfect.

You carry her over to the bed, your lips still locked with hers, a desperate, continuous kiss that speaks of years of unspoken longing. Gently, reverently, you lower her onto the soft duvet, following her down, bracing yourself on your hands on either side of her head. You break the kiss, just for a moment, to gaze down at her. Her eyes are dark and dilated, her lips swollen and flushed from your kisses, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

"God, Jimin," you breathe. You lower your head, burying your face in the soft skin of her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling the frantic pulse throbbing beneath your lips. "You are so unbelievably beautiful." You kiss the delicate curve where her neck meets her shoulder, then trail a line of slow, deliberate kisses up towards her ear. "The most beautiful girl in the world," you whisper, your lips brushing her earlobe. "You always have been. Always."

A soft, shuddering moan escapes her as you continue your exploration, your lips and tongue tracing patterns on her sensitive skin, tasting the salt and sweetness of her. Her breathing becomes more irregular, deeper, her fingers tightening in your hair, her hips starting to shift restlessly beneath you. You feel her arch into your touch, a silent plea for more.

Your hands, which have been resting on the bed beside her, begin their own exploration. They find the hem of her soft, oversized sweater, your fingers brushing against the warm, pale skin of her stomach beneath it. Her skin is like silk, radiating a heat that sets your own nerves on fire. You tug at the sweater gently, slowly, agonizingly, your eyes locked on hers, watching her reaction. Her eyelids are heavy, her lips parted, a look of pure, unadulterated anticipation on her face. With a final, deliberate pull, you slide the sweater up and over her head, tossing it carelessly aside.

And there they are.

Her breasts, even constrained by the delicate lace of her bra, are undeniably magnificent. Full, heavy, spilling slightly from the cups, their pale, creamy expanse a stark, breathtaking contrast to the dark fabric. You can see the gentle slope, the promise of their weight. Your own breath hitches in your throat. This is the reality of Karina, of Jimin, laid bare before you, a sight you’ve only dared to dream of in your most secret, most forbidden fantasies.

You take off your shoes, kicking them aside, never taking your eyes off her. As you reach for the hem of your own shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons in your haste, you see her hands move to her back. With a deft, practiced movement, she unhooks her bra. She holds it in place for a moment longer, her gaze locking with yours, a shy, almost vulnerable smile playing on her lips.

"I… I hope you like them," she whispers.

Then, with a deep breath, she lets the bra fall away.

Your world stops. Absolutely, irrevocably stops. Her breasts are… perfect. More than perfect. They are everything you've ever imagined, and so much more. They are large, gloriously full, spilling into her hands as she cups them for a moment, as if presenting a sacred offering. The skin is so pale it seems almost luminous in the dim light, smooth and flawless, save for the faint blue veins tracing delicate patterns just beneath the surface, hinting at the life and warmth within. Her areolas are a dusky rose, wide and perfectly formed, and at their centers, her nipples, a deeper, more insistent pink, are already hard and erect, puckered tight, practically begging for your touch, for your mouth. They look so incredibly soft, so utterly… juicy, for lack of a better, more reverent word.

You’re mesmerized, completely transfixed, your throat dry, your mind blissfully, wonderfully blank save for the overwhelming, primal need to touch, to taste, to worship. After what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few seconds, you slowly reach out a trembling hand. Your fingers make contact with the warm, yielding softness of her right breast. She gasps softly as you cup its weight, your thumb brushing over the taut, sensitive peak of her nipple. So warm. So unbelievably soft. You gently squeeze, a possessive, reverent pressure, and a low moan rumbles in her chest, vibrating against your palm.

She lies back fully on the bed then, her arms stretching above her head, her body an open, trusting invitation. You quickly shed your shirt, your movements urgent, driven by a desire that is rapidly consuming every last shred of your self-control. You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself above her, your knees on either side of her hips, your gaze still fixed on the breathtaking sight of her bare, beautiful breasts.

And then, you lower your head and take one of those perfect, pink nipples into your mouth.

She cries out, a sharp, breathless sound that is pure, unadulterated pleasure, her back arching off the bed, her fingers digging into your shoulders. Her breast fills your mouth, the taste of her skin, salty and sweet, intoxicating. You suck gently at first, then more strongly, your tongue laving, teasing, drawing the hardened peak deeper. She is melting beneath you, writhing, her hips starting to buck a little, a silent plea for more.

"Oh, god," she gasps. "Yes… fuck, yes… right there… they’re so… so sensitive…" Her words are broken, punctuated by moans and sharp intakes of breath. "Please… don’t stop… keep going… it’s… it’s making me so fucking horny…"

You shift your attention to her other breast, giving it the same devoted worship, laving, sucking, gently nipping, while your hand continues to squeeze and caress the one you just abandoned, ensuring both are bathed in sensation. You can feel the frantic thrumming of her heart against your chest, the heat radiating from her skin, the way her entire body is trembling, on the verge of completely unraveling. You lift your head for a moment, just to look at her, at the sight of her, utterly consumed by lust, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted, her beautiful breasts flushed and glistening from your attention. This is Jimin. This is Karina. And she is yours, in this moment, completely and utterly yours to worship, to pleasure, to drive absolutely insane.

You continue your worship of her breasts, alternating between them, lavishing each with an equal, fervent devotion. One hand cradles the breast you’re not currently feasting on, your thumb flicking, teasing the already hard nipple, while your mouth works its magic on its twin. You suck strongly, drawing the peak deep, feeling the responsive tug in her body, the way her hips tilt upwards, seeking a friction that isn’t there yet.

"Fuck, yes," she pants, her fingers still tangled in your hair, now gripping, almost painfully tight, but you welcome the anchor in the storm of sensation you’re both caught in. "They’re so… oh god… so good… your mouth…"

You lift your head for a moment, your lips slick, your gaze devouring the sight of her: her chest flushed a deep rose, her nipples impossibly tight, glistening with your saliva, already looking delightfully, beautifully ravaged.

"Yours are the best, Jimin," you growl. "Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. I could suck on these gorgeous tits all night."

A choked laugh, half sob, half pure ecstasy, bubbles from her throat. "Please do… God, yes… you suck so fucking well…"

You dive back in, attacking her nipples with renewed ferocity, sucking, licking, nipping gently with your teeth, drawing out her moans. You leave your marks, faint red circles blooming on her pale skin where your lips have been. Her breasts are indeed glistening, slick with your drool and her own faint sheen of sweat. She’s thrashing beneath you now, no longer trying to control her reactions, her head tossing from side to side on the pillows, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Each pull of your mouth seems to send shivers racking through her entire frame.

Slowly, reluctantly, you drag your mouth away from her sensitive breasts, leaving them flushed, swollen, and thoroughly worshipped. Her soft whimper of protest is cut short as you begin to trail a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the center of her torso, over the subtle curve of her ribcage, across the quivering expanse of her flat, pale stomach. Each kiss is deliberate, lingering, your tongue flicking out to taste her skin. You feel the muscles in her abdomen clench and flutter beneath your lips.

"Don’t stop," she whispers, her hands now gripping the bedsheets on either side of her. "Please… whatever you’re doing… just… more."

You continue your downward pilgrimage, your lips brushing against the waistband of her lounge pants. They’re soft, loose-fitting, and offer little resistance as your fingers find the drawstring. With a deft tug, you loosen it, then slowly, agonizingly slowly, begin to slide the fabric down her hips, revealing the delicate curve of her hipbone, the smooth, pale skin of her thighs. Your hands skim down her legs, pushing the pants further, until they’re pooled around her ankles. You kick them impatiently off the end of the bed, your gaze fixed on the prize they were concealing.

Her panties. A tiny scrap of pale pink lace, stretched taut across the apex of her thighs, already dark with her wetness. Her thighs, usually so strong and toned from years of dancing, are trembling uncontrollably now, a fine sheen of moisture glistening on their pale inner surfaces. The musky scent of her arousal is stronger here. You can practically feel the heat radiating from between her legs.

"Look at you," you murmur as you trail your fingers along the damp lace, feeling the heat and moisture seeping through. "So wet for me already, aren’t you, babe? Fucking dripping."

A broken sob escapes her. "Yes… oh god, yes… please… I need…" She can’t even finish the sentence, her body arching, her hips instinctively grinding against the mattress.

You pull the panties down, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, revealing her to your hungry gaze.

And she is, as you knew she would be, perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. Her shaved pussy is nestled between her thighs, a delicate, swollen mound. The outer lips are plump, flushed a deep, inviting pink, already glistening with her slick, arousal-heavy dew. They part slightly as you watch, revealing the even pinker, more tender flesh within, and the glint of her clit, a tiny, perfect pearl peeking out, already engorged and throbbing. This is the core of her, the secret, hidden place you’ve only ever dreamed of, now laid bare for your worship.

You shift your position, moving from beside her to kneel between her parted thighs. They tremble slightly as you settle there, and she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes, dark and wide, fixed on yours. There’s a beautiful, terrifying vulnerability in her gaze, a silent plea that makes your cock ache with an almost painful intensity. But you’re not going to rush this. Oh no. This moment, this offering, is too precious, too long-awaited. She needs to feel every second of this descent into pleasure, every nuance of her own burgeoning, desperate need. You’re going to make her burn for it. You’re going to make her beg.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Jimin," you murmur. Your gaze drops from her eyes to the glistening treasure nestled between her thighs, then deliberately, slowly, travels to the pale, trembling skin of her inner thigh. "So incredibly, exquisitely responsive."

Instead of diving straight for her pussy, as every instinct screams at you to do, you lean down and press a soft, lingering kiss to the delicate skin high on her inner left thigh, just inches from that wet, waiting heat. She gasps, her whole body jerking, her thighs instinctively trying to clench together, but you gently hold them apart, your hands firm but gentle on her hips.

"Easy now," you whisper against her skin, your breath hot. "Don't want to miss any of this, do we?"

You trail another kiss, then another, working your way in a slow, agonizing circle around that central, beckoning core, never quite touching it, but always promising it. Your tongue darts out, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin, the faintest hint of her arousal that has already slicked even this far out. With each kiss, each lick against her thigh, you feel her tremors intensify. Her fingers are fisted in the bedsheets, her knuckles white.

"What… what are you doing?" she pants. "Please… you’re… you’re driving me crazy."

"Am I, babe?" you purr, your lips brushing the impossibly soft skin just beside one of her swollen, pink outer lips. You can smell her now, that rich, musky, uniquely feminine scent of pure, unadulterated horniness, and it’s making you lightheaded, drunk on her desire. "Driving you crazy how? Tell me." You dip your tongue out again, this time lapping up a stray droplet of her slick wetness that has trickled onto her thigh. Her taste… fuck, it’s even better than you imagined. Sweet, tangy, utterly addictive. You groan softly into her skin. "Oh, you taste so fucking good right here… just a hint of what’s waiting for me."

"Please…" she begs. "Don’t… don’t tease me like this. I can’t… I can’t take it." Her hips are starting to move now, a small, involuntary rocking motion, trying to seek out the pressure of your mouth.

"Can't take what, Jimin?" you ask. You drag your open mouth slowly up her inner thigh, leaving a wet trail, then switch to the other, lavishing it with the same agonizingly slow attention. You can feel the heat pouring off her in waves. "You need to tell me what you want. Use your words, baby. You want me to stop?" You deliberately pull back a fraction of an inch, letting the cool air hit her heated skin, and she whimpers, a raw, frustrated sound.

"No! No, don’t stop, please, whatever you do, don’t stop," she cries. "I want… I want your mouth. There. Please. I need it. I’m so wet for you, can’t you feel it? Can’t you taste it?" Her words are a torrent now, the carefully constructed composure of Karina completely shattered, leaving only the raw, needy core of Jimin. "I’m aching… I’m fucking aching for your tongue, please… just… just eat me out. Suck my clit. Please, I’m begging you."

Her plea is music to your ears. She’s so close, so desperate. But you’re not quite done with her yet. You want her utterly, completely undone.

"Beg me how, sweet girl?" you murmur, your lips now hovering directly over her glistening, swollen clit, your hot breath fanning the sensitive nub. She gasps, her whole body seizing. "Tell me how badly you need it. Tell me what a good girl you’ll be if I finally give you what you’re craving. Convince me." The strategic irony here is that you're already convinced, already harder than you've ever been in your life, but the game, the sight of her unraveling at your command, It's the best feeling in the world.

"I’ll be so good," she sobs, her thighs trembling violently now, threatening to clamp shut around your head. "So fucking good for you. I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just please… please put your mouth on me. I’m dying here. I need to feel your tongue… I need you to make me cum… I’m so close… Please, babe, suck me… suck me like you mean it…"

Her words, that broken, desperate plea to be eaten out, are the only permission you need. You lower your head, your hair brushing against the pale skin of her inner thighs, and finally, finally, you give in. You press your mouth fully against her, parting her slick, swollen lips with your own, and your tongue finds her clit. A sound is torn from her throat, a high, sharp keen that’s half shock and half pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her entire body jolts as if struck by lightning, her hips slamming upwards into your face in a single, convulsive movement. The taste of her floods your senses, and it's everything. It’s not just the sweet, tangy flavor of her arousal you'd already sampled from her thighs; it's deeper, muskier, the very essence of her, and it's intoxicating.

You're instantly, hopelessly addicted. You begin slowly, a reverent worship. Your tongue is soft, exploratory, lapping at her gently, learning the landscape of her. You trace the delicate shape of her outer lips, then dip inside to swirl around the plump, sensitive inner folds before focusing on that hardened pearl of her clit.

"Oh, god..." she breathes, her hands flying up to tangle in your hair, not pulling, just holding on as if she might float away. "Yes... that's..."

You hum against her, a low, deep vibration that you feel travel through her entire body. She lets out another soft cry. Her muscles are still coiled with tension, but it's the tension of overwhelming sensation, not desperation. She is melting, and you are the cause.

"Just relax for me, baby," you murmur against her slick flesh. "Just let me taste you. You're so perfect."

You settle in, continuing the slow, deliberate worship. For long minutes, this is all that exists: the sound of your mouth against her, her soft, breathy moans, and the rich, intoxicating taste of her on your tongue. Her hips are no longer bucking but have settled into a slow, swaying rhythm, rocking against your mouth in time with the gentle lapping of your tongue. She has given you control, and you intend to savor it. You can feel the change when her body becomes fully accustomed to the pleasure, when the slow worship is no longer enough. Her gentle sways become more insistent, her breath hitches with a new need, and her fingers tighten in your hair, this time with a subtle, pleading tug. She wants more. And you are going to make her beg for it.

You shift your technique, beginning the torture. You pull your mouth away from her clit, trailing your tongue down along the slick valley between her labia. She whimpers in protest, her hips pushing up, seeking the focused pressure you just denied her.

"Shhh," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to one of her swollen inner lips. "So much to taste here. Can't rush."

You proceed to lavish attention on every other part of her, everywhere but the one place she is dying for you to be. You lick the plump flesh of her lips, suck gently on the inner folds, your tongue darting out to trace the rim of her opening, dipping just the very tip inside before pulling away. With every near-miss, a frustrated cry is torn from her throat.

"Please..." she pants, her hips rocking more frantically now. "Please... you're... you're driving me crazy. My clit... I need you there."

"Here?" you ask. You flick your tongue directly over the sensitive nub one time, fast and hard. She yelps, her whole body convulsing. Then you pull away again, moving to trace lazy circles on the sensitive skin around her. "You liked that, didn't you? Tell me how much you liked it."

"Yes! Fuck, yes, I loved it," she sobs. "Please, do it again. Don't tease me... I can't take it. Just... just suck it, please."

"Beg me," you command softly, your hot breath ghosting over her clit, making her shiver. "Tell me exactly what you want my mouth to do to you. I want to hear how desperate you are for it."

She’s a mess, completely undone by your teasing. "I'm so desperate for you," she cries, her words tumbling over each other. "I need your tongue on my clit. I need you to suck on it, hard. Lick me until I can't think. Please, I'm begging you. I'll do anything. Just go back there. I feel like I'm going to die if you don't."

Her plea is everything you wanted. You slide your mouth back over her, but instead of the hard pressure she's begging for, you give her the opposite. You open your mouth wide, your tongue flat, and you just... lick. Long, slow, deliberate strokes from the base of her mound, up over her clit, all the way to her perineum, and back down again. It’s a broad, wet, agonizingly gentle sensation.

"No..." she groans, a sound of pure frustration. "Harder... please, you have to do it harder."

"I don't have to do anything, baby," you murmur, continuing the slow, torturous laps. "I'm in control here. You'll take it how I give it to you. And right now, I want to feel you squirm."

She thrashes beneath you, so close to the edge but held back by your deliberate restraint. Her nails are digging into your scalp now, not painfully, but with a frantic urgency. It’s time to escalate. It's time to break her completely. While continuing the slow, steady rhythm of your tongue, you slide one hand down between her thighs. Her skin is flushed and hot to the touch. Your fingers find her entrance, already slick and gaping, practically weeping with need. You slide one finger inside her.

She screams, a raw, ragged sound, as the new sensation of being filled sends a fresh shockwave through her system. She’s so tight, so hot, clenching around your finger instantly. You push your finger deeper, feeling the texture of her inner walls, the way she convulses around you.

"That's it, Jimin," you praise, your voice muffled against her. "Take my finger. Feel how wet you are? Fucking dripping for me."

Now you change the rhythm of your tongue, finally giving her the focused attention she craved. You suck her clit into your mouth, your tongue working fast and hard, while your finger inside her establishes a steady in-and-out rhythm. The dual sensations are too much. She is completely lost.

"Fuck! Yes, both..." she gasps. "It's… it's too much… I'm going to…"

You add a second finger, stretching her, filling her more completely. She cries out again, her back arching so high off the bed it's a perfect, strained bow. Her pussy milks your fingers, slick and greedy. You can feel the muscles deep inside her starting to flutter, the tell-tale sign that her orgasm is gathering strength.

"You feel that, baby?" you ask, curling your fingers inside her, rubbing them against the nub of her g-spot. "My tongue on your clit, my fingers deep in your cunt. Does that feel good?"

"So good!" she screams. "It feels so fucking good! I'm so close, don't stop, please, please don't stop!"

You are her entire world now. She is aware of nothing but your mouth and your fingers, driving her towards the abyss. You increase the pace of everything. Your tongue is a frantic engine on her clit, sucking, flicking, laving. Your fingers pump in and out of her relentlessly. You can feel the final tension coiling in her body, a string stretched to its breaking point. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and her moans have become a single, continuous, high-pitched keen.

"I'm going to make you come so hard, Jimin," you growl into her. "You're going to scream my name. Get ready."

You feel it start, the first deep, internal clench around your fingers. Her entire body goes rigid.

"I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming! I'm cummmmming!"

Her scream is primal as her orgasm rips through her, a violent, world-shattering release. Her body convulses, her hips slamming up against your mouth in a desperate, uncontrollable rhythm. Her juices gush out of her, hot and thick, flooding your mouth with the sweet, musky taste of her release. You swallow greedily, catching every single drop as her body is wracked by wave after wave of intense pleasure. You don't stop your ministrations, gentling your touch now, your tongue soothing her hypersensitive clit, your fingers massaging her inner walls as the aftershocks ripple through her.

Slowly, her body goes limp, collapsing back onto the mattress. She’s trembling from head to toe, her chest rising and falling in deep, ragged pants. Her eyes are squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners, her face flushed a deep crimson. You finally lift your head, your chin and lips slick with her, and look at the masterpiece of your work.

You lean down, capturing her mouth in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s a stark contrast to the hungry, desperate kisses you shared before. This one is tender. She moans softly into your mouth, and you taste it: the lingering, musky sweetness of her own climax. She tastes it too, a jolt going through her body as she recognizes herself on your tongue. A faint blush rises on her already flushed cheeks, a mix of shy embarrassment and burgeoning arousal.

You pull back just enough to gaze down at her. Her hair is a wild halo around her head, her lips are swollen, her eyes are still dazed and beautifully unfocused. She is the most magnificent thing you have ever seen.

"You look so beautiful like this," you say. "Completely undone for me."

"You're an asshole," she whispers, but there’s no heat in it, only a deep, lingering pleasure. "Don't you ever tease me like that again." As she says it, she shifts, leaning up just enough to press her teeth against the side of your neck in a playful, possessive bite. It’s not hard, just a firm pressure.

You chuckle, then pepper her cheeks with soft kisses. "I'm sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I couldn't help it." You lean in close, your lips brushing her ear. "Hearing you beg for me, Jimin… hearing you lose control and tell me how much you needed it… it makes me fucking crazy. It’s addictive. I don't think I'll ever get enough of it."

Her breath hitches. Your words, your confession that her submission drives you wild, are exactly what she needs to hear. As you pull back, her eyes, now clear and focused, glitter with a new, dangerous kind of light. Her hand slides from your cheek, down your chest, over your stomach, coming to rest directly on the hard ridge of your cock through the denim of your jeans. Her fingers close around you, a firm, knowing grip that makes you hiss through your teeth. She squeezes, feeling the full, thick length of your cock straining against the fabric.

A slow, devastatingly confident smile spreads across her face. "Addictive, huh?" she purrs, her voice regaining its strength. "I can beg for a lot more than that." Her gaze drops from your eyes to your crotch, then back up, her expression pure, unadulterated hunger. "And right now," she says, her grip tightening, "I really, really want your cock."

Her words are a command and a plea all in one. Without another word, you pull away from her, getting off the bed. Her eyes are wide, tracking your every move as you reach for the button on your jeans. You undo it, the sound loud in the quiet room, then slowly pull down the zipper. You never break eye contact. You hook your thumbs into the waistband and push the jeans down over your hips, kicking them off impatiently.

Now you stand before her in just your dark boxer briefs. The fabric does little to hide the truth, straining to contain the thick, heavy bulge of your erection. You see her eyes fixate on it, her lips parting slightly. A sharp intake of breath is the only sound she makes. She is, as you suspected, absolutely captivated.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear. "You wanted this, remember?" you ask. You drag the fabric down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until your cock springs free, heavy and thick in the dim light.

Jimin lets out a long, shuddering sigh. It’s a sound of pure awe. Your cock is fully hard, glistening with a bead of clear, slick precum. It’s big, bigger than she probably imagined, and her eyes trace its length, from the heavy weight of your balls to the thick shaft and the promising, wet tip.

You don't give her too long to just look. You move back to the bed, climbing on and positioning yourself between her parted legs. They tremble slightly as you settle in, her thighs falling open to grant you full access. She's still so beautifully wrecked, so open and waiting for you. You take your cock in your hand, stroking it slowly, the pre-cum making your skin slick. You want her to watch. You want her to see exactly what is about to fill that empty, aching space inside her.

"Wait," you say. The thought hits you, a brief flash of real-world responsibility in this haze of lust. "Condoms. We should..."

"No," she says immediately, her voice firm, cutting you off. She shakes her head, her eyes blazing with a fierce, undeniable need. "No. I don't care about that right now. I need to feel you. All of you. I just want to feel your dick inside me. Now."

You hesitate, searching her face. "Jimin, are you sure?"

"Yes," she moans. Her hips arch off the bed, a desperate, silent invitation. "Please. I'm on birth control. Just… please, I need it. Don't make me wait anymore."

That's all you need. Her certainty, her raw need, erases any doubt. But you’re not going to let her off that easy. The teasing isn't over yet. You lean forward, bracing your hands on either side of her head, and lower your body until the tip of your cock is pressed against her. She gasps as the heat of you makes contact with her slick, swollen folds. She is unbelievably wet, her juices from her earlier orgasm making a perfect lubricant.

"So wet for me," you murmur, grinding the head of your cock against her clit. "You want this cock so badly, don't you?"

"Yes! Please, just put it in," she begs, her hands fisted in the bedsheets.

You ignore her plea, continuing the agonizing tease. You slide the head of your cock up and down her slit, gliding through her slickness, letting her feel your thickness, your hardness, but denying her the entry she craves. With every pass, she whimpers, her body straining, trying to force you inside her.

"Look at you," you whisper. "Trying to impale yourself on my cock. You can't wait, can you?"

"I can't," she sobs. "It feels so good… just the tip… please, I need to feel all of it. I need you to stretch me. Fill me up."

"Then you know what you have to do," you say, pausing your movements, holding the head of your cock right at her entrance, a promise and a threat. "Beg for it. Beg me to fuck your tight, wet pussy. Tell me how much you need this cock inside you."

"Please," she cries. "Please fuck me. I'm begging you. I need your cock. I need it inside my pussy right now. Please, I'll be so good for you, just fuck me!"

Her desperate, broken plea is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "Good girl," you praise.

And then you give her what she's begged for. You shift your hips, aiming the thick head of your cock at her entrance.

You push.

The feeling is indescribable. You stop, buried deep inside her, and the world just… ceases to exist. There is only this. The sensation is overwhelming, a sensory overload that shorts out every coherent thought in your brain. Her pussy is a revelation. It’s impossibly tight, a velvet clench around your entire length, gripping you with an intimate pressure that’s both demanding and welcoming. It’s slick, her juices coating your cock in a hot, wet sheen that makes every tiny shift an act of pure friction and pleasure. And it’s so, so hot, a deep, internal heat that feels like it’s seeping right into your bones.

Jimin lets out a choked, shuddering gasp, her eyes squeezed shut as her body tries to process the feeling of being so completely and utterly filled like this. Her inner walls pulse and clench around you, an involuntary, welcoming spasm that nearly makes you come right then and there. You have to clench every muscle in your body to hold back.

"Fuck, Jimin..." you groan. "You feel... I don't even have words. You feel so fucking perfect."

"You're so big," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her hands come up to rest on your chest, her fingers pressing into your skin. "You... you fill me up completely. I can feel you all the way inside me."

"I want to feel every inch of you," you say. You begin to move, but not in the hard, fast way you're both craving. Not yet. You pull back, agonizingly slowly, until just the thick head of your cock is inside her. She whimpers, a raw sound of protest at the loss, her hips lifting instinctively to follow you. Then, just as slowly, you push back in, letting her feel the full length of you sliding home once more.

"Oh, god," she moans, her head tossing on the pillows. "That... that feels..."

"I know," you say, continuing the slow, torturous rhythm. In and out. A deep, deliberate friction that is designed to let both of you savor every millimeter of contact. "I want you to feel all of it. Every time I slide into your tight, wet pussy. I want you to remember this feeling forever."

You do this for what feels like an eternity, just fucking her slowly, deeply, letting the tension build to a fever pitch. Her initial awe begins to melt away, replaced by a raw, hungry lust. Her hips are no longer just receiving you; she’s starting to push back, meeting your slow thrusts with an eagerness that makes your blood run hot. She’s ready.

"Okay, baby," you rasp, grabbing her hips firmly, your thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her hipbones. "You wanted this. Now you're going to get it."

You change the rhythm. Your thrusts become hard, deep, and punishing. You slam into her, your cock slapping against her wet folds, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the quiet room. You fuck her with a desperate, pent-up energy, each thrust driving you deeper, stretching her, filling her completely.

And she loves it. She cries out with every powerful slam of your hips, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you even deeper. Her head is thrown back, her neck arched, a long, continuous moan spilling from her parted lips. This is what you’ve both been waiting for.

You watch her as you fuck her, your gaze devouring the sight of her. And her breasts… fuck, her breasts are perfect. With every hard thrust, they bounce, a heavy, hypnotic jiggle that mesmerizes you. They are large and full, their weight made obvious by the way they sway and tremble with the force of your fucking. Her nipples, still hard and puckered from your earlier attention, are a deep, flushed pink, pointing right at you as if in offering.

"Look at them," you pant, your voice strained with effort and lust. "Look at your perfect tits bouncing for me. Every time I fuck you."

She glances down, a dazed, lust-filled smile spreading across her face as she watches the motion. "Fuck..." she breathes. "They're… they're so heavy…"

"I love how they move," you say, never breaking your rhythm. "I want to see them bounce harder."

You increase your pace, pounding into her with a relentless, frantic energy. You’re lost in it now, lost in the feeling of her tight, wet heat, the sight of her beautiful body taking you, the sound of her cries filling the air.

"More!" she screams. "Please, don't stop! Fuck me harder! I need it harder!"

"Like this, baby?" you growl, slamming into her with as much force as you can muster. "You want your pussy fucked like this?"

"Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cries, her nails digging into your back, leaving fiery trails on your skin. "Your cock… it feels so fucking good inside me! It's hitting everything! Please… don't ever stop!"

You are both drenched in sweat, your bodies slick, moving together as one. You lean down, fucking her senseless, and she is taking every inch, begging for more. You press her deeper into the soft mattress, your combined weight creating a perfect hollow of heat and friction. You are buried inside her, a seamless join of wet, hot flesh, and yet you crave more. You need to consume her, to taste her, to feel her surrender in every way possible. You capture her lips, crashing your mouth against hers again. It’s not a tender kiss; it’s a rough, hungry claiming. It’s the kiss of two people who have starved for years and just found a feast.

She kisses you back with an equal, startling fervor. This isn’t a passive acceptance; it’s a demand. Her tongue pushes against yours, her hands leaving your back to tangle in your hair, pulling your mouth harder against hers. You are both lost in it, fucking and kissing, a closed circuit of overwhelming sensation. The deep, rhythmic plunge of your cock into her pussy is punctuated by the wet slap of your mouths, the soft, desperate moans she makes when you deepen the kiss, the guttural groans you can’t hold back when she sucks your tongue into her mouth. It’s filthy, it’s perfect, and it’s driving you both insane.

But it’s still not enough. You break the kiss, leaving her panting and breathless, her lips swollen and glistening. You look down at her, at the magnificent sight of her breasts, flushed and trembling with each powerful thrust of your hips. You need to taste them again. While maintaining the relentless, pounding rhythm of your fucking, you lower your head. Her skin is slick with a fine sheen of sweat, and it tastes salty and sweet as you lick a path from her collarbone down to the valley between her breasts.

"God, you're so beautiful," you rasp, your lips moving against her skin. "So fucking perfect."

You reach the peak of her right breast and take the nipple into your mouth. She screams, a high, sharp sound of pure ecstasy. The dual stimulation; the deep, stretching fullness of your cock filling her pussy while your mouth works its magic on her sensitive nipple: is too much for her nervous system to handle. Her back arches violently off the bed, trying to push herself deeper onto your cock and, somehow, press her breast harder into your mouth at the same time. You suck strongly, laving the hardened peak with your tongue, nipping gently with your teeth. Her moans change, deepening from pleasured cries into long, keening wails.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!" she gashes. "That… your mouth… while you're… inside me… it's too much! I can't…"

You switch to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, refusing to let either feel neglected. You feel the frantic thrumming of her heart against your chest, the way her entire body is trembling on the verge of completely unraveling. You continue to fuck her hard and fast, your hips a relentless engine of pleasure, your mouth a vortex of sensation on her breast. She is being attacked from all sides, besieged by a pleasure so intense it’s a breath away from pain.

"Please," she sobs. "Please, I need to… I need to cum. You have to let me."

You lift your head from her breast, your lips slick, and look her in the eyes. Her gaze is wild, unfocused, pupils blown wide. "You want to cum for me, baby?" you ask, not slowing your pace for a second. You drive into her, hard, and she cries out. "You want to feel my cock deep inside your pussy when you come?"

"Yes! Yes, please, I'm begging you!" she cries, her hips bucking wildly, trying to match your frantic rhythm. "I can't hold on anymore. It's so good… it's too good. Please, make me cum. Fuck me until I cum."

This is it. This is the surrender you crave, the sound you are addicted to. Her begging is the sweetest music you’ve ever heard. You lean in close, your mouth right next to her ear, your hot breath ghosting over her skin. You can feel the fine hairs on her neck stand on end.

"You're so close, aren't you?" you whisper. You feel her shiver violently. "I can feel your pussy clenching around my cock. It's getting tighter. You're about to fall apart for me."

"I am," she whimpers, turning her head, trying to capture your mouth with hers, but you deny her, wanting her to focus on your words, on your cock filling her. "Please… let me. Let me go."

"Then go," you command, grabbing her hips, lifting them slightly to change the angle, driving your cock into a spot deep inside her that makes her see stars. She lets out a sound you’ve never heard before, a raw, animalistic cry of pure sensation. "Let go for me, Jimin. Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my cock. I want to feel your pussy milk me while you scream my name. Cum for me now!"

The command, the raw filth of your words, combined with the relentless, punishing fucking, is what finally does it. You feel the first tremor deep inside her, the unmistakable sign that she's tipping over the edge.

"I'm gonna cum!” she screams, the sound exploding right next to your ear, a hot, vibrating wave of pure ecstasy. "OH FUCK, I’M CUMMING!!”

Her orgasm is a violent, beautiful storm. Her body convulses around you, her inner walls clenching and pulsing on your cock in a frantic, unstoppable rhythm. She throws her head back and screams, a long, ragged sound of pure, untethered release. Her hips slam against you, no longer in rhythm, just wild, spasmodic movements as the pleasure rips through her. You don't stop fucking her; you match her intensity, pounding into her as she comes, driving her deeper into her climax. You feel her hot juices flood her cunt, coating your cock in her release.

After what feels like an eternity, the violent convulsions begin to subside, replaced by deep, shuddering tremors. She collapses back onto the mattress, completely spent, a string of breathless, broken sobs escaping her lips. You slow your thrusts, moving in and out of her gently now, letting her ride the last waves of her pleasure. You pull out slowly, your cock slick and dripping with her essence, and collapse beside her, pulling her sweat-drenched body against yours. You are both trembling, both breathless, both utterly, completely undone.

You hold her, your bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in the rumpled sheets. You can feel the frantic, rabbit-fast beat of her heart starting to slow against your chest, her ragged pants gradually deepening into something more controlled. For a long moment, you just lie there, listening to the sound of your own breathing mingling with hers, feeling the aftershocks of her powerful orgasm tremble through her body. You press a soft kiss to her damp forehead, your thumb gently stroking her back.

After a few minutes, she stirs, letting out a long, contented sigh. She lifts her head from your chest, her hair a wild, beautiful mess, her face flushed and glowing.

"Hey," you whisper. "How are you feeling?"

She looks at you, her eyes still a little dazed, but shining with a bright, clear light. A slow, languid smile spreads across her face. "Great," she pants, the word a soft puff of air. She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at you. "No, that's… that's not the right word." She shakes her head, as if searching for a better one. "I've never… ever felt that good in my entire life. I feel… obliterated. In the best possible way." She reaches out, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You made me cum so hard. I think my soul left my body for a minute."

"Good. That's what I was going for." You love seeing her like this, so completely sated, so open and unguarded. "So, I guess that answers my next question," you tease, your hand sliding down her back to cup her ass, squeezing gently. "Or do you think you can take any more?"

You expect her to laugh, to say she needs a break, to maybe curl up and fall asleep. But the look in her eye changes.

"More?" she says. She lets out a soft, throaty laugh. "Of course I can."

Before you can react, she moves with a sudden, surprising strength. She grabs your shoulders, pushing you firmly onto your back. You go willingly, sinking into the mattress, intrigued by this sudden shift in energy. She straddles your chest, her knees on either side of your head, and leans down, her face just inches from yours.

"But," she whispers, her hair falling around you like a dark curtain, "it's my turn now."

She pulls you up by your hands, maneuvering you until you're sitting up, then pushes you back down again until you're lying flat on your back in the center of the bed. She crawls over you, her movements fluid and deliberate. She settles over your hips, straddling you, her knees planted firmly on the mattress on either side of your body. The view is breathtaking. You look up at her, at the perfect, heavy swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, her pink, swollen pussy still slick with her juices.

She reaches down, her fingers wrapping around your still-hard cock. You hiss as her cool fingers touch your hot, sensitive skin. She strokes you slowly, once, twice, watching your reaction, her eyes glittering with newfound power.

"You liked making me beg, didn't you?" she asks. "You liked hearing how much I needed you." She leans down, her lips brushing against yours. "Well, now it's your turn to feel what it's like. To just lie there and take it."

She positions herself, guiding the thick, slick head of your cock to her entrance. You can see the muscles in her thighs tense as she prepares to take you. She lowers herself with agonizing slowness, her eyes locked on yours. You watch her face as she takes you in, her expression a mixture of intense concentration and dawning pleasure. Her lips part, a soft hiss escaping as the head of your cock slides past her wet folds. She sinks down, inch by excruciating inch, her tight, hot pussy swallowing you whole.

The feeling of her taking you, of her being in complete control, is a whole new kind of ecstasy. When she has taken your entire length, she sits still for a moment, letting you both get used to the feeling of being joined again in this new configuration.

Then, she begins to move. It’s not the hard, frantic fucking from before. This is different. This is pure, sensual control. She starts with a slow, deep grind, her hips rolling in a lazy, circular motion. You groan, your hands coming up to grip her hips, but she just smiles, placing her hands on top of yours, stilling them. "No," she whispers. "My turn, remember? Just lie back and enjoy the ride."

She moves with an innate, hypnotic rhythm, her hips swaying, rotating, grinding your cock against all of her most sensitive inner walls. You can do nothing but lie there, completely at her mercy, as she plays your body like an instrument. She leans forward, bracing her hands on your chest, her breasts dangling just inches from your face. She picks up the pace slightly, her slow grinds transitioning into a steady, sensual bounce. She rises up on your shaft, then sinks back down, her movements fluid and graceful. With every downward slide, she lets out a soft, contented sigh, her head falling back, her eyes closing in bliss. This is Jimin in her element, a performer, a dancer, and right now, you are her stage, and she is giving the performance of a lifetime, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles, grinding your cock against her deepest, most sensitive walls.

Each rotation sends a wave of exquisite friction through you, a pleasure so profound it’s almost agonizing. You can do nothing but lie there, a willing captive to her rhythm, your hands gripping the sheets at your sides to keep from grabbing her, from disrupting the perfect, hypnotic control she has established. Her head is thrown back, her eyes closed, a single, continuous, breathy moan spilling from her lips. She is completely lost in the sensation of filling herself with you, of being in total command.

It is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing you have ever witnessed. The soft light from the window traces the elegant curve of her spine, the subtle flex of the muscles in her back and stomach as she moves. Her breasts, full and heavy, sway with each languid motion, their own mesmerizing dance. You watch, transfixed, as she smiles, a slow, secret smile of pure, selfish pleasure.

You can’t resist any longer. Your hands leave the sheets and come up to her, not to her hips to control her, but to her breasts. You cup their weight, your thumbs finding her still-puckered nipples. Her flesh is soft and warm, yielding to your touch. You squeeze gently, and her eyes fly open, locking with yours. Her moan deepens, becoming a throaty, guttural sound, and her hips grind down on you harder, a clear, unmistakable response. She likes it. She likes you touching her, worshiping her, even as she controls the fucking.

You continue to knead her breasts gently as she rides you, your thumbs flicking over her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her that you can feel in the way her pussy clenches around your cock. The combination of watching her, touching her, and feeling her move on you is an intoxicating cocktail of sensations.

She leans forward, bracing her hands on your chest, bringing her face close to yours. Her eyes are dark, swirling with a mixture of lust, power, and something else, something playful.

"Have you ever," she whispers as she continues her slow, steady bounce on your cock, "imagined this? Fucking a K-Pop idol? Having Karina from Aespa ride your dick like this?"

You let out a shaky laugh, the sound half disbelief, half pure awe. "Never," you say. "Not in my wildest, most fucked-up dreams, Jimin. I never thought I'd even speak to you again, let alone… this." You gesture vaguely to the impossible reality of your bodies being joined. "This is… beyond anything I could have ever imagined." You reach up, your hand leaving her breast to cup her cheek. "You are so unbelievably beautiful right now. On top of me. Taking my cock. I can't… I can't even process how beautiful you are."

She leans into your touch, her hips never ceasing their hypnotic, sensual movement.

"I think…" she says, so soft you have to strain to hear it over the wet sounds of your fucking. "I think this is where I belong." She searches your eyes, a desperate need for validation in her gaze. "On your cock. Like this. It feels… right."

"You do," you say. "You're right. This is exactly where you belong, Jimin. You're mine."

Your words are the final permission she needs. It’s as if you’ve unlocked the last cage, unleashing the wild, untamed creature she keeps hidden from the world. The shift is instantaneous. The slow, sensual grind vanishes. She picks up the pace, her hips slamming down on your cock with a force that drives you deep into the mattress. She starts riding you with a frantic, desperate energy, no longer teasing or exploring, but fucking. She is fucking you with everything she has.

Her hair whips around her face, her body is drenched in sweat, and a stream of filthy, broken moans pours from her lips. She moves with a startling, intuitive skill, her hips tilting, rotating, grinding in a way that she knows, that her body inherently understands, will maximize your pleasure. She’s hitting hard with every downward slam, dragging the head of your cock along all the right walls. Her breasts are no longer swaying gently; they are bouncing wildly, a beautiful, chaotic jiggle that mirrors the abandoned rhythm of her hips. You are completely at her mercy, pinned beneath her, as she rides you with a single-minded goal: to drive you absolutely insane.

"Fuck, you're so hot," she pants. "Your body… I can't believe this is real. I can't believe I'm actually doing this, that I'm riding you." She shakes her head, a look of genuine, wondrous disbelief on her face. "I feel like I'm going to wake up."

You want to anchor her to this reality, to prove to her that this is not a dream. You lift your hands from her tits and reach for hers, the one still braced on your chest and the other tangled in the sheets beside you. You capture them, your fingers intertwining with hers, your grip firm and steady. She gasps, her eyes locking with yours. You squeeze her hands, a silent message passing between you. I'm real. This is real. We are real.

The gesture works. A new wave of confidence washes over her, the last vestiges of her disbelief burned away by the simple, grounding touch of your hands locked with hers. A fierce, determined look enters her eyes. She picks up the pace again, her bounces becoming higher, harder, each downward slam of her hips punctuated by a shared grunt of effort and pleasure. You can feel the tension coiling in your own body, the familiar pressure building deep in your balls. You’re getting close, and she can feel it too. The way your hips have started to buck up to meet her thrusts, the way your breath is catching in your throat—she knows.

She leans down, her face close to yours, her expression a perfect mixture of seductive confidence and genuine curiosity. "You're close, aren't you?" she asks. "I can feel you twitching inside me. You're going to come for me soon." She grinds her hips down, a slow, deliberate circle that makes you groan her name. "Tell me where you want it. Where do you want to cum?"

The question is so direct, so filthy, so utterly her in this new, empowered state, that a raw laugh escapes you. "Guess," you manage to rasp.

A wicked, knowing giggle bubbles from her lips. She doesn't even have to think about it. "On my breasts," she says immediately, full of certainty. "You want to cover my tits with your cum, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" you ask, your hips thrusting up involuntarily.

"A little," she teases, a wide, beautiful smile lighting up her face. "You're such a pervert."

"Can you blame me?" you groan, your gaze dropping to her magnificent, bouncing breasts. "They're perfect. I've been thinking about doing this since the moment you took off your sweater."

"I know," she says, and the way she says it, so full of pride and satisfaction, makes your cock throb inside her. "They're all yours." She leans in again. "But you have to make a good mess. I want you to cover them completely. Get them all sticky and hot with your cum. Promise me."

"Fuck, Jimin," you gasp, your body trembling. "Don't say things like that unless you mean it."

"Oh, I mean it," she says, her hips beginning to move in a final, frantic assault. She’s bouncing on your cock with a wild, desperate energy, trying to wring every last drop of pleasure from you. "I want it all. I want you to empty your balls for me. Cum for me, baby. Come on my tits now!"

"I'm going to!" you shout, the words ripped from you. "Karina, I'm going to cum!"

Without a word, she breaks the connection, sliding her body off your cock with a wet, sucking sound that echoes the hollowness you now feel. Before you can even question it, she moves with a dancer's deliberate grace, crawling to the edge of the bed and sinking to her knees on the soft rug below. She looks up at you from the floor.

You follow her lead, your mind reeling, your body acting on pure instinct. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand before her. The world has tilted on its axis. The sight of Jimin, your childhood best friend, Karina, a global icon, the woman whose face adorns billboards and magazines, kneeling at your feet is so surreal, so intensely erotic, it feels like a fever dream. Her hair is a tangled mess around her shoulders, her face is flushed with exertion, her lips are swollen and parted, and her eyes… her eyes are fixed on your cock with a look of devotional worship.

She is waiting.

You take your cock in your hand, the skin slick with her juices and your own precum. The head is swollen, twitching with need. You start stroking yourself, a slow, steady rhythm, your gaze locked with hers. You want her to watch. You want to see her expression as you bring yourself to the edge for her.

Your hand moves on your cock, a slick, frantic motion, but it's almost unnecessary. Her gaze, her posture, her very existence in this moment is all the stimulation you need. She squeezes her breasts together, pushing them up, the pale, heavy flesh forming a perfect canvas, a perfect target. The nipples are hard, dark points in the soft mounds, practically begging to be decorated.

"Please," she whimpers. "Look at them. They're waiting for you. I want to feel your hot cum all over them. I need it. Please, baby, give it to me. Drench me." She shifts on her knees, her eyes wide and pleading. "I want to be your good, filthy whore. I want you to paint my tits."

Her words are a lit match to a barrel of gasoline. A deep, primal roar tears itself from your throat, a sound of pure, untethered release. Your hips snap forward, your eyes roll back into your head, and the world dissolves into a blinding, white-hot flash of sensation.

"Fuck! Jimin!" you scream as the first torrent of your orgasm erupts from the tip of your cock.

It's a powerful, shockingly thick shot that arcs through the air with surprising force, splattering directly in the center of her chest, in the deep valley created by her hands squeezing her breasts together. A thick, pearlescent glob lands with an audible smack against her hot skin.

She gasps, a sharp, shuddering intake of breath, her whole body jolting as if you’d touched her with a live wire. "Yes!" she cries out, her eyes fluttering shut. "Oh god, it's so hot... so warm..."

But you're just getting started. Your body is a machine now, completely outside of your conscious control. You grip your cock, your knuckles white, and with another guttural groan, a second, then a third powerful spurt are unleashed. These ones are ropes, thick and heavy, that land higher, one splattering across her right breast, covering the dark, puckered areola completely, the other hitting her delicate collarbone and starting to drip slowly down her neck.

"More!" she pants, her eyes still closed, lost in the sensation of being covered by you. "Give me all of it! Don't hold back!"

You obey her command, your hips continuing their involuntary bucking motion. Spurt after spurt flies from you, a relentless, massive load that you didn't even know you were holding. You paint her with your release, a chaotic, beautiful masterpiece of pure lust. A thick shot coats her left breast, another lands on her shoulder. You see a long, thick strand connect from your cock to her chin for a split second before it falls, adding to the growing mess on her chest. She is taking it all, not flinching, not shying away, only sighing and shivering as each hot, wet impact makes contact with her skin.

Even as the initial, powerful torrents begin to subside, you don't stop. You wrap your hand firmly around the base of your shaft and start to stroke, determined to give her everything. "Every last drop is for you, Jimin," you manage to gasp out. You milk your cock, forcing out the last, thickest globs of your semen, adding them to the already considerable mess. Your cum is everywhere. It’s pooled in the hollow of her throat, it’s dripping in thick, slow trails between and under her breasts, it has completely coated her chest and neck in a sticky, glistening layer.

Finally, your orgasm spends itself completely. You sway on your feet, your knees weak, your body utterly drained. You stare down at the scene, your breathing coming in ragged, harsh pants.

Karina stays kneeling for a long moment, her chest rising and falling heavily beneath the cooling, sticky evidence of your pleasure. Then, slowly, she opens her eyes. She looks down at herself, a look of pure, unadulterated awe on her face.

"Wow," she whispers. She looks up at you, her eyes shining. "Look what you did to me. You came so much."

Then, she does something that makes your already overloaded brain short-circuit again. She dips the index finger of her right hand into the thickest pool of your cum between her breasts. She lifts it, watching the thick, white strand stretch and then snap. A slow, mischievous smile spreads across her face. She uses her finger to swirl the cum around, drawing lazy circles and patterns on her own skin.

"It's so sticky," she says with a giggle, completely devoid of shame, full of nothing but a raw, playful joy. She dips the fingers of her other hand in, spreading the mess further, connecting the splatters, ensuring every inch of her chest and the full, heavy curves of her breasts are coated in a uniform, glistening layer of you. "Am I pretty like this?" she asks, looking up at you through her lashes, her face a picture of filthy innocence. "All covered in your hot cum?"

You can only nod, completely speechless.

She sees your state and her smile widens. She leans forward, takes the now-sensitive, post-orgasm head of your cock into her mouth, and gently, reverently, sucks you clean. Her tongue is soft and methodical, a soothing, incredible sensation that makes your knees threaten to buckle.

When she's done, she pulls back and looks up at you again, her own masterpiece complete. "All clean," she says softly. She gestures down at her chest. "All of it is on me now. Just like I wanted."

You finally find your voice. "You're… perfect," you say. "Absolutely fucking perfect."

You sink to your knees in front of her, your strength completely gone. You cup her face, your thumbs wiping away a stray drip of your own cum from her chin. You look at her, this incredible woman, your childhood friend, your idol, your lover, covered in your filth at her own request. And then you kiss her, a deep, soul-searing kiss that tastes of salt, and sweat, and sex.

—

You crack an eye open, the morning light filtering through a gap in Jimin’s bedroom curtains, painting stripes across the far wall. The space beside you in the massive bed is empty, though the sheets are still rumpled, still faintly radiating her warmth and her unique, intoxicating scent. You’re sprawled on your stomach, clad only in your boxer briefs. You push yourself up, wincing slightly as your muscles protest, and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

The apartment is quiet, save for the distant, comforting clatter of something in the kitchen. Coffee. The thought alone is enough to make you move. You pad out of the bedroom, your bare feet silent on the cool wooden floor, still feeling the pleasant, lingering ache in your groin, a happy souvenir from the night’s activities.

And there she is.

Jimin is standing at the kitchen counter, her back to you, humming softly to herself as she expertly works her fancy espresso machine. And she’s wearing your shirt. Your button-down from last night, the one you’d discarded so carelessly on her bedroom floor. It’s ridiculously oversized on her frame, the sleeves rolled up multiple times, the hem falling to her mid-thighs, offering tantalizing glimpses of her long, pale legs. Her hair is piled on top of her head in another one of those effortlessly perfect messy buns, a few errant strands escaping to kiss the nape of her neck.

It’s such an incredibly domestic scene, but the irony isn't lost on you: one minute she’s a K-pop idol, the next she’s your childhood crush confessing feelings, then she’s a screaming, cum-covered goddess, and now… now she’s just Jimin, making coffee in your shirt in her sun-drenched kitchen. Your head is still trying to catch up with the whiplash.

You lean against the doorframe just watching her for a moment. She moves with an easy grace, even when she’s just reaching for a mug, a quiet confidence in her posture that wasn’t there when you first reconnected. She turns then, two steaming mugs in her hands, and her own smile, soft and a little shy, blooms when she sees you.

"Oh, good morning," a slight blush creeps up her cheeks, but her eyes are warm. "I wasn’t sure when you’d surface. Or if you’d even remember where you were."

"Morning," you reply, your own speech still a little rough from sleep. You push off the doorframe and walk towards her, your gaze lingering on the way your shirt drapes over her. "And trust me, last night is pretty… unforgettable. Slept like a fucking log, though. Best sleep I’ve had in ages."

"Me too," she admits, her blush deepening slightly as she hands you one of the mugs. The rich, dark aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills your senses, a welcome antidote to the lingering haze of your hangover. "Black, two sugars, right? Or has your sophisticated palate evolved since our high school instant coffee days?"

You chuckle, taking a grateful sip. Perfect. "Still remember, huh? Impressive. And no, some things are sacred. This is… this is exactly what I needed." You take another long, appreciative gulp. "So, are you feeling the after-effects of that wine as much as I am?" you ask, gesturing vaguely to your head. "My skull feels like it's been crushed by a baseball bat."

She laughs, a light, airy sound. "Tell me about it. Definitely a two-aspirin, one-gallon-of-water kind of morning for me too." She sips her own coffee, her eyes meeting yours over the rim of the mug, a comfortable, knowing silence settling between you for a moment. "So," she begins, her gaze dropping to her mug for a second before returning to yours, a hint of that earlier vulnerability creeping back in. "Last night… that was… " She trails off, searching for the words.

"Amazing," you supply, your own words soft but firm, leaving no room for doubt. "It was fucking amazing, Jimin. All of it."

A relieved, almost dazzling smile breaks across her face. "Yeah," she breathes, her shoulders relaxing visibly. "Yeah, it really, really was." She takes another sip of coffee, then, almost as if she can’t help herself, she adds, "You… you really know how to make a girl feel good. Like, really good."

"Just returning the favor," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes. "You weren't exactly holding back yourself." The memory of her, riding you with such wild abandon, her cries echoing in the room, makes a heat rise through your body, making your cock give a responsive throb in your boxers. You discreetly shift your weight. This domestic morning-after scene is lovely, but your body clearly hasn't forgotten the main event.

A comfortable lull settles as you both sip your coffee, the shared memories of the night before a warm, unspoken presence. But then, you see a flicker of something in Jimin’s eyes, a subtle shift in her expression. She sets her mug down on the counter, her fingers tracing the rim. The tension, which had dissipated, slowly begins to creep back into the room. Here it comes. The inevitable "what now?"

"So…" she begins, her gaze fixed on her coffee cup, her words careful, almost tentative. "What… what happens now? With us?" She finally looks up at you, her eyes wide and searching. "Was last night just… you know… a one-time thing? Because of the wine, and the confessions, and… everything?"

You set your own mug down, your heart giving a familiar, uncomfortable thump.

This is it. The moment of truth.

"A one-time thing?" you repeat. You let out a short, humorless chuckle, running a hand through your already messy hair. "Jimin, after last night… after you… do you honestly think I could just… walk away from that? Pretend it didn't happen?" You meet her gaze, your own expression deadly serious now. "I really, really like you. More than like you, if I’m being completely honest. And… and I don’t think I can be the same around you anymore. Not after yesterday." You take a deep breath. "I think… fuck, I know… I need you. Like it’s oxygen. And that terrifies the absolute shit out of me, but it’s the goddamn truth."

The silence that follows is deafening. For a heart-stopping moment, you think you’ve said too much, gone too far, laid yourself too bare.

Then, slowly, miraculously, a smile begins to spread across her face. It’s not just any smile. It’s a Jimin-smile, a radiant, all-encompassing beam of pure, unadulterated happiness that lights up her entire being, that chases away every last shadow of doubt and fear in the room. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Without a word, she pushes herself off the counter, closes the small distance between you in two quick steps, and then her arms are around your neck, her body pressing against yours, and she’s kissing you. It’s a kiss that tastes of coffee, and relief. It’s a kiss that seals the deal, a kiss that says everything you both needed to hear. And as you kiss her back, your own arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, feeling the soft warmth of her body clad only in your shirt against your bare chest, You suddenly remember that Jimin, your Jimin, is no longer just yours, is no longer just Jimin, your dork childhood friend.

You pull back slightly, your gaze searching hers. "Jimin," you begin, "this is… this is incredible. You’re incredible. Last night was… beyond anything." Her smile softens, her eyes shining with affection, but you press on. "But… what the hell do we do now? I meant what I said, about needing you, about all of it. But us… like this…" You gesture vaguely between the two of you, encompassing the intimacy, the secret now hanging palpably in the air of her sunlit kitchen. "You know what your life is like. The spotlight, the fans, the company… SM isn’t exactly known for its progressive stance on its idols having, well, this." Your irony here is bitter, a defense mechanism against the very real fear clenching your heart. "This could be… dangerous for you. For your career. I don’t want to be the one who…"

Jimin’s fingers gently press against your lips, silencing you. Her expression is soft, understanding, but there’s a new firmness there too, a resolute calm that wasn’t present during her earlier, more vulnerable moments.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her thumb brushing your lower lip. "Don't. Don't do that. Don't spiral." She leans in, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to your mouth, then another to your cheek, then your forehead. Her touch is like a balm, soothing the sharp edges of your anxiety. "I know all of that. Believe me, I live it every single day. But right now," she continues, her eyes holding yours, clear and unwavering, "right now, I don’t want to think about any of it. Not SM, not the fans, not the potential fallout. Not yet."

She pulls back just enough to look you squarely in the eyes, her hands now resting on your shoulders. "What happened last night, what’s happening right now," she says, "this is real. And it’s ours." Her lips curve into a small, almost conspiratorial smile. "No one needs to know about this. Not now, anyway. It’ll be our secret, okay? Just for us."

Her words, her confidence, the delicious, illicit thrill of a shared secret with her: it’s an intoxicating, dangerous combination.

"Our secret, huh?" you echo, an eyebrow quirking upwards. "You know, that’s… that’s actually kind of fucking sexy, Jimin. The danger of it all… it’s a little exciting, isn't it?" You can't help the way your own words deepen, the way your gaze drops to her lips.

She lets out a delighted, throaty chuckle. "See? I knew you’d get it." She leans in again, her lips brushing yours, a silent promise of more to come. "Danger is always more exciting." Her breath is warm against your skin, her proximity reigniting the embers of last night’s events.

Between feather-light kisses that dance along your jawline, your neck, she murmurs, "But, speaking of not wanting things to get… complicated… or, you know, result in tiny, K-pop-superstar-related accidents…" She pulls back slightly, her expression turning a little more practical, though the sultry glint in her eyes remains. "I think it might be a very, very good idea for you to acquire some condoms. Like, a lot of them. A truly impressive, perhaps even alarming, quantity." A playful smirk dances on her lips. "We can’t exactly keep pushing our luck like last night, as… memorable as it was."

"Duly noted. I’ll arrange for a strategic acquisition of latex-based defenses. Consider me on a mission."

"Good," she purrs, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your mouth. Then, her hand, which had been resting on your shoulder, slides down your chest, a slow, deliberate trail of fire, down, down, until it reaches the front of your boxer briefs. Her fingers close around your already-hardening cock, her touch light but possessive, sending a jolt straight through you. You gasp, your hips giving an involuntary twitch.

She looks up at you through her lashes, her smile turning wicked, utterly predatory. "Because," she whispers, her breath hot against your lips, her fingers giving you a slow, deliberate squeeze that makes your knees weak, "while we wait for those… reinforcements… there is something I can do for you right now. Something that definitely doesn't require a condom."

And with a final, devastatingly innocent flutter of her eyelashes, she slides from your embrace, her hand never leaving your groin, and slowly, gracefully, sinks to her knees on the kitchen floor in front of you. The morning, it seems, is far from over.

In fact, this is just the beginning.

[planetaryupscaled]

Sharing is Fun!

Male Reader x Yeji x Yujin x Kazuha x Karina

Tags: 12k, smut, threesome, oral, anal, creampie

I didn’t know if we had ever put any labels on our relationship, simply because Yeji was always so busy. But I always considered myself lucky when I had a chance to be around her. And after all the airports, all the hotels, and many hours on stage. The fact that she decided to spend her free time with me calmed my nerves just a bit.

It was Tuesday. We were cuddling up on the couch under the comforter, my arm wrapped around her body. Yeji was watching but I was staring down at her lovely face. Everything about her is perfect.

Yeji noticed my gaze out of the corner of her eye. She looked up at me and kissed me on the cheek. My left hand travelled from her bare shoulder to her breast.

“Babe, we just had sex” Yeji said, she adjusted her body so my hand went back to her shoulder. “You just fucked my brains out.”

“Hmm.” I shrugged. “I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Yeji slapped my chest playfully. We woke up early, and let’s say it took us a while to get out of bed. Yeji gave me a knowing smirk.

“I’m just touching.” I said.

“We’re gonna be like one of those couples that can’t take their hands off each other.” Yeji laughed.

My eyes wandered down to her silky-smooth legs. Yeji wore a plain white thin-strap tank top and grey athletic shorts.

“Someday we’re gonna have a whole day without sex.” Yeji began to giggle before she could even get half the sentence out.

“See? You know you’re lying.” I laughed with her.

“Shut up.” Yeji grabbed the side of my head and kissed me softly. I kissed her back with my hands moving towards her sides. Yeji moaned into my mouth until her phone rang.

Yeji quickly broke the kiss and nearly kicked me in the chest to reach her phone. She read the message and then stood up, giving me a little happy dance with her hips swaying.

“What happened?” I asked, a small part of me was nervous she’d just gotten a new gig. Yeji turned around with a smile.

“A very special guest.” Yeji said with a sexy purr.

“Special guest?” I asked, raising my eyes and wondering who it could be.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise.” Yeji grinned.

“C’mon…” I whined.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Yeji said and proceeded to do a little dance. “You’re gonna need a lot of energy.” She then got up and walked away towards the stairs.

“Hey, that’s barely a hint!” I jokingly shouted.

“She’ll be here in an hour. Can you cook something?” Yeji asked.

“I… Sure.” I shrugged.

“Thank you, babe.” Yeji blew a kiss and trotted upstairs.

I didn’t have the ingredients or time to make something fancy, so I just decided to make spaghetti. Yeji came downstairs with black heels clicking against the steps. My cock twitched when I saw her outfit. She wore a tight black strapless dress that showed off her long legs and pushed her breasts upwards. Her hair was styled to wavy perfection and her lips were a sexy and classy bright red.

“Wow.” I said, staring up at her phenomenal figure. Yeji smiled cutely and spun around when she reached the bottom of the steps.

“Should I get my suit?” I asked.

“If you want.” Yeji smiled. “I think you’re fine.”

“You just seem a little overdressed compared to me.”

“You want me to take it off?” Yeji asked with a fake pout.

“I mean…”

“No. Not yet,” Yeji smiled and made her way towards me, her eyes locked onto the display of food.

“Mmm… Looks good.” Yeji hugged me. She placed her face against my chest. I wanted to grab her ass, but the doorbell rang.

“She’s here!” Yeji backed off of me and pushed me towards the door.

“Coming!” I shouted. I opened the door to find Karina standing there.

“Hey! It’s good to see you!” Karina beamed. She wore a simple outfit, a pair of form-fitting blue jeans and a loose-fitting black shirt that showed off her long line of cleavage. Karina gave me a big hug before I let her in the house.

“Yeji!” Karina yelped after placing her purse on the table. Yeji wrapped Karina up in a hug. Yeji giggled coyly and broke the hug.

“Now as much as I’d love to catch up, I need to take a quick trip to the loo.” Karina gave us a polite smile and shuffled off to the bathroom upstairs.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be Karina…” I mumbled.

“I told you it was a surprise.” Yeji shrugged.

“I mean, I’m not complaining.”

“Good.” Yeji kissed me on the cheek. Karina came back from the bathroom and let out a deep sigh.

“How was the flight?” Yeji asked.

“Argh.” Karina sighed. “Anything negatives you can think of, you know the drill.” She said as she ran her fingers through her hair.

“Well, you can finally relax. How long do you plan on staying?” I asked as Karina sat down on the couch and kicked her shoes off.

“A few days,” Karina said. “Then I have to go back to Milan.”

“That’s great.” Yeji smiled.

“I made spaghetti; do you want some?” I asked.

“Oh yes!” Karina jumped off the couch and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“This looks amazing!” Karina smiled as she grabbed a plate and walked back to the couch, holding her plate and fork.

We ate together and chatted casually about our jobs. Karina finished her meal first and kept an eye on me and Yeji as we talked. I was sitting next to Karina, with her hand on my inner thigh.

“How’s your sex life?” Karina asked casually. Yeji just finished talking about her solo comeback.

“It’s good.” I replied, clearing my throat awkwardly. Karina’s cleavage and her sexy smile were right in my peripherals.

“Just good?  I was asking you both.”

“Well, we certainly do it a lot.” Yeji laughed.

“Look. You two are cute couple,” Karina said. “But I’m nice, full and horny.” she said. Her voice was full of anticipation.

I smiled at Yeji. Yeji shrugged and smiled back. When I turned my body towards Karina, she immediately pulled me in for a kiss.

I groaned as her soft lips, and even softer, much heavier breasts pressed against my chest. Karina’s hands slid down to the waistband of my shorts, tugging hard while trying to maintain the kiss. I broke it to help her.

“Thanks.” Karina grinned as she got off the couch to move me along. Karina was on her knees in between my legs, pulling my shorts down my legs with a smile that could only be described as sophisticated sluttiness. She moved with the elegance of a woman of her status, but pulling my shorts down like a cock-hungry whore.

“Yes…” Karina groaned as my underwear came into view. She kept those gorgeous eyes of hers on mine as she kissed my shaft through the fabric. Karina placed her fingers in the waistband of my underwear as she trailed her kisses lower towards my tip. Karina purred as she yanked my underwear down my legs, freeing my rock-hard cock.

“Oh, you’re huge…” Karina bit her bottom lip in the sexiest way possible. I kicked my discarded bottoms to the side as Karina grabbed my throbbing cock with both of her tiny hands.

“You’re one lucky girl.” Karina smiled at Yeji direction.

“Oh, I know.” Yeji laughed as her hands crept under her dress. Karina swallowed my cock while keeping her eyes on me. She slowly, oh so slowly began to bob her head, her soft lips sliding up and down my cock. Karina moaned tenderly into the wet skin of my shaft, a slick trail of spit shining up my cock.

“Fuck…” I moaned as Karina went deeper. She gags a little but doesn’t even slow down as her nose met my pubic bone. Karina was smiling with her eyes as every inch of my dick was buried down her throat. I groaned and hissed in pure pleasure as my cock was trapped in the warm mouth.

“That’s so hot…” Yeji moaned, now clearly touching herself. I heard the sound of her fingers working her slick pussy over my heavy breathing. Karina held my cock for a while before pulling back and gasping for air.

Karina smiled as she stroked my spit-soaked cock with both hands. Karina kissed and licked at the tip while giggling to herself. I reached down to appreciatively rub the top of her head, running my finger trough her hair.

“Do you have any lotion?” Karina asked Yeji.

“Yeah…”

“I have an idea I think he’d love.” Karina said, her eyes shone as she continued to absentmindedly stroke me.

“On it.” Yeji quickly rolled off the couch and made her way upstairs. Karina removed her hands from my cock and grabbed the hem of her shirt, quickly pulling it over her head and leaving her in a lacy black bra.

“What’s the idea?” I huffed.

“I can’t just tell you.” Karina giggled.

“You two just love to tease…” I groaned.

Yeji came downstairs with a bottle of lotion and handed it to Karina. Karina squirted it in between her cleavage with a few pumps, creating a thick layer of lotion to cover the slopes of her big tits. Karina gently rubbed the lotion into her skin, her smile and eyes fixed on me like glue.

Yeji decided to spring into action. She kissed the tip of my cock before grabbing the base and stroking it delicately. Yeji then swallowed my cockhead, wrapping her lips just where the foreskin ended and swirling her tongue over my crown.

“Hmm…” I groaned. Yeji kept her head still, clearly fighting her urge to take me all the way in an attempt to one-up Karina. Karina, after thoroughly moisturizing her glorious breasts, gently pulled Yeji away from me and lifted her bra.

My dick tip disappeared under the cups of her bra, sliding into a prison of soft and warm of her tits. Karina giggled as she lowered her massive, glorious tits down the length of my shaft, the lotion making it so slick and smooth.

“Christ…” I groaned. My swollen, sticky cockhead poked through Karina’s mass of pale tits. Karina lowered her chin to swipe her tongue over it, getting a taste of my precum and the lotion. I let out a low moan as Karina started pumping her tits up and down my cock.

Yeji crept up behind Karina, staring at me with devilish eyes as she planted a series of passionate kisses along Karina’s shoulder and neck. Karina moaned and increased the pace and pressure of her tit job. Yeji’s kisses turned to long licks against Karina’s skin as Yeji’s hands slid around behind her.

I felt my balls churning and my stomach tightening. I rarely felt my orgasm this early, but Karina was really good. Her plump breats smacking against my pelvis and massaging my dick were borderline unbearable.

“Getting close?” Karina asked with a smile.

“Uh huh…” I mumbled.

Karina came to a complete stop as Yeji removed her bra. Karina slid her tits off of me with a slick sound before letting the straps fall down her shoulders and off her chest. Karina’s glistening tits were finally free and my mouth watered at the sight of them. Karina then turned to the side so she was facing Yeji.

“Mmm you look so nice in that dress…” Karina moaned as her fingers gripped the top of Yeji’s dress. Yeji smiled giddily at Karina’s compliment. That was one of the rare times when Yeji was speechless and silly. Yeji finally understood how her own gravitational pull worked.

“Thanks” Yeji blushed.

“But I’d like it off, He would too…” Karina said as she quickly yanked Yeji’s dress down to her stomach, freeing Yeji’s tits. Yeji’s breasts were obviously nothing to scoff at but they were small in comparison to Karina’s. Karina wrapped a hand around the back of Yeji’s head.

Yeji huffed lightly in quiet surprise. Karina smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. Yeji moaned and melted underneath Karina’s lips. Yeji’s tits were pancaked by Karina’s much, much bigger ones. Karina’s body overpowered Yeji’s as their tongues, lips, and sweet tender skin connected.

I fought the urge to start jacking off at the sight of the two gorgeous women passionately making out. Karina broke the kiss and eagerly placed her thick, plump lips back on my cock, sucking and bobbing with extra spit to make it really sloppy. Yeji giggled at the sight of Karina’s messy fellating while reaching underneath Karina to cup her swinging pendulous tits.

“You like that, babe?” Yeji purred.

I moaned and nodded, my cock once again on the edge of exploding. Karina upped her speed and loosened her lips so her endless wash of saliva coated my cock.

“Fuck…” I groaned and popped inside Karina’s mouth. Hot, thick blasts of cum battered her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Karina held my cock against her lips as I fired spurt after spurt of seed into her throat.

Karina slowly and carefully slid her lips off of my drained cock, careful not to spill a single ounce of my cum. Karina then turned to Yeji. Yeji’s eyes widened in excitement. Karina held Yeji tight and lifted herself slightly. Yeji kept her mouth wide open while running her tongue over her top lip. Karina opened her mouth and let the waterfall of thick cum fall into Yeji’s mouth.

Yeji closed her eyes and savored the flavor of my cum mixed with Karina’s spit. Karina slowly lowered her mouth down to Yeji’s, causing a small amount of cum to leak down Yeji’s chin. Yeji moaned softly as her lips finally connected with Karina’s. Both girls made out with my cum sloppily dripping down their chins, the corners of their lips, and dripping down onto their breasts.

When Karina and Yeji were done swapping my thick load, Karina got to her feet., and quickly unzipped her jeans before gripping the waistband and yanking them down with eager tugs. The way Karina’s wide, womanly hips came into view as the fabric of her jeans fell down her legs forced me to get hard again.

Karina stepped out of her jeans and I noticed the massive damp spot on her light blue panties.

“What?” Karina smiled.

“You’re so sexy…” I said as I removed my now sweat-stained shirt and made my way towards Karina’s backside. Yeji grabbed Karina’s panties, pulling them down slowly so all three of us could see the trail of wetness sticking to the fabric. Karina’s pussy was literally dripping wet.

“See what you do to me…?” Karina moaned as the air hit her soaking cunt. I dropped to my knees and placed my hands on Karina’s asscheeks, kissing the smooth skin.

“Ohh…” Karina moaned as I admired her delicious, perfect body. I spread her asscheeks, giving me a clear view of her pussy and asshole. Then I plunged my tongue, deep inside her pussy, causing her legs to shake and her breathing to speed up. Then my tongue moved upwards, so close to her asshole.

“Mmm, just do it,” Karina huffed, turning her head to look down at me. So I stuck my tongue up and slipped it into her asshole.

“Nghh fuck…” Karina wailed to the rooftop as my tongue invaded her asshole, bucked her convulsing hips, and pressed her ass into my face.

“Yes! That’s… Ugh! You’re gonna make me cum!” Karina screamed in pure pleasure, her asshole clenching my tongue.

“Anghh…!” Karina cried. She was coming, I could tell because I felt her fingers roughly digging into my scalp to pull me away. Karina shuffled away and collapsed onto the couch to ride out her orgasm. Yeji spread her legs and played with herself, with her usual ‘fuck me’ expression plastered across her face.

“Come here…” I beckoned to Yeji. She smiled and crawled towards me. I placed her on her back and started to admire her body the way I always did. Kissing and licking over her tasty breasts and moving my lips up to her collarbone.

“That’s it…” Yeji moaned as I sneakily slipped my cock inside of her tight pussy. Yeji moaned gratefully as my kisses moved to her neck. I fucked her with slow, sloppy strokes while passionately kissing her chin and finally moving to her lips. Yeji wrapped her arms around my neck as we fucked each other like there wasn’t a convulsing Karina on our couch.

“So good…” I groaned when I broke the kiss.

“I invited Karina for a reason…” Yeji laughed and kissed my nose.

“So you want me to stop?” I asked.

“Mmm, No…” Yeji moaned and returned to kissing me. At the slow and sensual pace I was stroking Yeji with, I knew I wasn’t going to cum anytime soon. I just enjoyed fucking her, how her tight walls wrap around my cock, wrapping my arms around her soft, perfect body and just giving her all. Yeji came softly, moaning as her pussy was strangling my cock.

I broke the kiss and slid my cock out of Yeji’s pussy when I heard Karina moving around on the couch. Yeji was on her back, moaning and writhing slightly.

“She made a big mess…” Karina said with a pouty expression as she got off the couch and crawled towards me. I was sitting with my legs crossed, my eyes locked onto Karina’s big, swinging and sweaty tits. She placed her head on my inner thigh, her long hair tickling my skin.

“Oh yeah…” I moaned as Karina stuck her tongue out, rolling it around the thick, creamy ring Yeji had made around my shaft. Karina teased my cock with a smile until she suddenly rolled around so she was on her knees. Karina leaned in to kiss me softly before placing her hand on my chest to push me to my back.

“I need this cock in my pussy.” Karina cooed as she raised her legs to straddle me. Yeji quickly crawled around me.

“Just gonna help you out.” Yeji said to Karina. She spat on my cock before slipping it into her mouth and sloppily blowing me. Karina was clearly getting impatient, but Yeji was trying to clean me off. After Yeji glazed my cock in spit, Karina finally lowered herself down onto me.

“Hmm…” Karina yelped as she slid all the way down my dick. Yeji’s earlier blowjob clearly helped.

“Sooo huge…!” Karina giggled as she rocked back and forth, her hands gripping her glorious breasts and squeezing them.

“It almost feels like too much.” Yeji purred.

“Never too much…” Karina grinned before removing her hands from her breasts and placing them flat on my chest. Karina’s face twisted from her gorgeous smile to a look of determination as she began to bounce herself up and down my cock.

“Ohh fuck!” Karina moaned in ecstasy as my cock was melting under the onslaught of her constantly driving, hot pussy. Her tits bounced so fast they smacked her ribs with rapid thuds. Sweat caked her skin, her breathing was at the same pace as her bouncing ass.

“Nghhh…” Karina cried as her big, jiggly tits bounced in a blur and her slick, saven pussy continued to batter my cock into dust. Yeji crawled around to kiss my chest and neck. I reached upwards to cup Karina’s breasts, stopping the hypnotizing bounce and filling my hands with the hot and doughy flesh.

“Yeeessss…” Karina moaned as her bounces shifted into a smooth, gentle grind of her hips. I squeezed her tits tight, causing her pussy to clench onto my cock with a series of wild, random pulses. Karina’s orgasm rocked her silently, causing her to fall forward, breaking my grip on her tits and letting them sandwiches against me. Karina moaned loudly as she arched her back. I raised my legs so my knees were up in the air.

“Aaahhh!” Karina moaned as her perfect breasts pressed against my face. I greedily sucked on her tits, slobbering all over her areolas and wiping my lips over the succulent skin. Karina’s pussy was gushing all over my cock as she rolled her hips on me. I saw Yeji watching us in awe out of the corner of my eye.

Karina came hard with another wave of high-pitched yelps as she smothered me in her tits. I couldn’t hold back. As Karina lifted herself slightly, I fired a shot of cum straight inside of her. Karina immediately dropped herself back down as I filled her up with ropes of cum. Her fat tits were crushing my head and I was drooling while flicking my tongue out back and forth, desperate for a taste.

“Ohhh that feels so good…” Karina huffed as her body went limp. I kept filling her up until my legs fell to the floor, causing Karina’s body to slide back so her head was on my chest. I was no longer being suffocated by her tits, my disappointment loud and clear in my groaning. Yeji crawled towards me and turned my head to pull me in for a kiss.

Karina crawled away from me when Yeji broke the kiss with a smile. We both watched a few drops of cum come out of her pussy. Karina took a deep breath and reached down to keep some of cum inside her cunt.

I didn’t give Karina time to rest as I shuffled towards her, my cock jutting forward.

“What are you…” Karina said.

“Oommff!” I cut her off by slipping my cock into her mouth, my crown sliding over her slick tongue and rubbing against the roof of her mouth. Karina opened her eyes and tightened her lips around my shaft. She smiled with her eyes as she began to slide her lips over my cock, keeping them sealed tight around the skin.

I slowly pushed my hips forward, stretching her lips. Karina rolled her eyes in ecstasy and moaned around my girth. She placed her hands on my thighs to push me back, leaving my cock dripping with spit. Karina pursed her lips and turned her head down to let a thick line of slime leak out of her mouth.

“Fuck my throat…” Karina begged, staring up at me with her beautiful brown eyes. I immediately obliged, grabbing the back of her head and cramming my cock deep inside of her mouth. I slammed my dick into her gullet, against her chin and my tip battering the back of her throat. Karina gagged hard, causing spit to trickle down her chin and my shaft.

I wrapped her hair and gripped it tightly, pulling her face deeper into my pelvis, relentlessly jackhammering my dick into her wet mouth. Karina’s hands wrapped around my back, pushing my cock deeper down her throat, just when I thought she couldn’t take it any longer.

Karina pressed her nose to pubic bone and held my back for nearly a minute. She then slowly slid my cock out of her mouth with a pop, coughing and gagging as she craned. She wiped sweat from her brow before extending her tongue and quickly rolling it over my cockhead.

“My turn…” Yeji said.

I looked over to Yeji and pushed her legs up until her knees were on either side of her head. I positioned and rubbed my cock over her slit before penetrating her. Yeji screamed as I penetrated her most sensitive area. The I began pumping in and out of her until our hips literally merged. I felt her quiver as I slid my cock in and out of her dripping-wet pussy. This quickly sent her over the edge.

“Ahh fuck…” Yeji moaned.

I kept my cock stationary inside of her gripping pussy lips before I felt my stomach tighten. Yeji’s legs shook wildly as I returned to fucking her with deep strokes.

I slipped out of Yeji’s pussy and Karina’s mouth immediately latched onto my cock. She bobbed her head quickly, cleaning off Yeji’s juices and leaving the tip dripping with spit. I angled myself to slide my cock back into Yeji. She screamed again.

Then it was back and forth. I fucked Yeji with three or four deep strokes before pulling out and letting Karina suck me. While it briefly helped me fend off my impending orgasm, Karina’s lips and tongue were like torture devices.

“Ohhh…” I popped my cock out of her mouth, planning to cum all over Karina’s face. But she quickly grabbed my base with her left hand and placed her right hand over and above my back to force me back inside Yeji’s pussy.

I groaned as I filled Yeji’s pussy with cum. My cock pulsed and stretched inside her as I took a series of deep, shaky breaths. When I finally stopped cumming, I crawled back to admire the thick glob of white oozing from Yeji’s cunt.

Karina muttered as she pushed me forward and sucked my cock. Karina sucked the mixture of Yeji’s cum and mine clean from me, leaving it slick and shiny.

“That was fun.” Karina gigled.

“Yeah, it was…” Yeji sighed.

“You two wouldn’t mind if I stayed the night?” Karina asked.

—

Later that night, we were cuddling in bed watching TV, with a naked Karina and Yeji on either side of me. Yeji’s head was on my shoulder, while Karina’s rested against my inner thigh. I felt her hot breath against my skin. She purposefully adjusted herself to place her breast against my skin. I don’t mind, they feel soft, nice and huge.

Karina kept moving, her soft and supple body rubbing against my leg. Yeji’s hand went to my chest, rubbing it slowly until she let it wander down my stomach. Yeji’s finger brushed over the waistband of my boxers. I heard her let out a quiet giggle when I froze up.

Karina moved her head from my inner thigh to my now already hard cock, her cheek resting against my shaft. She knew exactly what she was doing. Both of them did.

I grunted. “Eyes on the screen.”

“My eyes are on the screen.” Karina said, now rubbing her cheek over my erection.

“Mine too.” Yeji said, her hand still resting on my lower abdomen. I wanted to say something, but I kept quiet as Yeji’s hand moved slowly into my underwear. Karina raised her head as Yeji grabbed the base of my cock and lifted it to form a tent in my underwear.

Karina expertly reached back to pull my underwear over my throbbing cock, keeping her gaze fixed on the screen. Yeji’s hand was gently gripping my shaft, and Karina turned her chin to the side, leaving her hot breath on my swollen head.

“Keeping my eyes on the screen…” Karina said softly. It was obvious she was holding back a giggle. I turned my head to face Yeji. She briefly looked up at me as she began to stroke my cock.

“Eyes on the screen, babe…” Yeji purred with a devilish grin.

“You’re not making it easy…” I groaned. Just as I turned away from Yeji, Karina wrapped her lips against my tip. I moaned softly as she rolled her tongue over my crown, licking away at the cum that had leaked out due to Yeji’s gentle touch.

Karina kept her head and eyes fixed on the screen, expertly lowering her head up and down the first few inches of my cock. She hummed softly as she lowered her head up and down the length of my cock, my sensitive tip grazing the roof of her mouth at the perfect angle, causing a groan to escape my lips.

Thin lines of spit escaped the corners of Karina’s mouth, causing Yeji’s strokes to gain a hypnotic slick sound. Karina knew she couldn’t go any further down without taking her eyes off the screen, so she opted to continue torturing my tip with her tongue and mouth.

I could not take it anymore. I reached behind to grab the remote and turned off the TV, leaving my lamp as the only source of light in the room.

“Hey! I was watching!” Yeji said, immediately turning her head towards me. Karina pulled her mouth off my cock and shifted her body so she was facing me.

“You are mean.” Karina smiled.

“Trying to be funny, huh?” I huffed.

Yeji’s hand was still holding my wet cock, and Karina’s thick lips were barely an inch away from the tip. My cock twitched slightly as I watched her lovely, full breasts jiggle with her slight movement.

“I liked it,” Yeji said as she removed her hand from my cock and crawled forward. She had her bare ass in my face and her mouth close to my cock.

Yeji then shoved my cock into her mouth, wiggling her ass to give me a hint. I focused my attention on Yeji’s beautiful, glistening pussy and ass. I wrapped my hands around her waist and pressed my face against her backside.

“Nghh…” Yeji slipped off my cock and squealed. I felt Karina’s mouth on my cock. I worked my tongue in Yeji’s pussy at the same pace Karina’s tongue was coiling around my girth. I heard Yeji’s desperate moans as I rolled my tongue around inside her slippery folds.

Karina slid her mouth off of my cock and Yeji pounced on it again. Yeji sucked with more speed and aggression than Karina did. I squeezed Yeji’s soft, sweaty flesh as I pushed my jaw forward to force my tongue even deeper inside her pussy.

Yeji popped her mouth off my cock and Karina greedily slurped it into her own mouth. The girls went back and forth sucking me, creating a thick layer of warm spit around my shaft. Every time I came close either Karina or Yeji would pull back at just the right time. The difference in their blowjobs eased the tension.

Yeji came softly in my mouth multiple times, but when I changed my tongue movement to long, aggressive licks along the length of her cunt, she exploded.

“Mmmpphhh…” Yeji mumbled around my cock before violently spitting it out. Karina immediately placed her mouth on my cock, but this time she changed her rhythm. Her blowjob was looser and wetter as Yeji moaned loudly.

I pulled my wet lips free from Yeji’s pussy, watching her legs squirm and almost kick me. Karina’s blowjob was getting even sloppier as her hands caressed my balls. Yeji, after somewhat recovering, turned her body so she was facing me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her, giving her a taste of her pussy juices.

Karina’s blowjob was loud, over the top, and nonstop. Yeji broke the kiss and wrapped her arms around my neck. I dug my nose into her neck, taking in her scent.

“You like the way she sucks that cock, babe?” Yeji purred in my voice, that sweet honeyed accent sending electric shocks through my body. I barely mumbled a word.

“You gonna cum?” Yeji asked before biting my neck.

I nodded slowly. Karina took my cock all the way down to the base, her sloppy tongue somehow grazing my balls. I felt Karina’s hair tickling my skin as she kept my cock buried deep in her throat. Yeji planted wild kisses along the side of my face towards the corner of my lips.

Yeji then backed her head up slightly and smiled down at me. I was seconds away from bursting in Karina’s mouth. Yeji then leaned down to pull me in for a passionate kiss. My toes curled and my body shook wildly as the waves of pleasure that were inside of me all flew towards my cock. I came hard in Karina’s throat and she gagged loud enough for both of us to hear it.

I felt Karina’s lips move up until they were just at the tip. Karina pursed her lips tight around my cock, almost like she was milking every last drop. I melted in Yeji’s embrace, my body had gone numb and the only feeling was in my constantly spurting cock. After returning to the land of the living, I was greeted with Yeji’s heavenly smile.

“Woah…” Was all I could mumble. Yeji gave me a little kiss before crawling off of me and moving towards Karina.

“Awh… You swallowed it all?” Yeji moaned as she grabbed the sides of Karina’s face.

“Sorry… It’s just so exciting to drain a cock dry. Especially such a big one.” Karina giggled softly.

“Oh, believe me, I know…” Yeji purred. Then she got on all fours.

I caught a glimpse of Karina’s sopping wet pussy before I got to my knees and placed a hand on Yeji’s ass, rubbing my second favorite part of her. My favorite part of Yeji is her smile, but her ass is a close second. I tapped my cock head against her entrance before slipping it inside of her perfect pussy with ease.

“Ahh…” Yeji moaned as I spanked her ass and crammed my dick deep inside of her. She went wild, a hard dick driving into her, and a throughout spanking was all of her favorite sexual things rolled up into one.

I then reached down and pulled Yeji’s hair and pressed her back until her head touched the bed before relentlessly pounding her tight pussy with long, deep hard strokes. She let out a surprise, followed by a weak moan to end it off. Her pussy was gushing all over, staining the bed, and drilling down my shaft.

Yeji looked back at me with a surly smile on her face as she began to fuck me back. I groaned and let go of her hair. Yeji caught herself with her hands as I let her grind her ass back against my pelvis.

Then Karina made her way around Yeji. She kissed me on the cheek before standing up on the bed to smother me with her big soft tits. I slowed my thrusts to halt as Yeji took control, fucking herself on my cock. I mumbled into Karina’s massive tits, losing control while being crushed by them for the second time today.

I felt my orgasm rising with Yeji’s warm, gripping walls putting my dick in a blender, Karina’s soft tits wrapped around my head weren’t making it easier to hold back. I was close, but I couldn’t say anything. My head was filled with moans and groans, making it impossible to focus on anything other than finishing.

I let out a deep groan that alerted both of them. Karina pulled her tits from my face and Yeji crawled off of my throbbing cock. Karina crawled in front of me and got to her back, spreading her legs high up in the air. Yeji was at Karina’s side and kept her hands on Karina’s legs to keep them straight.

“Get in there…” Yeji huffed, her eyes wide and locked onto Karina’s dripping pussy. I huffed and moved forward to slide myself inside of Karina.

“Nngaaahh…” Karina moaned when I finally bottomed her out.

“I’m close…” I groaned.

“Cum inside me....” Karina whined while biting her bottom lip. I began to work my hips with short and quick thrusts, giving her just enough to make her cum before I did.

“Yess…” Karina grinned and grunted as I kept pumping my cock in and out of her, the sound of Karina’s slippery pussy the only thing keeping me going.

“Nghhfuckk!” Karina huffed, her eyes tightly shut and her back arched. Her pussy was squeezing me really tight. Then came hard, but she bit her bottom lip to keep quiet.

A minute later I came hard, flooding Karina’s pussy with the last bit of seed I could muster.  Karina sucked in air as she gazed at my cock pulsing inside her.  I kept cumming inside of her until nothing remained. Then I pulled away from her, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.

“Soo good…” Karina moaned in pleasure as my cum leaked out of her freshly fucked pussy.

I watch the clock and it’s already past midnight. I fell to my back and was just on the verge of falling asleep when Yeji moved her way up to my neck.

“Did you like the surprise?” Yeji whispered in my ear.

“I- I wouldn’t mind any other surprises.” I huffed.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Yeji grinned and kissed me on the cheek.

“Happy birthday.” She said.

It was Thursday when I awoke from what may have been the best sleep I’d had in weeks. All I remember is that last night Yeji invited some her friends to throw me a small birthday party. To be honest, I was not the type to throw a party, but since it was Yeji, I didn’t mind.

I rolled over and checked my analog clock. It’s already 10 a.m.

Crawling out of bed and cracking my back. I grabbed my phone from the dresser and saw a message from Yeji stating that says she went on with her schedules, as well as two missed calls from Kazuha.

It sent a shock through my system. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I called her back, the excitement of hearing her voice jolting me out of my usual early morning brain fog. The phone rang and rang until I heard footsteps in the hallway.

“Good morning, birthday boy...” Yujin said with a smile as she leaned against the door. I didn’t know where to look. Her hefty, braless tits pressed against the door frame, or her gorgeous smile. She wore a plain beige shirt and nothing else. I swear I can only remember Me, Yeji, and Yujin making out, but not about fucking them.

“Did we…?” I tried to ask, almost forgetting that my phone was still ringing. I put it down, assuming Kazuha was busy.

“No, Sort of. You were drunk when you ate my pussy. Then you fell asleep.” Yujin smiled while pointed to the bed with her hand. I noticed the white pillowcase had a deep red lipstick imprint on it and a faint bite mark.

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Yeji said you wouldn’t mind if I stay for a bit?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “Besides… with you, I doubt she mind with anything.”

Yujin then walked into the room until those legs of hers were against the side of my face. She ran her fingers through my hair and cupped under my chin.

“You’re really good at it even when you’re sleep deprived and three bottles deep.”

“Only three?” I cleared my throat and looked up at her.

“You’re kind of a lightweight.” Yujin said with a smile.

“Me?” I laughed. “And You aren’t?”

“Not really. I assume you don’t drink that much since you’re always working on with those JYP sluts you have over there.”

“Hey, be nice,” I said. “I’m just tired.”

“Yeah, tired fucking Yeji and Karina’s brains out.” She retorted.

“Hmm…” I hummed. I lazily kissed her inner thigh, her bare and clean-shaven pussy right in front of my face. Yujin pulled my head away from her creamy legs and bent down to kiss me on the lips.

“I thought about sucking you off in your sleep, but you definitely needed all the rest you could get.” Yujin’s beautiful eyes were wide and alluring. Her hands moved from my face down my neck and then the top of my plain white shirt. She tugged at the fabric while biting her bottom lip.

“Take your shirt off...” She cooed.

I did as I was told, quickly slipping my shirt over my head. I started to remove my boxers, but Yujin cut me off by gently grabbing my arm.

“I’ll do it.” Yujin said before grabbing the sides of my boxers, her cold hands tickling my skin. Yujin pulled my underwear down slowly, her eyes getting wider and wider with every bit of my cock that was revealed. She had my boxers down halfway before planting a tender kiss on my shaft, moaning when she pulled my cock all the way out.

“Hmm...” Yujin beamed as my underwear met my ankles and her lips met my shaft again.

“Such a nice cock.” She said.

Yujin then peppered it with timid little kisses and licks, causing me to groan and pat her head. I felt her warm tongue slowly moving up and down my veins until it reached my tip, just barely touching it. I looked down at her as her lips wrapped around my glans, her eyes big and expressive as my cock widened her lips.

Yujin used her finger to brush her hair from her face and behind her ear. She then began to bob her head up and down, sucking my cock rhythmically as her tits jiggled wildly underneath the confines of her thin top. Yujin took herself all the way to the base with every third bob of her head, sending warm spit traveling down the length of my shaft. As Yujin suck me good, Kazuha returned the call. I picked up, swallowing a groan as I covered my ear to block out Yujin sloppy blowjob.

“Hey!” Kazuha greeted me.

“Hey Kazuha,” I huffed. I knew Yujin was sucking me even better because she heard a cheerful tone over her blowjob. That sloppy wet sound went way over the phone.

“Are you getting your dick sucked right now?” Kazuha asked, clearly smiling into the phone.

“Um- yeah...” I admitted.

“How is it?”

“Ng- Pretty…” Yujin’s eyes stared at mine, a slight smirk forming around her lips with my cock deep in her mouth. “…Good.”

“Yeji?” Kazuha asked.

“Yu- jin. I’m... uh, we’re just... fuck...” I groaned as Yujin started to deepthroat my cock, impaling herself and gagging as her eyes stayed locked onto mine.

“Oh yeah... she sounds like she’s sucking your cock good.” Kazuha cooed. Her voice, especially the way she said cock, sent chills down my spine and an extra spark to Yujin’s work.

“Is she naked?” Kazuha asked. I reached down to lift Yujin’s shirt, but she pulled herself away from my cock and lifted it to her collarbone herself.

“Now she is...” I grinned as Yujin’s tits came into view. She immediately wrapped her messy mouth around my hard coke, returning to sucking me nice and deep. Yujin put her entire body into her bobbing, sending her tits flopping as her fingers crept down between her legs.

“Can I ask you something?” Kazuha said casually.

“Sure...” I groaned as bubbles formed around my base and Yujin’s lips.

“Can I come over? I just got back from Japan and I’m a little... jet lagged,” she explained. “I know you’re super busy but if you could…”

“Of course you can.” I interrupted her.

“Really?”

“Yea- I’m... Oh yeah... I’m free right now...” I explained as my toes curled against the carpet. Yujin had both hands on my shaft, working her wrists and fingers as her fellating got even sloppier. She was also undeniably loud.

“What. All week?” Kazuha asked.

“Yup...”

“Give me forty minutes,” Kazuha said.

“Sounds good... see you then...” I was close. Yujin’s eyes were closed and I could tell Kazuha was getting turned on with every second that passed.

“See you then...” Kazuha cooed before hanging up. God, Yujin had me on thin ice. Her hands, neck, mouth, tongue, and lips worked tirelessly on my cock. She then slid her lips back, leaving only the first two inches of my spit-soaked cock in her mouth. Yujin then grabbed my knees with her wet hands before opening her eyes. That’s it.

I let out an odd hissing sound as I emptied my balls into Yujin’s mouth. I came so much that it overflowed from the corner of her mouth and down her chin, a few mixed drops dribbling down her tits. I kept cumming, the force so powerful I had to lift myself a few inches off the bed. Yujin swallowed as much as she could as the rest of it peppered her neck and tits.

Yujin popped my cock out of her mouth with a huge smile and a few drops of my cum were dripping down her bottom lip. She then stood up and wordlessly pushed me to my back.

“You got more in you?” Yujin asked despite knowing the answer. My cock pulsed when she slid her shirt over her head and straddled me, her heat and wetness right on top of my shaft.

I smiled as she lowered herself down on top of me. I usually needed a short break after finishing, especially from such a good blowjob, but seeing Yujin’s firm tits bounce uncontrollably as she rode me could make any man keep going. Yujin creamed on me multiple times as her ass bounced against my pelvis. I reached up to cup her incredibly soft tits, massaging the globes as best I could despite her hyperactive bounces.

“Oh yess, I’m gonna cum on your cock!”

Yujin face curled up into a blissful smile as her first orgasm ran through her. My hands were still glued to her tits as her sweaty form convulsed on top of me. Yujin came even harder than I did, her hair falling in front of her face as she let out what sounded like cries of fear.

She fell on top of me and cupped my face before kissing me. Her hair against my skin, her tits sandwiches against my chest, her sweet kisses. Yujin was a really good fuck. Plain and simple. My hands were on her back and I moved them down to her supple ass, squeezing hard and giving her right cheek a firm smack.

“Ah!” She squealed and giggled into my face. I kissed her nose as she smiled down at me.

“God this pussy is so good...” I said with a lustful groan. Yujin smiled harder at the compliment.

“Then fuck it good...” She said through her kisses.

I flipped her over onto her back and began digging my cock deep inside of her. I grabbed her arms and pressed them against her tits, causing them to squish together and jiggle erotically. Yujin threw her head back and moaned. I leaned down, causing our foreheads to collide as we breathed heavily in each other’s faces.

I usually needed to eat breakfast and get at least a little bit of water in me before morning sex as intense as this, but this was Yujin. She needed, no, she deserved a good fucking. The time of day didn’t matter when it came to her. I was also definitely spurred on by the fact that Kazuha would be showing up today as well. I feared my cock wouldn’t be able to get up when Kazuha showed up.

Then again, it was Kazuha. If my cock couldn’t get up at the sight of her it couldn’t get up for anyone.

Yujin’s hands gripped my arms as she yelled against my collarbone, her pussy squeezing me tightly. I kept pounding until I slowed down and rolled over so we were both on our side. I slipped my cock in and out slowly, hypnotized by the sound of Yujin’s fat and creamy pussy being stretched out by me.

“Such a good fucking cock...” Yujin groaned in my face. “I can’t... Why can’t I find anyone like you?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” I smiled, still fucking her slowly.

“Sort of... You got any friends?”

“No real ones anyway... If they knew what I got up to...”

“I doubt... I doubt any of them would be as fucking good as you are...” Yujin said as her eyes rolled. My cock throbbed inside of her as I came unexpectedly, this time filling her pussy up with another round of cum.

“Auugh... yeah...” Yujin beamed breathlessly. I kissed her neck as I curled my body to really fill her up. Yujin of course took it all like a champ. I held my cock inside of her for a few more seconds until I pulled out. We both groaned, admiring the deep creampie I made leaking out of her red and messy pussy.

“I- I should really eat some breakfast...” I said, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Let’s take a shower first.” Yujin smiled.

“I feel like you just want to go at it again in the shower.” I said smirking.

Yujin rolled out of bed with my creampie leaking down her legs as she got to her feet. “Really? What gave you that idea?” she said.

Yujin looked at me over her shoulder, an adorable smirk on her flawless face, gripping her asscheek and spreading it to spill the last bit of my creampie onto the floor. I followed her to the bathroom. Something about the double showerhead and frameless sliding shower door had a special appeal.

Yes, we fucked again in the shower. I had Yujin’s tits pressed against the glass as I fucked her standing up, the water flying off our frenzying bodies. Neither of us really focused on getting clean after the first two minutes of lazily applying body wash to ourselves. I turned Yujin around so her back was on the glass in order to see her soapy, wet tits bouncing under my onslaught. When I got close again, I pulled out and she dropped to her knees. I blew my load into her mouth until Yujin cupped her tits so I could glaze them in cum.

—

We had a big breakfast. I made eggs, bacon, toast with jam, and hashbrowns. While I was cooking, Yujin prepared a fruit platter with oranges, grapes, pineapple, and bananas. Yujin was very keen in sticking the banana down her throat while I was watching the toast cook. I made a jerking motion with the salt shaker as I put it on the eggs. We laughed as we continued to share silly sexual innuendos with our food.

It was a beautiful day, so I suggested we eat outside on the deck. Yujin quickly arranged her plate and followed me outside. Yujin wore a thin tank top and shorts that barely concealed her lower body. Yujin was admiring the view of the city, while I was admiring her backside just before She turned around and grinned when she noticed me staring at her ass.

“Round four?” Yujin giggled.

“You got anywhere to be later?” I asked with a light smirk.

“Nope.” Yujin said before grabbing an orange slice from her plate.

“Good. Let’s just wait for Kazuha.” I said.

“We’ll get to ten more rounds with her.” Yujin laughed. I chuckled lightly. Just then, the alarm system alerted me to a knock at the front door.

“I got it!” Yujin quickly skated across the deck and inside the house. I grabbed her now empty plate and followed her inside, dropping the dishes off on the kitchen counter.

“Hey, Kazuha!” I overheard Yujin. I made my way to the front door, cursing myself now for having a big house. All of this extra room kept me from seeing Kazuha, which should be considered a crime. Kazuha hugged Yujin as they stumbled backward into the house.

“Hi...” Kazuha said, her eyes effortlessly drawing me in. She looked simple yet so stunning. Yujin released the hug and went to bring Kazuha’s bag inside before closing the door.

Kazuha wore black leggings with white stripes on the sides. The leggings were tight and clearly intended for someone with a little less meat on their bones, but on Kazuha, they were fit like a second skin. Her top was a simple soft white shirt with her nipples visible through the fabric, indicating she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her shoes were a worn-down pair of all-white Nikes.

When I reached out my arms for a hug, Kazuha jumped and wrapping her arms and legs around me. She kissed my cheek and whispered something in Japanese into my ear. Her voice dripped with lust, it was something sexual, I guess.

“God, I missed you.” Kazuha purred into my ear before biting it. I kissed her lips and brushed her long hair from her face.

“Whoa…” I said. “You’re in good spirit, no more boys problem?”

“Nope,” Kazuha laugh. “Sorry I missed your birthday.” She pouted.

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re busy,” I waved at her. “I missed you too.”

“Say that again.” Kazuha said, she was still in my arms and I was gladly just holding her up.

“I missed you too, Kazuha,” I said, this time adding just a tiny bit more base to my voice.

“Ohh... I know you’ve been putting her through the ringer...” Kazuha grinned cutely while pointing her head in Yujin’s direction.

“She’s been putting me through the ringer. You heard the phone call.” I smiled.

“Yeah I did,” Kazuha removed her legs from my waist and I let her fall gently to the floor. Yujin was behind her, smiling brightly.

“You’ve been keeping Yeji’s man in good spirits?” Kazuha asked Yjin jokingly.

“Of course I have.” Yujin grinned as she leaned against the back of the sectional.

“Something smells good.” Kazuha’s head shot to the kitchen.

“Did you eat?” I asked, gently rubbing her shoulders.

“Nope.”

“Let’s fix that.” I guided her to the kitchen.

“Looks good.” Kazuha smiled at the large amount of food.

“It’s not too much? I know you don’t really...” Kazuha made me lose my train of thought as she walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. She then leaned forward to kiss me sweetly.

She then got off me and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. I looked away from Kazuha to see Yujin making a handheart with a silly look on her face. I smiled at her and walked over to shamelessly grab her ass with my left hand and grope her tit with my right.

“What’s wrong? Trying to prove you don’t have a heart?” Yujin grinned.

“Nothing wrong with having a heart.” Kazuha mumbled as she wolfed down her breakfast next to the microwave.

“She’s right.” I added.

“I’m just saying. Cupids got you good.” Yujin teased.

“No. Yeji’s got me good.” I said as I squeezed her ass tighter before dropping my hand down from her chest and under her top to feel her warm skin.

“Speaking of Yeji, where is she? I thought Karina would be here too.” Kazuha asked.

“They have schedules.” I replied. “The life of an idol huh?”

“Aww…” Kazuha pouted, “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you company.” She smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Round four while she’s eating?” Yujin moaned.

“You two have already gone three times?” Kazuha asked as she finished off her plate.

“We were in the shower for a while.” Yujin smirked.

“And leave me out to dry?” Kazuha cooed.

I let go of Yujin immediately and made my way towards Kazuha. “I will never leave you out.” I said as I gripped her waist and kissed her.

“I mean... three times is a lot.” Kazuha teased.

I cupped her chin to turn her face and leaned down to really kiss her open mouth. My right hand roamed from her waist down to her crotch, running my fingers over her pussy. Kazuha moaned into my mouth as she pressed herself closer to me.

“I want you so bad...” Kazuha groaned in my face.

“Right here?”

“Maybe not here. Upstairs?” Kazuha said.

We rushed upstairs to the same room where I had creampied Yeji, Karina, and Yujin.  Yujin was behind us when Kazuha stood in the center of the room, and I began to take off my shirt and shorts.  Kazuha pounced on me, her tongue moving from my neck to my lips.  I enjoyed how she moaned against me with every kiss.

Kazuha’s left hand found my hard cock, gripping the base and jerking me slowly.

“Fuck zuha...” I groaned. Kazuha giggled as she sloppily kissed all around my midsection and waist until she fell to her knees. her eyes widened as my cock throbbed in front of her face, a small bit of precum leaking from the head and hitting the floor.

“I missed this so much…” Kazuha purred before licking the seed from the tip. I reached down to grip her hair into a makeshift ponytail. Kazuha smirked with her eyes as she swallowed my cock with ease, rocking herself back and forth to suck me with intensity.

“Fuck...” I groaned. I felt Yujin’s head on my shoulder. When Kazuha noticed both Yujin and I staring down at her in awe, she sucked me in even faster. Kazuha’s hands moved to my balls, gently massaging them as she pressed her tongue against the underside of my cock. Her lips were skintight around my shaft. I began to buck my hips in her throat, knowing she could take it.

Kazuha had her hands on my legs and started to push herself into my thrust so I could fuck her mouth. She kept those startling eyes on me as my tip jabbed the back of her mouth. I fucked her face for a minute straight, the sound of my thickness punching her hungry and slippery throat filling the room. Kazuha’s shirt was already ruined with multiple thick lines of spit darkening the neckline and her chest.

Kazuha had her hands behind her back as the spit from her chin battered my balls, turning them into sticky sacks.

“She’s pretty good...” Yujin whispered in my ear. Kazuha pulled off my cock with long trails of spit clinging from her mouth to my shaft.

I let go of her hair, causing it to fall against her wet lips and cheeks. Yujin backed up to lift her tank top over her head, causing her tits to bounce sexily. I turned my body slightly and groped Yujin’s tits while she forced her tongue into my mouth.

Kazuha increased her pace as Yujin and I made out. I squeezed Yujin’s soft tits as she pressed her warm and delicate body against mine. We kissed each other harder than we did this morning until I felt my balls churning. I broke the kiss and looked down to see Kazuha still staring at me, her sloppy mouth still working hard on my cock.

“I’m gonna...” I groaned as I felt my cock throb.

Kazuha pulled back and gripped the base to squeeze as much cum as possible from my cock. She hit me with her gorgeous smile as I busted all over her face, a wild line smacking her forehead and nose. Kazuha kept smiling as I slathered her in cum. A blast landed over her left eye, causing her to close it and the rest battered her forehead. Kazuha opened her mouth wide and wobbled my cock to milk me dry.

“Aahhh...” Kazuha moaned as my waterfall of cum fell onto her tongue and down her throat.

“Holy shit...” I huffed as Kazuha licked her cummy lips and wiped away the line that hit her eyelid. She giggled and licked my cock clean as Yujin slid her shorts down her legs, leaving her fully nude.

“I need to cum...” Yujin mumbled to herself.

“It’s my turn, haven’t you had enough??” Kazuha said. “You already fuck him, three times!” she giggled.

“With a cock like that? It’s never enough.” Yujin purred, her eyes fixed on my cock.

“Now, I want you on your back.” Kazuha turned to face me as she removed her black panties. We were all nude and ready to fuck each other’s brains out. Kazuha pointed to where she wanted me to be. I lay on my back, legs spread and resting against the bedframe. My cock stood straight up as Kazuha straddled me. Her face was right in front of me as she dropped herself onto my cock with no hesitation.

“Ohh...” I groaned as Kazuha buried herself on top of me. Her pussy was so tight and wet. She looked back at me and smiled, causing me to nearly fill her up with cum without a single movement. She leaned forward into the crook of my neck, pressing her tits against my body. My hand moved towards her back, holding her tight. This also gives me a clear view of Yujin playing with herself on the side of the bed; it’s hot.

“Argh, I love your pussy…” I whispered to Kazuha as I continued to pump my cock into and out of her tight walls.

“Y- Yeah? I fucking love your cock, too,” Kazuha said between moans as her breasts shook wildly on my chest. I already knew how creamy Kazuha could get and based on her moaning and whimpering, I could tell that I was hitting all her right spots. My hands roamed over Kazuha’s ass, but she started to grind her hips in a fluid motion.

“Fuck, Kazuha...” I groaned, forgetting that I wanted to feel her up. Kazuha was bouncing on my cock at high speeds, sweat coating her body. It almost send me over the edge.

Kazuha smiled sweetly at me before crunching down for a kiss. I slid my legs up, keeping my feet firmly on the ground and my knees up in the air.

“Yes... Please fuck me good...” Kazuha begged in my ear, her moans were like music to my ears. I immediately complied. There was no teasing or pause. I thrust up, driving my dick deep into her tightness.

“Anhhfuck!” Kazuha roared as my hand gripped the back of her head, pulling her closer. I wanted to feel her shudder against my skin as I pounded her into oblivion. Every forceful clap of my pelvis against her body caused shivers down her spine and squeaks from her mouth. I kept going, staring into her eyes and losing track of how many times she came.

“Anh, Nghh, Ohh, Fuck…” Kazuha kept coming. I did not stop. I rolled her over onto her back and pulled my cock out of her pussy briefly. Kazuha let out a disappointed moan until I grabbed her ankles and flipped her over onto her stomach.

Slap! Right cheek. I spanked her ass.

“Aww!” Kazuha squealed.

Slap! Left cheek.

“Ahh!”

Slap! Right cheek.

“Nghh!”

Kazuha’s entire body was shaking. What I’ve learned about Kazuha and Yeji is that they both enjoy getting spanked.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Auughh!” Kazuha moaned. I wasn’t hurting her, but I definitely leave bright red handprints on her ass cheeks, which I knew she love. It was the reason I had her on her stomach. Kazuha enjoyed the sensation of my pelvis slamming into her spanked booty as my cock split her open. I inserted the head of my cock deep inside and rested my hands on the floor. I then slid all the way in, putting my weight against Kazuha’s ass.

“Shit!” Kazuha wailed. We were both drenched in sweat as I pounded her into submission. Kazuha took it like a good girl that she is, shaking her body with each clap of my perlvis. She pushed her hair to one side. I closed my eyes and leaned down to gently kiss the back of her neck, still pounding my cock deep inside her pussy.

“Fuck!” I groaned as my orgasm flared up again. I felt Kazuha’s legs around my back. And I just let go, unloading my cum deep inside her. Kazuha arched her back and let out a wheeze as I flooded her tummy with my cum. I pulled out and leaned back to watch my cum overflowing out of Kazuh’s freshly fucked pussy.

“That’s amazing.” Yujin said from the bed.

“I- it was...” Kazuha said breathlessly.

I crab walked around, spreading my legs in front of Kazuha’s face, and she quickly swallowed my spend cock. She bobbed her head while sucking our mixture of cum. I bucked my hips to see her reaction. She smiled and took me all the way down until my balls hit her chin. Kazuha looked up at me with her luscious lips wrapped tightly around my shaft. I slowly pushed to get my cock out of her mouth before sliding it back up.

“Gluh...” Kazuha moaned. Or was it Yujin? My eyes were closed, so I had no idea who was making the noises. The only thing I could concentrate on were our moans. The air in the room was hot and getting hotter.

I had a little more in me before I was complety done. And I wanted to make good use of that time. I opened my eyes and gently grabbed Kazuha’s head, my fingers entwined in her hair. I pulled her head up, causing my cock to fall out of her mouth and smack me in the stomach.

“I’ll be right back.” I said as I got to my feet.

“Don’t take too long.” Kazuha said.

I smiled to myself as I hobbled to the hallway bathroom. I kept a large bottle of lube under the sink. It was a gift from Yuna. She sent it a few months ago, and I saved the naughty message on a yellow sticky note that sat on the cap.

‘Use this for the other hole.’ Written in pretty, handwriting with little hearts around the edges of the note. I smiled and gently placed the sticky note on the counter before making my way back to the room.

I walked in and saw Kazuha with her face down and her ass slightly in the air. Kazuha had her head turned towards me with a lustful look in her eyes. A look that could kill.

“What’s that?” Kazuha asked, her voice shaky.

I removed the bottle’s cap before spraying it over my hand. It smelled of vanilla. I didn’t care about the mess it would undoubtedly make.

“A little bit of help.” I explained before spraying it on Kazuha’s back. She giggled as the oil touched her skin.

“You wanna fuck my ass?” She asked casually.

“Of course I do.” I said.

“No you don’t.”

“Sure am.” I put the plug of the bottle in Kazuha’s ass and sprayed.

“Anhh…” Kazuha giggled as the oil soaked her ass. I sprayed for a few seconds before taking it out of her. I put a little more on my already-soaked cock, causing it to drip down my shaft and onto the carpet. I was ready to fuck Kazuha’s ass.

I lined up and slid my cock deep inside, my thickness splitting her open.

“Oh God!” Kazuha shrieked as her oil-coated body convulsed beneath me.

“Just slide it in...” Yujin whispered in my ear, pressing herself against me from behind. Her hands moved across my chest as she watched me fuck a gape into Kazuha’s asshole. I picked up the pace, knowing that my movements were energizing Kazuha. The red marks on her buttcheeks were stretching and dripping oil.

“It’s soo... oh!” Kazuha yelped as I dropped myself balls deep inside. I grunted low and moved my hips to keep my cock inside of her. I could feel and hear Yujin’s shallow breathing next to my ear, as well as the slick sound of her playing with herself.

“Eeuugh, Just fuck me...” Kazuha begged. I did as instructed, dropping myself up and down in her asshole. Every time her wet ass touched my pelvis, I grunted with delight. Kazuha’s lower body pressed against the carpet, making her ass look fat than it already was. A deceptive work of physics that captivated me to no end.

“So good...” She muttered, her teeth digging into the carpet. I kept fucking Kazuha’s ass at a ridiculous pace, banging her with delicious thrusts. She writhed and groaned, desperate for more. I wrapped my hands around Kazuha’s waist, digging my fingers into her slippery skin and holding on tight.

“Fuck! What a fat ass!” I grunted as I continued fucking her ass with vigor.

“Aughh…” Kazuha’s voice was hoarse and ragged from screaming and moaning. I kept going. Yujin moaned behind us, rubbing herself into a quiet orgasm. I kept going. Sweat trickled down to my left eye, blinding me. And I kept going.

My oily balls pounded her dripping pussy.  Her ass was strangling my cock while I buried myself inside of her.  She gasped each time my balls slammed into her precious slit.  Kazuha mumbled something I couldn’t quite understand because of the sound of my cock digging into her asshole.  I stopped thrusting with my cock halfway inside her.

“What’d you say?” I asked, leaning in close to her, letting myself slip all the way inside of her.

“I-  I want you to spank me more...” Kazuha let out a gasp.  I leaned back, raising my right hand into the air and let it fall with force.

Slap!

“Oh!” Yujin squeaked behind me.

Slap!

Wild drops of oil flew everywhere as Kazuha’s asshole gripped my cock so tight it almost hurt.

Slap!

“Cumming…” Kazuha roared as she used up what sounded like every last bit of energy she had. I pressed myself deeper into her asshole. Kazuha could barely breathe, pushing her head to the side in order to get some oxygen.

And I felt something spray on my legs.

“She squirted!”  Yujin let out a gasp.  Until now, I had no idea Kazuha was a squirter.

I pulled my cock out of Kazuha to give her a break, but the moment my hot tip exited her ass, Yujin jumped into action. She was on all fours, moving around me. She then placed her mouth directly on my leaking cock, sucking sloppily and staring up at me.

Her lips moved with the flow and expanded lewdly.  My oil-covered nuts wobbled, sending slippery fluid and Kazuha’s cum flying.

“Oh Yujin, that fuckin mouth...” I groaned and stopped thrusting, content to let her do her own thing.  Yujin sucked my cock and reached back to play with cunt, slobbered all over my cock, dramatically rotating her head to allow a thick line of bubbly spit to flow down her chin.

I wanted to cum inside Yujin’s mouth.  That was until she took my cock out of her mouth with a loud ‘pop’.

“Get on the bed. I want you in my asshole now.” Yujin said casually. I immediately climbed onto the bed and lay on my back. Yujin got to her feet without stumbling, oil dripping from her glistening tits and ass. Yujin stood there, eyes closed, reaching back to finger her asshole.

I stroked myself as I watched Yujin’s body jiggle, dripping wet, and shining.  She heard my stroking, opened her eyes, and extended her hand to silently tell me to stop.  Yujin then pulled her finger out of her asshole and approached me.  She climbed onto the bed and bent her knees to straddle me.

“I’m gonna fucking ride this cock...” Yujin said. I held my cock so she could drop herself down onto me. Her rosebud had wrapped around the tip of my wet shaft.

“Woah...” Yujin shuddered as she lowered herself onto my cock. Her pussy juices were leaking into my stomach. Yujin bit her bottom lip and looked at me with the most sultry expression. Almost as if she was trying to show me that she could fit all of my girth inside her asshole.

My entire body became limp when her butt was fully resting on my base.

“You’re not tired...” Yujin said as she began to bounce herself on her knees. Her hair clung to her body. Her asshole was tight and hot. Her shiny tits were bouncing in perfect rhythm. Her eyes and mouth were both open and lustful. The sound of her sticky and soft ass slamming against me filled the room.

If She said I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t tired.

Yujin was bouncing herself up and down my length all the way, her asshole somehow getting looser and tighter at the same time. She put her hands on my shoulders and laughed excitedly in my face as she sank down onto my dick with all her might.

I looked down and saw Kazuha was gone.  I assumed she went to the bathroom to recover.  That was until I felt a hot tongue against my balls.  Yujin turned her head and laughed even more.

“Oh yea, drain those fat fucking balls!”  Yujin roared, her mouth moving faster than her brain while continuing to fuck me hard.

Kazuha put her lips around my balls.  I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes closed.  Yujin was exhaling rapidly, her high voice echoing off the walls.  The way her pussy sprayed made me feel like she was peeing on me.  I heard Kazuha violently spit on my shaft, and Yujin’s ass absorbed it like it was nothing.  Yujin pressed her ass against me, finally slowing down.

“I- I can’t... I can’t stop cumming...” Yujin giggled. I gave her a weak smile, noticing her leaking all over me.

“What, you getting tired?” I laughed lightly.

“Fuck you...” Yujin huffed, now just rocking herself on me.

“Been doing that all day.”

“Ju- just hurry up and cum...” Yujin begged.  She took a deep breath and began to grind against me, massaging my cock with her ass and rolling her ass against my thighs. Having inside Yujin’s heaving, curvy body was simply too much.

“You gonna cum?” Yujin teased, smiling devilishly.

“Yes...”

“Go ahead and fill my ass...” she hissed.

I placed my head flat on the bed as Yujin collapsed on top of me, and… I came in her butt, my worn-down cock finally done for the day. Yujin dug her face between my neck, kissing me softly. Before she found the strength to slide off of me.

Yujin flopped to her side, her head resting against my chest. Kazuha crawled over both of us. I wrapped my arms around both of them.

“So...” Kazuha started. “You think I can stay the night? Or… maybe the next few days?

“Of course.”

“Good,” Kazuha kissed me on the cheek.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.” Yujin sighed.

[flux1563]

Scandal Payment

Winter x big cock

Words : 6k

Tags : squirting, multiple orgasms, big cock, spanking, creampie, deep throat, cum in face

Winter sat cross-legged on her bed, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the glowing screen of her phone. The room was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the thunderous applause and screams that usually filled her ears during performances. Her heart raced, a wild stallion galloping through her chest, as she scrolled through the articles that had turned her world upside down. The headlines were a blur of accusations and betrayal. How had it come to this?

Her manager, Mr. Kim, knocked tentatively on the door, his voice a trembling whisper. "Winter, the CEO is here to see you. Are you ready?"

Winter took a deep, shaky breath and nodded, even though she felt anything but prepared. She knew the gravity of the situation, the weight of the scandal threatening to crush her career and her life. She had to face the music.

Mr. Park, the CEO of the agency, walked in with a solemn expression. He was a man who had seen the darkest side of the industry, his eyes reflecting a reservoir of unspoken secrets. He glanced at her, his gaze a mixture of pity and resignation. "Winter," he began, his voice a heavy sigh, "we've got a problem."

Her stomach twisted into a knot. She had been dreading this moment, the moment when her entire world could come crashing down around her. She had always worked so hard, striving for perfection in every move, every note, every smile for the cameras. And now, it could all be taken away because of one mistake.

"It's... it's not what it looks like," she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. But she knew the truth was written all over her face.

Mr. Park sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world rested upon them. "I know it's not easy for you," he said, his voice softer now. "But the damage is done. The company's reputation is at stake."

Winter's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was implying. The scandal wasn't just about her anymore; it had become a battle for the agency's survival. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, echoing the fear that had taken root in her soul.

"What... what do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Mr. Park leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers with a fierce intensity. "I have one solution," he said, his voice a low growl. "One way to save both of us. It won't be easy, but it's the only way out."

Winter felt a chill run down her spine. She knew she was about to make a deal with the devil. But she was desperate, clinging to the last thread of hope.

"I'll do anything," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mr. Park's eyes narrowed, a glint of something akin to victory sparkling in them. "One of our investors," he said slowly, "has made an offer. He's willing to help us cover up this... incident."

Winter felt the blood drain from her face. "What kind of help?" she asked, though she already knew what was coming.

"He wants you to be his... companion," Mr. Park said, his voice thick with the unspoken words. "If you agree to this arrangement, we can keep this scandal under wraps and your career can continue. You'll be under his protection, but you'll still be part of the company. You can still be an idol."

The room spun around her, the walls closing in as if the very air had turned to lead. A sex slave. That's what she was being offered as a lifeline. Winter felt the bile rise in her throat, the thought of giving up her body, her very being, to some faceless monster too much to bear. Yet, the alternative was unthinkable. Ruin, disgrace, and the end of everything she had worked for.

"You're asking me to sell myself," she managed to croak out, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Mr. Park nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's the only way," he said firmly. "It's either this or face the consequences. The choice is yours."

Winter felt like she was drowning, her thoughts racing faster than she could comprehend. Her mind was a tumultuous storm of fear, anger, and despair. But amidst the chaos, a flicker of defiance began to burn. She had worked too hard, come too far, to let it all slip away without a fight.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, her voice shaking with the weight of her words. "I'll do it."

The CEO's expression didn't change, but she could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. "Good," he said, his voice cold. "I'll arrange everything. You'll be informed of the details when it's all set."

Winter nodded numbly, her mind racing. How had it come to this? She had always been the good girl, the one who followed the rules, the one who had it all figured out. And now she was being sentenced to a life of servitude.

Days passed in a blur, each one more surreal than the last. Her world had shrunk to the confines of her room, where she waited for the message that would dictate her fate. It came in the form of a sleek black envelope slipped under her door. Inside, a simple note with an address and the words "Come to this private mansion. Wear only a jacket without anything fabric inside. Mr. Y/N is waiting."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she read the message over and over, trying to convince herself that this was just a nightmare, that she would wake up any moment. But the cold reality remained, seeping into her bones like a relentless frost.

The day arrived, and with it, the heavy weight of her decision. She showered, trying to scrub away the feeling of filth that clung to her skin. She slipped on the jacket, the chilly air of the early spring evening brushing against her bare skin beneath it. The fabric was all that stood between her and the unknown.

With trembling hands, she took a cab to the address provided. The mansion was a fortress of opulence, nestled in the heart of a quiet neighborhood. Its grandeur was a stark reminder of the power she was about to face.

Winter stepped out of the taxi, her legs threatening to buckle under the gravity of her situation. The massive gates swung open, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with meticulously trimmed hedges. The house loomed before her, its windows dark and mysterious, like the eyes of a predator watching its prey.

The door to the mansion opened, and a man in a tailored suit emerged, his face a stoic mask. He gestured for her to follow, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through her soul.

The interior was like something out of a magazine, with gleaming marble floors and grand chandeliers casting dramatic shadows on the walls. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and a hint of something else, something darker and more sinister.

Mr. Y/N was waiting for her in a dimly lit drawing room, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was older, with silver hair and a sharp jawline, his eyes as cold as the metal around his fingers.

"Welcome," he said, his voice like velvet over gravel. "I trust you've come to your senses."

Winter's stomach churned, but she forced a smile, her heart hammering in her chest. "Thank you for... helping me," she managed, her voice a shaky whisper.

He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never leaving hers. "Consider it an investment," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "An investment in your future."

The words sent a shiver down her spine. She knew what he meant. This wasn't just a one-time deal; she was being bought and paid for, a commodity to be used at his whim.

"Now," Mr. Y/N said, setting his glass down on a side table with a clink. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Winter's mind rebelled, but her body obeyed. She knew she had made her choice, and there was no going back now. As she followed him up the grand staircase, she couldn't help but feel like she was climbing the steps to her own personal hell.

When they reached the top, Mr. Y/N turned to face her, his eyes darkening as they swept over her bare skin. "Open the jacket," he instructed, his voice a low growl.

Her hands trembled as she slowly unbuttoned the jacket, revealing herself to him. She felt exposed, vulnerable, a piece of meat on display for his perusal. The cold air in the mansion nipped at her skin, making her shiver.

Mr. Y/N took a step closer, his eyes lingering on her body like a connoisseur examining a fine piece of art. "Very good," he murmured, his voice a caress that made her skin crawl. "Now, let's go to your new quarters."

He led her down a long hallway lined with closed doors, each one a potential nightmare waiting to be unlocked. Finally, he stopped at one and opened it, revealing a plush, velvet-covered room that looked more like a prison cell than a bedroom.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of flowers, almost cloying in its sweetness. The walls were lined with mirrors, reflecting her image back at her from every angle, a constant reminder of the deal she had made.

Mr. Y/N's eyes raked over her, a hunger in his gaze that made her stomach churn. He took another step closer, his breath warm against her cheek as he reached out to trace the line of her neck with one finger. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Winter felt his hands slide down her body, the fabric of her jacket whispering against her skin as he pushed it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving her naked and trembling before him. His gaze dipped to her breasts, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight of her hardened nipples.

Without a word, he leaned in, his mouth closing over one sensitive peak. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the tender flesh, and she couldn't help the gasp that tore from her lips. The sensation was almost unbearable, a mix of pleasure and pain that had her body responding despite her mind's protest.

He moved to the other side, giving her no reprieve, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub before he bit down, eliciting a whimper. Her body was a traitor, arching towards him, craving more of the exquisite agony he was inflicting.

The room spun around her, the world narrowing to the feel of his mouth on her body. She felt his hands on her hips, guiding her back towards the bed, and she knew what was to come next. But she couldn't stop it, couldn't even bring herself to protest as he pushed her down onto the soft, velvet surface.

Mr. Y/N's eyes gleamed with victory as he climbed over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. He trailed kisses down her torso, each one leaving a fiery path in its wake. When he reached her navel, he paused, his tongue flicking out to taste her.

Winter's breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as his mouth found her most intimate spot. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but she was paralyzed with fear and a perverse excitement that she despised herself for feeling.

He took his time, savoring her like a fine wine, his tongue dancing around her clit with a skill that belied his age. She felt herself responding, her body betraying her once more as she grew wetter, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

And then, just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he stopped, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror above the bed. "You're mine now," he said, his voice a dark promise. "And I intend to enjoy every inch of you."

Winter's body was a live wire, her nerves singing with the anticipation of what was to come. She felt his hand slide down her stomach, his fingers delving into her wetness, and she couldn't help but arch her back in response. He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine, and then his mouth was back on her, his tongue lapping at her clit with an intensity that stole her breath away.

Her body tensed, her muscles coiling tight as a spring. And then, with a suddenness that took her by surprise, she felt it. The warm rush of liquid that spurted from her, soaking his face as she lost control. Mr. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he licked at her, savoring the taste of her submission.

The sensation was overwhelming, the most intense thing she had ever felt. It was as if her entire being was concentrated in that one point of pleasure, exploding outwards in a shower of sensation. Her legs trembled, her body shaking with the force of her release.

Mr. Y/N pulled away, his face glistening with her arousal. He licked her lips, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "Magnificent," he murmured, his voice a low rumble of approval.

Winter felt a twist of shame, but it was quickly overshadowed by the realization of what she had just done. She had squirted for this man, this stranger who now owned her. It was a humiliating reminder of her new reality, one that sent a jolt of arousal through her body despite herself.

He climbed off the bed, his erection straining against his pants as he moved to a closet and pulled out a set of restraints. "Time to get comfortable," he said, his smile cold and predatory.

Her heart racing, she watched as he approached the bed, the restraints jangling in his hand. She knew she had no choice but to submit, to become the plaything he desired. She allowed him to bind her wrists to the bedposts, the leather biting into her skin as he secured them tightly.

Mr. Y/N's eyes gleamed as he surveyed his handiwork. "Now," he said, his voice a low growl, "we can truly begin."

He unbuttoned his shirt with deliberate slowness, revealing a chest that was as hard and unyielding as the rest of him. His pants followed, pooling at his ankles to reveal the monstrous erection that strained against his boxers. Winter couldn't tear her eyes away, a mix of fear and fascination warring within her.

With a smirk, he pushed his underwear down, freeing his cock. It was massive, a thick, veiny beast that stood proud and erect before her. At least twelve inches of pure, unadulterated power, a symbol of his dominance over her. She had never seen anything so big, so intimidating. Her eyes widened as he stroked it, watching as it grew even larger.

Mr. Y/N stepped closer to the bed, his cock mere inches from her face. "This," he said, his voice a velvet caress, "is what you're going to serve from now on. You're going to take it any way I want it, whenever I want it."

Winter's breathing grew shallow as she stared at the imposing member before her. She had never felt so small, so powerless. Yet, a strange thrill coursed through her, a dark excitement that she didn't want to admit to herself.

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. Her heart hammered in her chest like a wild beast trying to break free. The weight of his body was like a mountain pressing her into the mattress.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his hand guiding her chin up.

Winter stared at the massive cock in front of her, the tip glistening with precum. "It's so big," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't think it can fit."

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly. "You'll manage," he assured her, his voice filled with the promise of painful pleasure.

With a deep breath, she parted her lips, feeling the head of his cock brush against them. It was hot and heavy, the pressure making her mouth water with a mix of fear and anticipation. He pushed forward, and she felt the tip enter her mouth, stretching her lips wide. His hands were in her hair now, guiding her, urging her to take more.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper in the quiet room. "Take it slow."

Winter did as she was told, her eyes never leaving the mirror. She watched as his cock slid deeper, inch by inch, her mouth stretching to accommodate his girth. Her teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and she tasted the saltiness of his desire.

The feel of his cock filling her mouth was almost too much, the sensation overwhelming her senses. She could feel the veins pulsing beneath her tongue, the power in his grip as he held her head in place. He began to thrust gently, pushing her boundaries with every stroke.

Panic began to bubble in her chest as she struggled to breathe, her throat tightening around him. "I... I can't," she gasped, her eyes pleading in the reflection.

But Mr. Y/N was relentless, his eyes dark with hunger. "You'll learn," he said, his voice a low growl. "You'll learn to take it all."

He pushed deeper, the head of his cock touching the back of her throat. She gagged, her eyes watering, but he didn't stop. Instead, he began to fuck her mouth, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm.

Winter's eyes widened as she felt her throat opening for him, the muscles relaxing despite her fear. She took a deep, shaky breath through her nose, focusing on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out, the way it filled her up.

To her surprise, she found herself growing wetter, the sensation of being used, of being his to do with as he pleased, turning her on in a way she had never experienced before.

Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – fear, anger, humiliation, and a dark, pulsing need. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't deny the way her body was responding to his dominance.

And as he continued to use her mouth, pushing her further than she ever thought possible, she realized that she had made a deal with the devil. And she was about to pay the price in full.

Winter's saliva began to dribble from the corners of her mouth, trickling down her chin and onto her chest. She felt the warmth spread across her skin, a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. It was a humiliating reminder of her new role, a symbol of her degradation that seemed to only fuel Mr. Y/N's desire. He watched the droplets with a hunger that made her stomach turn and her pussy throb in equal measure.

"You're doing very well," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he praised her efforts. "Your mouth is so tight, so eager to please me."

As his praise continued, she felt something shift within her, a strange pride swelling in her chest. Despite the fear and disgust, she found herself eager to make him happy, to satisfy his hunger. His grip on her hair tightened, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached climax.

Suddenly, just as she felt the pressure of his cock about to burst within her, he pulled out, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. The head of his cock hovered before her, the veins bulging and pulsing with the force of his impending release.

With a guttural groan, Mr. Y/N pulled back and sprayed her face with his hot, sticky cum. It hit her like a warm, wet slap, coating her cheeks, her nose, and her mouth. Winter's eyes widened with shock, but she couldn't help the way her tongue darted out to catch a rogue drop that had landed on her bottom lip.

He watched her, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror, as he painted her face with his seed. She felt a mix of revulsion and arousal, a confusing cocktail that left her trembling and breathless. When he was done, he leaned in, his cock still semi-hard and glistening with the remnants of his release.

"Look at yourself," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Look at what you've become."

Winter stared at her reflection, her eyes red-rimmed and her face a mess of cum. She had never felt so exposed, so utterly owned. And yet, there was something undeniably erotic about it, something that had her body begging for more.

"Now, get on all fours," Mr. Y/N ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

With trembling legs, she complied, her knees hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud. The coldness of the room was a stark contrast to the heat between her legs, her pussy aching for his touch. As she positioned herself, she couldn't help but feel like a creature at his mercy, a pet awaiting its master's command.

He climbed off the bed, his eyes never leaving her. She watched in the mirror as he walked over to a nearby dresser, his erection still at half-mast. He opened a drawer, the sound of leather and metal clinking together reaching her ears. Her heart raced, her breathing shallow and fast as she waited for what was to come.

When he turned back to her, he was holding a riding crop. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of fear and excitement through her. "You're going to learn to be a good girl," he said, his voice a dark promise. "And this will help."

He approached the bed, the crop swishing through the air as he walked. "Spread your legs," he instructed, his eyes cold and calculating.

Winter did as she was told, her thighs parting to expose her wet pussy. She felt vulnerable, like prey caught in the sights of a predator. He stepped closer, the scent of leather and his cologne wrapping around her like a noose.

He trailed the tip of the crop along her spine, the sensation sending goosebumps racing across her skin. She couldn't help but arch her back, presenting herself to him like the whore she had become.

Without warning, the crop came down hard on her ass, the sting making her yelp. The pain was a shock, a bolt of lightning that sent her senses reeling. But it was quickly followed by a pulse of pleasure that had her pussy clenching around nothing.

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched her squirm. "Again," he said, the crop rising and falling with a sickening thwack.

Winter bit her lip, the pain turning to fire as he struck her again and again. But with every blow, the heat grew, the flames of desire licking at her core until she was a writhing mess of need and desperation.

"Fuck," she panted, her voice high and tight. "It's too big. It won't fit."

Mr. Y/N chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "Don't worry," he said, his voice a dark whisper. "We'll make it fit."

He set the crop aside, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached down and stroked her swollen clit. The pleasure was instant, a spark that ignited the bonfire of her lust. He circled the sensitive nub with his thumb, watching her reactions with a clinical interest.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body trembling as she moaned, her pussy clenching and unclenching in anticipation. He took his time, building the fire until she was begging for release, her hips bucking back towards his hand.

And then, without warning, he stopped, his cock nudging at her entrance. It was a blunt, thick presence that made her gasp.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Winter nodded, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew this was the moment she had been dreading, the moment she would be truly claimed.

Mr. Y/N gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pushed forward. She felt the tip of his cock breach her, the pressure almost unbearable.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "Take a deep breath and push back."

With a whimper, she did as she was told, feeling the head of his cock pop inside her. The pain was like a knife, stealing her breath and making her eyes water. But she didn't stop, didn't pull away, driven by a need she didn't fully understand.

He pushed further, inch by torturous inch, until she was stretched to the limit. Her muscles protested, her pussy screaming for relief. But the pain was mixed with a pleasure so intense it was almost indistinguishable.

"Please," she gasped, her voice a desperate plea. "I can't..."

But he was relentless, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "You can," he said, his voice a harsh command. "You will."

And with one final, brutal thrust, he seated himself fully inside her, his balls slapping against her ass. She felt like she was being split in two, the agony and ecstasy blending into one overwhelming wave that crashed over her.

Mr. Y/N didn't give her time to adjust, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that sent shockwaves through her body. The pain grew with every thrust, but so did the pleasure, a twisted dance that had her moaning his name.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. "So perfect."

Winter's eyes widened in the mirror, the pain of his entry like a brand seared into her very soul. She had never felt so full, so stretched, so... violated. But even as the agony tore through her, she felt her pussy clench around him, her body's natural response to the intrusion.

"Fuck, Mr. Y/N," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Call me 'Master'. It's what you're here for."

The word was like a slap across the face, the reality of her situation hitting her with the force of a freight train. She was no longer Winter, the beloved idol. She was a sex toy, a plaything for this monster.

"M-Master," she corrected, her voice shaking.

His thrusts grew more forceful, his cock pounding into her like a hammer against an anvil. Each stroke sent a fresh wave of pain through her, making her scream.

"FUCKKK, MY PUSSY WAS TORN," she screamed, the pain so intense it stole her breath away.

Mr. Y/N's only response was a growl of satisfaction, his pace never faltering. She felt her insides tear, her body protesting the brutal invasion, but she knew it was too late to turn back now. She had made her deal with the devil, and she would see it through.

The room was a blur of pain and pleasure, the two intertwining until she couldn't tell one from the other. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear, anger, and a dark, twisted desire that had her panting for more.

With every thrust, she felt herself slipping further and further away from the girl she once was, her identity fading like a distant memory. But even as the pain grew, so did the thrill, the excitement of being used so completely.

Her orgasm built, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. "Master, please," she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. "I'm going to come."

Mr. Y/N chuckled, his grip on her hips tightening. "Cum for me," he ordered, his voice a dark rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Squirt for me."

Winter's eyes widened as he pulled his cock out of her, the sudden emptiness making her gasp. But she knew what he wanted, what he was waiting for. With a cry of pure abandon, she pushed back against his hand, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came.

The release was explosive, a geyser of liquid that spurted from her, soaking the bed beneath her. Her body convulsed, her muscles tightening and releasing in waves of pure pleasure. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, a powerful, primal force that seemed to consume her.

Mr. Y/N watched with a hungry gaze, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "You're a natural."

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. She had never felt so exposed, so utterly vulnerable. But she couldn't deny the thrill of his praise, the way it made her pulse race.

He slammed back into her, the sudden intrusion making her gasp. The angle was different now, the head of his cock hitting a spot deep inside her that had her toes curling with every thrust. It was like he had found a secret button, one that sent her hurtling towards the edge of oblivion.

With his free hand, Mr. Y/N reached around and slapped her ass, the sound echoing through the silent room. "Tell me," he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell me what you want. Tell me how it feels."

Winter's eyes rolled back in her head, her mind a haze of pain and pleasure. "I want... I want it all," she moaned, the words spilling from her lips like a confession. "I want you to use me, to fill me up."

He slapped her again, the sting making her pussy clench around him. "And how does it feel?" he demanded.

"It feels..." she gasped, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words. "It feels like... I'm on fire. Like I'm being torn apart and put back together."

Mr. Y/N's hand came down again, the pain turning her words into a scream. "Again," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Tell me again."

"It feels amazing," she managed, her voice hoarse. "It feels like... like nothing I've ever felt before."

The slap of his hand on her ass grew more rhythmic, matching the tempo of his hips. "And do you want more?" he asked, his voice a low, dark rumble.

Winter could feel the orgasm building, a pressure that threatened to consume her. "Yes," she panted. "More, Master. Please."

With a smirk, he reached between her legs, his thumb finding her clit. He began to rub in tight circles, the added sensation pushing her closer to the brink. "Beg for it," he said, his voice a command.

"Please," she whispered, the word a desperate plea. "Please, I need it."

He increased his pace, the friction of his thumb driving her wild. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me what you need."

"I need your cock," she gasped, her voice a needy whine. "I need you to fuck me, to make me squirt again."

The words were like a trigger, and she felt it building, the pressure growing until she couldn't hold it back any longer. With a scream, she came again, her pussy pulsing around him as he continued to pound into her.

Mr. Y/N's breath grew ragged, his own release close. He pulled out, the wet sound making her whimper. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice strained.

Winter managed to lift her head, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Master," she whispered, her voice shaking.

He stroked himself, his hand a blur as he worked his cock. "Tell me," he said, his voice tight with need. "Tell me how much you want it."

"I want it," she moaned, her pussy still clenching in the aftermath of her climax. "I want it all."

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly, the sound a stark contrast to the desperation in her voice. He positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance once more, watching her with a hunger that seemed to consume him. "You're going to take it," he said, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "You're going to take it all."

With one powerful thrust, he was back inside her, filling her completely. Winter's eyes rolled back in her head, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. She could feel herself stretching around him, her body trying to accommodate his massive size.

"Fuck," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea. "It's too much."

Mr. Y/N leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he began to fuck her with a ferocity that stole her breath. "Is it?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Is it really too much?"

Winter's eyes met his in the mirror, the need in his gaze reflecting the tumult of emotions churning within her. "No," she gasped, the word torn from her lips. "It's... it's not enough."

The room was filled with the slap of skin against skin, the sound of their ragged breathing. Her moans grew louder, the pleasure building like a storm within her. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by another person.

With every stroke, she felt herself slipping further and further into darkness, into a world where pleasure and pain were one and the same. She had never been so lost, so utterly at the mercy of another.

Mr. Y/N's hand came down on her ass again, the pain making her jolt. "You're mine," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You're mine to use, to break, to build back up again."

Winter's body responded to his words, her pussy clenching around him like a vise. "Yes," she whispered, her voice a ragged confession. "I'm yours."

He slammed into her, the force of his thrusts making the bed shake beneath them. "Good girl," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Such a good, obedient little slut."

Winter's eyes squeezed shut, the sting of his words only adding to the whirlwind of sensation. She didn't want to be a slut, didn't want to be used like this, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his commands. Her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building with every brutal penetration.

"Yeah," she panted, her voice a desperate plea. "Keep fucking me, Master. Make me forget."

The pressure grew, a tight coil of need that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. She could feel herself slipping away, her mind a blank canvas of sensation. The pain in her ass, the fullness in her pussy, the burning in her throat from screaming his name – it was all she knew, all she was.

And then it hit her, the orgasm ripping through her like a tornado. She felt her pussy spasm around his cock, her muscles contracting in a symphony of pleasure. "Master," she screamed, her voice hoarse. "I'm cumming!"

Mr. Y/N chuckled darkly, his thrusts never slowing. "I know," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I'm going to keep fucking you until you can't think anymore."

Her vision swam, the world around her fading into a haze of ecstasy. The only thing that remained was the feeling of his cock pounding into her, the sound of his slaps echoing in her ears. She was lost, adrift in a sea of pleasure that seemed to have no end.

"Cum for me," he ordered, his voice a harsh command that sent shivers down her spine. "Cum until you can't move."

Winter felt her body respond, her pussy spasming around him as she climaxed again. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a never-ending wave that crashed over her again and again. She didn't know how much more she could take, didn't know if she would survive this.

But even as she thought it, she felt the need building once more, the hunger growing insatiable. She was a creature of pure instinct, a living embodiment of lust.

With a final, brutal thrust, Mr. Y/N released his hold on her, his cum flooding her insides. She felt herself contract around him, her orgasm milking him for every last drop. It was a powerful, primal feeling that left her trembling and exhausted.

As he pulled out of her, she collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and spent. The only sound in the room was their harsh breathing, a testament to the intensity of what had just transpired.

[jjjjisun]

Karina’s Temptation

AESPA Karina X Male OC | 14283 words

TW: Incest

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‘You can’t choose your family’ is a phrase that means different things to many people. For some, it’s good, and for others, it’s bad, and for Jae, it was a bit of both, especially when it came to his daughter.

There was simply no helping that at 18, Karina had the body that most women and men, for that matter, only dreamed about. Jae didn’t know her exact measurements, but Karina’s mother always said, 'The girl has the smallest waist she’s ever seen, and a bigger chest and hips than almost any woman in the family. She was an hourglass, albeit an incredibly slender one.

Karina had been pegged early by a talent scout for her beauty, and to his dismay, she’d been modeling since she was 10. Some girls blossom and come out of nowhere - Karina wasn’t one of them. Jae sometimes thought she had been born to marvel at.

She was smart as hell, too - smarter than he by far. She had attitude and composure and…The list continued; he loved every little thing about her.

Except…fuck… those pictures of her… She looked like something off the front page of a magazine, but no, that wasn’t even nearly doing her justice. Looking at the recent photos that had been taken of her, Karina seemed bound to travel the world posing for years to come. And why shouldn’t she?

Still… at 18… how did she convince him to let her do this shoot? She’d worn provocative clothing before, but this black bathing suit… it just wasn’t fair. The thing was hardly anything more revealing than an average bathing suit; Karina filled it out in a way that sent any viewer’s thoughts awry.

Jae wouldn’t have 'chosen’ anyone else to be his daughter, but he also wouldn’t have chosen to be so susceptible to the thoughts and dreams inspired by her. He’d tried to broach the subject in a way that didn’t reveal too much about how he felt. Today, he meant to stand his ground and tell her she couldn’t pose for photos like these anymore.

Of course, when he tried to do so, she was sweet as ever to him, naive as she was, and never meant to cause any harm.

“Karina, honey, this shoot is very…”

“Yes, daddy?”

“I just… baby, you’re only 18 and these photos are very revealing… and you’re my little girl!”

“Oh no, daddy… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

“I know you like modeling, and you’re so beautiful, I understand why the camera loves you. It’s just that I love you too, and I would never want anything to happen to you because people see something they want and…”

“See something they want? I didn’t mean for my photos to do that, daddy… do you think that’s how people could react?”

“I have to expect that they will, sweetheart, if only to be protective of you.”

“How do you know, though, Dad? It’s just a bathing suit! I’ve worn one around you a million times!”

Her exaggeration didn’t sound overstated to him - Karina parades a seemingly endless collection of small, perfectly-fitted suits that exhibited her body so often that Jae wondered how he could live in the same house.

Something must have clicked for Karina as she saw her dad looking bashfully at the proofs in his hands. He was almost shaking, and she felt so guilty for causing him such grief. Karina wanted to throw herself at him and smother him with an apology.

She realized what he’d been getting at before. Her daddy might have known how other people felt because…maybe… he felt that way himself.

'Something they want’ - he’d said. Karina was stunned by the revelation, but also utterly flattered by the possibility that her dad might desire her in some way. It was a strange feeling that she didn’t expect.

“Daddy… you know I don’t take these photos FOR anyone else… so that anyone else will 'want’ me like you say, right?”

“Of course I know that, sweetie, but it doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.”

Karina smiled and blushed. Little by little, an undeniable tingle worked from somewhere deep within her. Like butterflies, it started in her stomach, and she could now feel the sensation searching out, fluttering to her fingers and toes. The way he was looking at her—the way only her father could—nobody else could ever love her like that.

“How about…” Karina thought carefully, “Next time, will you be there with me for any photoshoot I do?”

His daughter caught him off guard with the suggestion. Jae’s eyes met his little 18-year-old’s and searched them for her intent.

“That way you could watch over me and be protective about the kinds of photos they’re taking of me.”

Jae had to laugh at that. Having some input on the way photographers were capturing his beautiful teenager’s perfect body and that sexy little smile of hers did sound like a bit of relief. It also sounded enticing in a way he knew he shouldn’t entertain.

“I’d like that, Karina. You sure you’d be alright with having your dad around with you dressed like that? I’m guessing you’re planning to continue modeling bikinis and such.

The words had a fatherly tone. Karina looked down at the photos and thought about the next shoot she and that photographer had discussed. Putting her finger to her lip and biting it gently, Karina met her dad’s eyes and nodded.

"Yes, daddy, maybe it would even be fun…” She said demurely.

She had felt so sexy during that photoshoot, and though she’d been nervous to show that much skin at first, now that she saw the photos, Karina looked forward to doing it again. Combined with the thought of her dad being there to see her, the tingle she’d felt earlier was turning into a full-blown buzz. Karina felt borderline woozy, looking at her dad and thinking deeply about him.

“Hey, Dad, the company I took these photos for let me keep the swimsuit. It’s so cute; I love it! Do you want to see it? I’ll put it on, and we can pretend like you were there for this shoot since you missed it!”

Her words were hasty and excited. Jae couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was getting at. Why would he agree to this? After seeing the photos, Jae would have preferred she wear nothing but a head-to-toe burlap sack to hide the beauty he’d created eighteen years ago. Why would he allow her to return to that bikini and show off again, just for him?

“Sure, sweetie, if you want to put it on!”

Jae couldn’t believe it. He’d blurted out the words before even pausing to think about it. They just slipped from his mouth, and now that they were out, he couldn’t take them back. Jae saw his daughter’s look of pure joy - a big, beaming smile that only a dad who’d done something to make his little girl positively overjoyed could know.

“Okay, just give me a minute and I’ll be right down.”

It wasn’t until Karina had entirely scampered out of the room, her hips swinging in the pajama bottoms cinched around her waist and tank top scrunched there too, that Jae felt himself take his first full breath. Oh God… as she was walking away, that little grin she flashed him while biting her lip. It was that look, the entire image of her from that smile to the little sliver of skin on the teen’s lower back, to her bare feet, practically hopping her way upstairs - that was what remained under his eyelids as he leaned back on the couch and shut his eyes.

'How did it come to this…?’ Jae thought, bewildered. He hadn’t even intended to bring up the photos, needing to gather himself before doing so. Still, it had entirely happened out of nowhere, and now his little girl was upstairs changing into the same bathing suit that had rendered him speechless before.

'Oh God, she’s up there changing, and when she comes down…shit… I need to stop this now.’

He looked down at the photo of her holding both hands over her head. She kept her beautiful blonde hair, wetted and deep gold, pulled back in interlocking fingers, and the camera drank her in from head on. The look was sweet: a long glare with her lips parted and the lightest smile on her face, one so naive to what her beauty was capable of.

She was slender and yet endowed with the most desired features. At perhaps 110 lbs, she filled out her bathing suit perfectly. Beads of water coated her skin, seeming to meander down the valley her perfect, cradled breasts created. Some way or another, he’d learned her bust was about a 32D, and it had pained him to know, given that his eyes more frequently wandered there to confirm.

The valley between Karina wonderful tits continued, past the crucial piece of string clutching each patterned triangle of black cloth together, to a continuous line down the middle of her abdomen, approaching the narrowest part of her midsection. At about the cute, inward dip of her belly button, it seemed Jae could likely hold most of her waist in both hands.

And then, across an endless stretch of skin that fell before the torturously low line of her bottom…

“Okay, Daddy, what do you think?”

His eyes came off the picture he’d been mesmerized by, finding the floor first until Karina’s graceful little feet came into view. She leaned against the doorframe and posed with one hand ruffling her hair.

Her father traced the opposite path he’d been following on the image, his eyes travelling up his daughter’s perfect, slender legs and coming to rest on her lower body where he’d just stopped short of admiring in her photo.

…ugh… the way the bottoms hugged her impressively mature hips… with that tantalizing 'v’ drawn and pulled taut below by the sleek black bottoms. If he looked any longer, Jae might risk being caught searching the gap between her thighs for an indication of what lay within.

“God, you’re pretty sweetie!” Jae uttered without thinking.

'Shit.’ he thought - maybe he should have chosen his compliments more carefully, but truth won over his fatherly obligation.

She welled up with so much pride that it burst forth from her in a room-brightening smile. Jae felt sure it was a look only he’d ever know, and as he drank in her overall figure, he wished there was more he could keep to himself.

Karina’s steps closer to him were drunk with flattery, one foot in front of another as best she could - as if she were daddy’s private model. When she got to him, she collapsed to her knees in front of him on the carpet. With her long, pretty legs wrapped around behind her, Karina propped up, so naturally and yet so seductively displaying her body for him to consume greedily with his eyes.

“So you like it then?” She asked redundantly.

Karina watched her father’s eyes glance from her, back to the photos on the table, and then back at her again. She didn’t know it then, but he was thinking just how much better the real thing was, and how impossible it seemed that such a pretty young thing as Karina could exist. With all the affection inside him, he hardly knew what about his beautiful daughter he could admit to admiring.

“I like what Karina? I like you. I don’t just like you, I love you, baby.”

Karina frowned and squinted at him - not the answer she sought.

“Do I like your swimsuit?” he asked again, knowingly. Of course I like it, sweetie, but you would look beautiful in anything, so it’s not really a fair question.“

Karina sat back on her feet, stunned physically by his words. Her eyes widened as she gazed back at her dad.

He continued, "Do I like that my daughter is 18 and looks like this?” he gestured to all of her, “and these photos are going to show other people that too?”

Karina waited fervently for his reply, still mesmerized.

“Not so much.”

She frowned momentarily, but seemed content to remember only the compliments he’d paid her. She immediately changed the subject.

“Here, I’ll show you some of the poses from those photos. The photographer said I did a really good job, and that I don’t need nearly as much direction as other girls do!”

She was excited, swaying a little left and right and fixing upon him with a look that was Karina’s signature blend of innocent and somehow incredibly sultry.

“I don’t have the wind blowing in my hair like I did, but you’ll just have to imagine it,” she said, giving her father eighteen angles to admire her.

Her body moved in ways Jae knew a father’s eyes were not meant to see. She could move her lower half independently and exhibited her prowess through several positions that further defined her beauty. Her body, her rotating hips, and the gentle transitions from pose to pose were hypnotic to the point that he had visions of what it would be like to put such incredible movements of his teenager to proper use.

“You’re a natural, honey.”

Karina giggled, “And to think, all of this came from you, right, Daddy?”

Karina had effectively arched her back and afforded her father a generous view of her youthful chest. When she brought her arms together and pushed her breasts toward each other, Jae watched in amazement as they heaved and adjusted within her top.

“I don’t know where it came from sometimes, sweetie,” he said quietly. The words were uttered with little or no consent from his distracted brain.

Did she know what she was doing? She must? Did she know what kind of thoughts she inspired by showing her body to her father so willfully? For the man who had raised her and all along studied her every want and need, he simply could not read her when it came to such a basic thing - attraction.

“Which one do you like the best, Daddy? I’ll do the pose for you!”

Karina threw her long, golden-blonde hair over her shoulder and looked at him expectantly.

'No, you can’t,’ screamed a voice in Jae’s head. Wherever it came from was far too remote, because after the last minute or two of watching his eighteen-year-old model for him, Jae’s brain refused to see the harm in a little more.

“How about this one?” he said, picking up the photo of her standing with her hands over her head and showing it to her. Karina looked satisfied.

Smiling, she focused herself and then slowly got into position. When she arrived, she looked just like in the photo—not soaking wet, but this time with only her father’s eyes there to admire her. Something about the fact that her dad had asked for her for that specific pose heightened the experience for both of them.

Before, it had been a tingle within her. Then it was a buzz. Now, Karina felt almost as if she was meandering through a dream. She’d do anything her dad asked her to… she wanted to appease his every request. Did he know what kind of control he had? Was there some line when they’d eventually reach and stop automatically because any more would be too much?

“They have a kinda coach lady that sometimes talks me through the shoot. She said my waist looks best when I put my arms up like this, but you’ve got to have the right boobs for it.”

It was an invitation to look at his baby’s chest, and Jae took it. 'Oh God, of course…’ his mind relented - her tits just hung there flawlessly. Still, they looked ample and firm.

“So… what do you think, Daddy?”

“About…” Jae asked cluelessly until, “What do I think about your…?”

He glanced down at his daughter’s chest, letting her observe where he was looking, at her request. Karina nodded.

“Karina, honey, I can’t tell my daughter what I think about her breasts, and you know that.”

The perky blonde deflated, giving her dad a frustrated glare and letting her arms fall to her sides. The topic of conversation, her breasts, shook as her posture changed.

“Oh… I didn’t think…I don’t know, you could give me constructive criticism so I can do even better next time.

Jae didn’t know whether his daughter was playing dumb, but her reasoning won him over.

"Oh, don’t give me that look, Karina…” he said, “you’re very… nicely proportioned, sweetie, so I think you look just fine in that pose.”

There was that smile again. Karina turned her demeanor back around, causing her father to doubt her conviction in the evil eye she’d so easily shed.

“There are some poses the coach told me not to do because they’d be… too provocative I think. Can I show you, and you be the judge?”

Jae merely nodded; there was nothing else to do.

“So there’s this one,” Karina narrated, flipping over and sprawling out on her back. Looking upside down at her father, she gyrated her hips around and slowly spread her legs, working her toes into the carpet when she stopped with them sufficiently apart. The sexy teen then lifted her hips off the ground, still rotating them ever so slightly.

There was no other choice but to imagine being on the other side of her, kneeling between her legs, and receiving the beautiful motion of Karina’s body. There was so much to see—the complexity of her curves, the entrancing movement of her hips, and the innocent eye contact she held with her father.

“I think it’s supposed to be a little too suggestive with like…my…” Karina glanced down to where she was holding her lower half in the air, showing her father where she meant with a wiggle, “Well, you know.”

“Yeah… I’m glad I didn’t see that in any of the pictures,” Jae admitted.

“What about now, though, it’s not as bad when it’s only for you, right, Daddy?” Karina asked.

“Sure, sweetie, I guess you’re right, as long as it’s just me.” As he said it, Jae stored a mental image of his daughter, looking up at him and waving her hips invitingly.

“I’m glad you like it. I think you’ll like this one too, then…”

Karina rolled over onto her hands and knees, sticking her butt up in the air. She arched her back first, tossing her hair and smirking at her dad. It would have been a priceless shot if he’d had a camera. But Jae was glad it was his eyes only for this private shoot. His little girl was barely clothed at all and posing just for him. He could watch her like this for hours.

Karina could feel his hungry eyes on her and saw him shift in his seat. She wasn’t an experienced girl by any means - some curious groping and kissing with boys from school - but something about her father’s composure struck her to the core. It was a feeling exponentially more exciting than the one she got posing for the camera. It was the incredibly taboo feeling of being on display for her daddy and only him.

Karina extended to her toes and fingers only on the carpet, sticking her butt as high in the air as it could go, forming a perfect triangle with the floor and stretching out for her father to see her fully. With practiced form, she brushed her nose across the threads of the carpet, rounding out her back as she did - another breathtaking motion she had perfected in her yoga class.

Except the confining sports bra—the one that usually accompanied this motion at the gym—wasn’t there. Karina was simply basking in her father’s admiring eyes and didn’t realize that as she dragged her chest across the carpet, the confines of her bikini weren’t confining enough.

As she came to a fully arched position, Jae saw, in absolute disbelief, that his daughter’s breasts were all but entirely revealed to him.

He was struck with silence.

Her nipples were pale and only slightly pinker than her skin - small circles around upright and sensitive nubs that his front teeth chattered to hold between them… They perched at the perfect apex of each soft globe, poking out at him tellingly.

Perhaps he could have fended off the attacks of her looks, pose by pose, if she had remained fully clothed, but this was too much. What amount remained? Jae stiffened fully within his pants, his disobedient manhood straining against them as his daughter’s bare breasts hung fully within his view.

Karina saw the shock on her father’s face and watched his mouth open involuntarily.

“Oh my Gosh, daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to show you my nipples!” Karina shrieked. “Jeez, I didn’t even notice, did you?”

But she needn’t have asked. Just looking at him, Karina knew he’d seen it all. The flattered 18-year-old fixed her top casually, inspired by the look in her father’s eyes.

“Only for a second, I didn’t see too much honey.”

But Karina knew beyond a doubt that he was lying. She saw the way one of his hands had snaked toward his crotch and was trying to adjust the bulge there without her noticing.

“There, all fixed,” she alerted him once she’d very slowly tucked her breasts back into the bikini.

“Here, I wanted to show you the pattern anyway; look, Daddy.”

Before Jae could protest, Karina got to her feet and approached him head-on. She put one knee down on the couch beside him and swung the other over his lap. It was an innocent gesture, not just that different from sitting on her father’s lap as she’d done many times before. But the way Karina was dressed… they were looking at each other and sizing each other up… It felt different, and both dad and daughter knew why.

Karina sat up on her knees and aligned her bikini top with her father’s eyes. She showed him the pattern on the black triangles of her top—an elegant stitchwork of flowers. One of the flowers was directly atop what he could just discern the outline of beneath, that perfect little bud he’d seen only seconds before.

“I see why you like it, baby, it’s very appealing.”

Karina settled down onto his lap and watched her father wince. She was sitting further back on his legs so she couldn’t get a great sense of the bulge he was hiding, but the further contact was enough to get a reaction from him.

“Do you think I’m appealing, though, Daddy?”

She leaned back to give her father a better view, which he took in gratefully. Karina had never seen her father inspect her in such a way before, but every second his eyes lingered, she loved it more.

“You know I’m not supposed to answer a question like that, Karina…” Jae began, “But I think I’ve already told you that you are… appealing, so do you need to ask?”

Karina looked deeply at him, “I guess not, but I like it when you say it.”

She leaned in, watching her dad’s eyes and the anticipation in them for what she’d do next. The young blonde aligned with his ear and told him softly, “I love you, daddy,” before kissing him on the cheek.

As her breath brushed across his ear and her lips fell on the tingling side of his face, something happened. Karina slid further into her father’s lap, and his hands were helping her.

His teenage daughter let out a sigh. Karina felt that the increased contact below, however incidental, meant something serious. Of their own volition, Jae’s fingers encircled his baby’s waist and slipped down to the small pair of black bottoms stretched taut around her.

Neither Karina nor her father could have said how long they stayed like that. Furthermore, it was unclear which was causing Karina’s lower body to rise and fall just beyond imperceptibly atop her father’s lap.

It was that motion again, just like he’d seen as his daughter did the fateful posing at his feet not minutes ago. Oh God, he could feel it generating beneath his palms… rotating, ensnaring desire slowly building for his baby girl.

When Karina’s breath began to get rhythmically heavier, to the point that he could match it to the up-and-down motion of her hips, Jae panicked. His cock had been throbbing against her, in sync with his young daughter and telling her… telling them both that what she was playing at was entirely possible.

But it wasn’t. This was wrong; he’d let it come too far and fast.

He lifted his hands off slowly, not wanting to alarm his daughter but feeling the forbidden warmth of her skin leave them, like it should have.

Karina reacted impulsively, immediately prohibiting the retreat of his hands with her own and putting them back together on her hips. As they returned, Karina boldly allowed herself to settle deeper into her father’s lap, pressuring his straining member more deliberately. With a sigh that approached moaning, Karina leaned against her father.

“Sweetie, maybe you should get off…” he warned.

Oh God, that was a wrong choice of words, and Karina took them as she wanted.

Karina cooed again, responding, “uh-huh,” with another kiss near his ear and an urge from her hips. They both knew what he’d meant, but when Jae felt the subtle shake of his daughter’s body, he knew she was giggling about his accidental pun.

The smirk he cracked and the mutual humor they shared were disarming. Karina didn’t want to stop, and she’d take any interpretation to stay on her daddy’s lap just like she was. Jae felt the moment when he could have turned things around slip away as Karina broke the silence.

“Is this what you were talking about before, daddy… what my photos might make people want to do?”

“Something like this, honey, but of all people, I didn’t mean me!”

She leaned back far enough to touch her forehead against her father’s.

“Why, don’t you think it’s better you than some random guy?”

“Well, yes, but I was talking about things a father and a daughter are not allowed to do.”

“What? You’re only touching my hips… I don’t mind. Do you mean something else?”

Karina was writhing her hips quite obviously, disguising it by being her usual, spunky self and smiling at him like everything was normal. Jae’s fingers felt more daringly up his daughter’s slender sides, approaching the waist he’d imagined wrapping them around. It didn’t seem possible that such soft, smooth perfection could be achieved in the curve that his palms traced, or that it could belong to his daughter.

“What else did you mean, Daddy? I’m really…really…curious.” The naughty teenager wiggled her hips about to punctuate each word, teasing her father mercilessly.

Jae was speechless at the tenacity of his eighteen-year-old. Once again, she put her hands over his, feeling them clasped at her waist. They both looked momentarily at the tell-tale bulge Karina was relentlessly pushing against. Each passionate word she spoke seemed to erode the forbidden wall between them, leaving only the clothing that separated one act from a far more meaningful one.

“Are you allowed to do this at least?” Karina asked, urging his hands to climb higher. The bumps of her ribcage meandered against his palms as Jae let his little blonde lead.

With a deep breath and the disbelief of her father, Karina quickly covered each of her breasts with his hands. They sat motionless but for the swelling of her lungs while the two contemplated the touch.

“Not,” Jae said sternly.

But he didn’t move his hands. Even when Karina removed hers to put them behind her back and slowly stick out her chest into her father’s grasp, his touch remained. Karina breathed sweetly with relief.

“Mnhhhh…” he heard her utter, “I can’t imagine why, it’s only touching… who says we can’t do that?

Absurd logic… and he knew it, but his hands were already there, and Jae had been longing to feel his daughter’s beautiful breasts since Karina had first developed them. God, they were amazing… his fingers carefully sought to detail them fully. Each mound sat proudly in his cradling grasp, more than filling it out and quivering when he massaged them.

Karina moaned without pretense. She felt her dad’s palms rub the fabric of her bra against her nipples. They screamed with sensation, and she reveled at the position in her father’s lap she’d achieved. The teen smiled widely as she saw how much her father enjoyed playing with her. His approval was all she ever wanted.

"I think you might like them better without my top on, Daddy,” she cooed sweetly.

Allowing her instincts to act on her behalf, Karina reached around and swiftly untied her bikini from behind before her father could even consider stopping her. Nobody had ever seen or touched her without a top, and as she felt the tension release from its grasp, the beautiful teen was ecstatic that the first would be her father.

He surprised her. He recognized that feeling up his teenage daughter was hardly different with or without her clothes on, so he helped her pull the bikini up and over her head smoothly.

Her breasts barely drooped, sitting up proudly and youthfully as only an eighteen-year-old can. Never, not on her mother or any of the other women before her, had he ever seen a more beautiful chest.

“So… do you like them better this way, Daddy? Or should I put my top back on because we’re not allowed?”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure yet, I’ll feel them and decide.

Karina grinned at her cheeky dad, raising her eyebrows and glancing down to ask him what he was waiting for.

His palms returned, and this time the pretty blonde whimpered louder at the direct contact to her nipples. The way he touched her… how he massaged and then gently took each nub in between his fingers with a deliberate squeeze… Her whole body seized briefly, throwing her head back and its shower of golden hair with it. As he pinched her, Jae allowed the two of them to press together firmly at the hips… two intense points of contact and an ocean of expectation between.

"Much better this way, sweetie. This feels good, I’m guessing?” He asked, gently pinching and tugging at her again.

Karina rewarded him with multiple, wonderful gyrations of her hips, “uh huh, I like it better this way too.” She let him touch her for a few more seconds, watching his eyes roam her body as she thought about where they might be headed.

“Daddy…” she whispered, bringing her eyes back to his, “show me what else my photos make you want… please… anything.”

Her eyes welled with desperation and desire. She was hardly old enough to know all that could come of an attraction as strong as theirs, but Jae wondered if he wasn’t willing to show her 'anything’ and everything.

“Karina… baby… do you know what you’re doing to me?”

She knew. She nodded almost immediately, pressing into him and telling her father she needed his guidance.

“I think so, daddy,” she cooed, reaching down between them and running her fingers over his jeans in just the right spot, “but what are you going to do to me?”

Jae had nothing left. No guilt or apprehension, no fear of taking advantage of his little girl. He drank her in one last time, observed the readied look of confidence she was trying so hard to maintain, and made his decision.

“Well, first we better get you out of these,” he said, reluctantly leaving her breasts to the cool air, and placing both thumbs beneath the tiny waistband of the remaining piece of her bikini.

“Mnnnhh…that’s what you want? That’s naughty, don’t you think, Daddy?” she said, teasing him but giving no sign of resistance as she felt her dad press his thumbs into the sensitive and soft skin just below the top of her panties.

Jae lay her backward onto the couch, and the two of them worked together to get Karina fully naked. She wiggled back and forth, helping her father tug the last tiny black piece of modesty down her long, slender legs.

When it was done, the teenager watched her appearance stun her dad for a few seconds. What he did see, between his daughter’s legs, was the prettiest, tiniest pussy he could imagine. The prize he’d uncovered was just the peek of her lips and the pink hue of that soft, shaven skin between her smooth thighs.

“Karina, honey…” he started, causing her to wait for his every word. You just keep getting more beautiful.“

Again, a jolt of excitement wracked her body as she heard her own father comment directly on a place he was certainly forbidden to admire. And if that wasn’t bad enough, what he also saw there was that his naughty little girl was quite visibly shiny and wet all around her perfect, teenage mound.

"Daddy, it’s not fair. You got me totally naked, and you’re still wearing all your clothes.”

She was right, it wasn’t fair.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart, do you want to help me out of mine then?”

Karina nodded enthusiastically and sat back up on the couch. Her dad easily removed his shirt, and while he did, his daughter was at his belt. She saw the way his pants were swelling along the path of what was within, but she’d never seen one up close. How big could it be? It was so long, almost to his waistband.

She took an extra few seconds to navigate the unfamiliar territory of his belt buckle and button, but when she had it, she pulled his pants apart eagerly.

When the two of them finally tugged at the waistband of both his pants and underwear, Karina got a view of what she’d been waiting for. Her father had seen her most intimately, and now what he’d been holding back sprang out from his pants and bobbed fatefully in front of her.

Karina gasped, marveling at his size and wondering what in God’s name he was planning to do with such a big cock.

“Daddy, oh my god… I’ve never seen one before… they can’t all be this big, right?”

“No, I guess not, sweetie. And that’s a very nice compliment to tell a man by the way.”

“What? That my daddy’s penis huge?” Karina tried to keep a straight face, but her feigned innocence broke out into a grin as she acknowledged how naughty her words were.

“Can I please touch it? I don’t even think it will fit in my hands!”

Jae gave her the same look she’d given him before, indicating for her to proceed.

It was his turn to groan this time, for Karina wasted little time encircling fingers around him with both hands. She was right; he looked bigger than ever in her sweet little grasp. Karina looked up at her father as she took hold of him, smiling at the obvious pleasure she was causing.

Her father was so hard and so aroused that his cock was throbbing, and the fact was not lost on the young teen. In her learning hands, she felt his shaft swell, and a clear liquid emitted from the very tip. She quickly touched it with her thumb, rubbing it around his already glossy head, not knowing just how sensitive and intense that would feel to him.

His head rolled around, catching a glimpse of the photos scattered haphazardly about. Jae would never be able to recount perfectly how he’d gone from the forbidden and unspoken dreams they inspired to that moment. But as his daughter spoke her curious words and explored him excitedly, he knew he could never regret what was about to happen.

“What’s this, Daddy? I can feel your cock pulsing in my hands… and it’s leaking out at the tip!”

“Unhghhh… honey… that’s pre-cum, and it only happens when your dad is really… turned on.”

Karina seemed to like that answer, and she repaid him by slowly working her two hands back and forth on his shaft.

“Does that mean I’m doing a good job, Dad? Or should I stop because we’re not allowed?”

The little tease! Her father could see the smirk on her face, and he wanted her all the more because of it. He loved everything about his little girl - her wit, rebelliousness, charm… and today he’d been given a chance to love her physically as well. He wasn’t about to waste it.

“No, it’s okay, Karina, I won’t stop you.”

Again, she was quite satisfied with her effect on him. The blonde’s hands worked more steadily over his wide member, and precum eked continuously from him. His naked little girl was doing a much better job than he’d expected to pleasure her father, and she’d been touching him for mere seconds.

Like she so commonly did, Karina took her dad by surprise, craning forward when he’d shut his eyes and keeping her hands on him while she added a new sensation to her stroking. The warm, wet embrace of his daughter’s lips and the shocking lap of her tongue encircled his tip without warning.

Jae looked down at his offspring, and she kept staring up at him the whole time. She sucked at her daddy’s head; showing him she meant to discover what the clear liquid that had been there tasted like.

He couldn’t take more than a few seconds of that. Unlike any other girl he’d been with in his life, his beautiful 18-year-old had him seemingly seconds from orgasm, and she’d only just begun.

Jae reached down to stop her, “ugh… fuck… wait sweetie… you have to stop,” he said, pushing her back and stilling her hands. Karina watched as her father breathed hastily and closed his eyes. She’d never seen a man so overcome like that.

“Daddy… were you going to cum because of me?”

Still, her father only breathed and managed to look at her.

“You were, weren’t you? It would have been okay, Daddy, I wouldn’t have minded, even if you did it on me.”

A few seconds more and he would have - all over her. The way she was perched, Jae could just imagine white streaks of his semen painting her masterpiece of a body. But with no holds barred, Jae had a much better plan.

“Yes, Karina, looking at you the way I have been, and then how you touched me… you almost made me cum right on those beautiful tits of yours.”

Karina looked down and bit her lip, obviously thinking she’d like that very much.

“I want to take my time with you, sweetie. I want to spend hours showing you every way I know to have sex… and I will…but…”

He had her attention; she stayed perched and waiting for him to go on.

“But right no,w Karina, I want to do the thing we’re definitely not allowed to do.”

Karina blushed as he called her by that name he reserved only for the most special occasions, and it seemed he had saved it for the most significant one. She looked at his erect cock, how it stood there waiting for what would come next and considered what he’d just proposed.

'The thing they were definitely not allowed to do… oh god,’ she thought with a shiver. She’d never entered such territory before, but somehow every part of her was begging to.

“You want to fuck me… now daddy?”

They stared at each other while Jae worked up the gall to admit such incestuous desires to his own daughter.

“I do, baby, but only if you want me to.”

Karina let the moment linger, pondering everything and nothing simultaneously. She knew there was no way she would stop them now, but this was perhaps the most significant moment of her life, and it felt that way.

She nodded, slowly but surely.

“I want you to fuck me too…”

Jae put his finger beneath her chin and pulled her up to kiss him. For the first time, they joined in a kiss that would precede the forbidden act they were both desperately awaiting. Once again, Karina felt passion in that kiss she’d never known possible. Her tongue and his acted as though entwined both genetically and enduringly. When they broke, Karina’s worries were being cradled away, similar to how her father lovingly lowered her to the couch beneath him.

His eyes roamed over her entire body, from her alluring blonde hair, to her youthful breasts, to her long, little legs rubbing together with her feet fidgeting nervously below.

“Daddy, I’m a virgin… You know that, right?”

“Another wonderful thing for a father to hear…” Jae smiled, “Does that make you worried about having sex with me, sweetie?”

“No, I know you’ll be good to me… It’s just…” Karina looked down, widening her eyes as she fixed on her target.

Her father caught her meaning and knew that, however ready she was for him, her tiny frame was still going to need to adjust to having him inside her, and that might cause her pain.

“I know it looks bi,g sweetie.”

“Big!” Karina retorted, “It looks like you could split me in half!”

She was only half-joking, but both Jae and his daughter chuckled once more.

“Do you really think it will fit?” she asked nervously.

Jae eyed her understandingly, “I know you’re my little girl, but your pussy is made to stretch just enough sweetie,” he reassured, “and I made you, so I’m betting we’ll fit together very well Karina.”

She smiled, tickled at the thought. Soon, something ever so close to her opening was tickling her, or rather tapping her impatiently.

Karina shook with surprise. To feel her father’s penis touch her so close… only a little closer and she might have thought it incest. 'Oh my God…we’re doing this…’ she thought.

As he came closer to her, Karina and her father felt his cock lay against her abdomen. Seeing it like that, swollen and throbbing with his heartbeat, Karina’s body quaked at the thought of what it was going to feel like. His cock looked even bigger when she considered that the distance it traveled up her belly button would be about how far it would be inside of her. She couldn’t help finding it appreciative with her hand.

“But there’s one other thing, Daddy…” Karina began; her hand seemed to be feeling her daddy’s cock, searching for something, “you aren’t wearing a condom.”

Oh… yeah… There was that.

“Honey… I haven’t needed those since not long after we had you… So I don’t have any.”

“Well, neither do I, you’re about to be my first, remember?”

“It’s okay, Karina, we can have sex without one, you’re mother told me a while ago she was going to put you on birth control. You are now right?”

“Mnhh… daddy, that’s not fair…” she chastised him as he taunted her with further pressure of his shaft against her tiny mound, “I am on the pill, but my health teacher said you should always use a condom.”

Jae drove against her again, and felt his member wetted as he slid against his daughter’s readied pussy.

“That’s very good that you always practice safe sex, Karina, but I’m your father, so having sex with me is far safer than with boys you don’t know.”

“Are you just saying that because you want to fuck me so bad daddy?”

“No, I’m just saying this ONE exception would be okay. You can have sex with me without a condom, but only with me.”

He knew that rule was ridiculous, but so was the fact that Jae was reasoning with his daughter, rubbing steadily between her soaked little lips. He’d taken hold of his cock and was playing closer and closer to her entrance. A few times, even Karina realized just how near her daddy was to taking a slightly different angle and penetrating her.

Her father’s 'exception’ was a bit self-serving, and Karina knew it. She looked doubtfully at him, making Jae worried she might want them to stop. The writhing teenager furrowed her brow as she tried to keep her wits about her with the stimulation her dad was causing below.

“I’ll stop in a heartbeat if you want me to,” he prodded, waiting a few torturous seconds for his daughter to decide.

“No, don’t stop, Daddy. It’s okay; you don’t need to use a condom.”

Jae sighed in relief as Karina lifted her hips up just enough to let her father know she was ready for him. From the teasing and grinding they were doing, she and her father glistened with clear streaks across their skin. The eighteen-year-old could once again see pre-ejaculate gathered copiously at his tip, thereafter watching it directed expertly against her opening, right where her father wanted it.

“Honey, you know I love you, right? You can call this whole thing off right no,w and it wouldn’t be incest.”

The forbidden word made her shiver with excitement. It was sweet of him to give her every opportunity to be in control of what they committed, but Karina held her father’s gaze, knowing how important her next words were.

“I love you, too, Daddy. I’m ready for you.”

With her permission, Jae watched her face closely, took a deep breath, and inserted his tip past Karina’s taut pink entrance. He felt how incredibly wet she was as it slowly spread her apart. With only the tip, his baby was making plenty of noise.

“Oh god, dad…mnghhh… I can’t believe this… uhhhkeep going…”

Still he pushed forth, and Jae’s bare cock entered his young virgin’s pussy definitively for the first time. Karina turned her head and howled against the cushion, continuing to do so as her daddy gave her another inch. Past the tip, he was wider, and those few inches were just about to push inside her.

“Fuck daddy… wait…OhGoDDdd… It’s so big…”

Jae could only watch his baby cope with the first cock she’d ever felt, but he was able to be eternally grateful that it was his own.

“It won’t fit, Daddy… it won’t! It’s too big.” She grimaced and grasped at nothing on the couch when he pushed a little further.

“Shhh… relax Karina… don’t squeeze too much, it’s already halfway in.”

“Really? Ohmygod, I can’t believe you’re fucking me…ohshitt… are you sure it’s going to fit, it hurts daddy?!”

“I know it does, Karina, but I promise it will disappear. Here I’ll take it out and we can try again.”

Jae began to withdraw, but his daughter quickly reached down and grabbed the base of his cock…

“No, don’t, Daddy; I’m ready to keep trying. I want to be able to take it all… I’m made for you like you said, right?”

He loved her so deeply just then, and as Jae allowed his daughter to urge him deeper, he wondered how he could ever love someone more than her after this day.

Karina struggled and whimpered. It took a few tries to get it in, but at last her daddy came to rest inside a panting and moaning young blonde with his pelvis right against the soft mound of her pussy.

“OHHHhhhmygod… it’s so freaking deep dad…Oh, Ohfuck… is it in?”

“It is sweetie; you did such a good job.”

Jae allowed his baby to catch her breath while he simply savored the feeling of her perfect tunnel hugging him so tightly it consumed him.

“You’re so tiny and tight Karina…ohhgod… your daddy’s cock has never felt this good with anyone before sweetie.”

Karina was finally able to open her eyes all the way again and really look at her dad while he was lodged into her, as far as he could go.

“You’re really inside me, daddy… and you took my virginity…”

Jae nodded gratefully. He couldn’t help his cock swelling as he considered the reality of being his own daughter’s first.

“I’m so glad we did what we’re not allowed to dad… even if you’re fucking me without a condom” she teased.

“I guess I’m not exactly fucking you yet sweetie, this would be more like fucking you.”

He withdrew a few inches and gently slid them back in. Karina cried out, but he could see how hard she was trying to be strong for her father. He knew if he just helped her adjust a little more, he could have her moaning and bucking and begging him not to stop.

“Fuckdaddy… unhh it hurts, but it’s feeling better. Why couldn’t your cock be a little smaller?”

Jae smiled and reached around to grab her backside as he began urging into her consistently. Her perfect little asscheek conformed to his hand as he squeezed it - yet another newfound asset he looked forward to enjoying thoroughly.

Karina took a decent amount of time before her father saw the pain of adjusting to her first cock begin to melt away. It was replaced by a fire in her eyes, a desperation that said she wasn’t sure what sex was all about but wanted so badly for her daddy to teach her.

“Ohjeez…God it feels good daddy…unhhh… it’s so far inside me, I feel like you’re filling me all the way up.”

The way she talked to him, that sweet voice speaking words of incest and lust… it was doing things inside Jae’s brain he’d never encountered before. He felt his daughter’s body against him and could sense, simply from the touch of her skin, all of the features he’d been admiring for years. He kissed her, surprising her with the contact but quickly leading to a full-on make-out session while they came together at the hips.

“Oh sweetie… ughh… I’m the luckiest dad in the world… god, you feel so good.”

Like she was made for it, Karina widened her legs little by little, and her father fucked her more thoroughly. Remembering the first time he was atop her, thrusting away with her legs spread apart and her cries of “daddy” filling the room around them, was a memory that could get him hard in an instant for many years to come.

But for now, as his little girl wrapped her legs around him and took his thrusts so well it made him proud, Karina and her father got utterly lost in each other. Kissing… breathing…groping… they let everything in their lives fall away but for each other - locked together in an incestuous coupling that seemed to conquer all.

And in that coupling, with Jae’s hips thudding against his daughter in breast-shaking and powerful motions, both of them forgot themselves.

With little warning, Jae felt the unstoppable sensation of a shockwave coming from deep within him. He was beyond thinking of changing course. Karina, too, hadn’t even considered that there was still some ability to be safer, even if her daddy wasn’t wearing a condom.

“Oh God, your dad’s gonna… oh Karina…” Jae breathed as his hips connected with her over and over. He felt the teenager’s feet gently urging him from behind - her whole body was clasping around him and begging him to continue. He rolled his hips just right, sliding inside Karina’s pussy while pressuring her clit as well.

“Daddy… I feel…unhhh… light-headed…ohmygod… keep fucking me like that.”

There was no accounting for time when Karina’s father might have chosen to pull out of her and perhaps spray his load across her bare, beautiful abdomen. Instead of that, he felt it well up from within and shoot directly inside her before he even knew what hit him.

Karina, pleasured into the next universe as she was, didn’t realize what was happening until a bolt of warmth filled her even more deeply than she’d felt the very tip of her father’s cock. He had buried into her and something more copious than the pre-cum was spurting out into her teenage pussy.

“Daddy… oh my god… I can feel…oh…oh… fuck daddYYEEE…” She wasn’t prepared for it. She wasn’t ready for any of it, and the quickly escalating climax that Karina had been feeling was suddenly upon her right as she thought a second spray of her father’s sperm inside her.

Jae bucked as he and his little girl clutched each other tightly. She was digging her nails into his back and her pussy seemed to spasm in rhythm with the spurting of semen from his tip. Her cries and the way she needed him so badly were beyond Jae’s ability to describe or comprehend.

They hadn’t discussed whether it would be okay for Karina’s father to unleash a load of life-giving sperm inside her, let alone one so plentiful it could only be meant for his eighteen-year-old daughter. Karina felt her father swell considerably with each pump of his spunk.

After their clamoring and moaning against each other’s lips, the two were silent but for periodic gasps and whimpers. At the same time, they experienced their first orgasm together and then recovered from it. The build-up had been short, but neither Karina nor her father could imagine waiting any longer for the release, which had found them perfectly in sync.

“Daddy, that was… that was…” but even the rambunctious blonde was short on words.

Karina had tried to speak before her breath returned to her.

When it did, she managed to ask, “Is THAT what my pictures made you want to do to me?”

Jae laughed aloud, wincing as the shake made his cock adjust slightly, still buried in his daughter’s pussy.

“To be honest, sweetie, that’s just the start. And it wasn’t your pictures, baby, it was you.”

Karina’s eyes widened, and she broke out a beautiful smile, which he was relieved to see given the circumstances.

“You didn’t say you were going to cum in my pussy daddy…”

“I know, sweetheart… You just felt so good, I didn’t realize I was doing it until…”

“Shh…” Karina stopped him with a finger to his lips, “it’s okay, when I felt your sperm in me it made me cum so hard too daddy… I liked it.”

Karina pecked her father on the lips before continuing to praise him,

“God, I never thought… I didn’t know I could cum like that… it was much different than when I… you know… masturbate.” the teenager admitted.

Jae found it adorable that she would be bashful in the absurd and forbidden situation for which they were both very much responsible.

“I’m glad you liked it baby, because I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard either, your pussy is perfect, Karina.”

“I think you came… like… a lot, daddy. I can feel it everywhere in me.”

The two of them looked down where Jae was still sunk into his daughter’s pussy. Ever so slightly, her abdomen was mounded along the path of her dad inside her, and they both focused on how incredible it was to feel the very sperm that had made her, along with the cock it came from, now definitively within her eighteen-year-old quim.

“Can I look, Daddy? Will you take it out?”

Not wanting to comply, but also hoping to see his excited daughter appeased, Jae slowly withdrew his cock from her. It seemed to take forever to slide out, but when it did Karina’s young pussy attempted immediately to return to its original tightness.

As Karina’s lips pursed back together, they saw the result of their lovemaking peeking out. Where at first, it was just a bead of thick white; soon an entire glob of semen was emitted, joined quickly by a second flowing from right from Karina’s tiny quim.

“Oh… my… god. Daddy, is that all your sperm?”

“Yes, sweetie, looks like I’ve made quite a mess of you, huh?”

Seeing that look of pure wonder in his daughter’s eyes while she watched his spunk drip out, Jae wondered when he’d wake up from the dream that had been that afternoon with Karina.

The only thing to stop it was a quick motion of her dad, who planted his tip safely below and let the cum coat him as it leaked from his daughter.

“Those could all be my brothers and sisters… technically… right, Daddy? If I didn’t start taking birth control on Monday.”

The naughty little thing, she was rubbing it in…wait…"WHAT?“

"What daddy, I asked if your cum is technically my brothers and sis…”

“No, the other thing, what did you say about your birth control?”

“Oh, that it’s a good thing I started taking birth control on Monday, although I don’t think mom knew when we went to the doctor that I’d be getting it for you!”

Karina saw an alarm in his eyes.

“What is it, Daddy?”

“Karina, I know you always say that I don’t know enough about girl-problems, but…”

He looked down at the cum-coated opening of his daughter’s pussy, at her glistening body and the little smile that she still couldn’t seem to shake, and reluctantly told her the truth.

“Sweetie, birth control takes a few weeks to start working. Didn’t they tell you that when you were there with your mother?”

“Well, yes, maybe, but I was mad at her dragging me there because of ONE boy who she thought I was hooking up with. I wasn’t really listening very closely because I thought it was stupid.”

The reality set in. Karina had been on birth control for a total of two days - far from enough to be having unprotected sex AND taking such a copious infusion as what he’d given her. So he’d just filled his own daughter with an incredible amount of sperm, and the only safe assumption was that she was entirely vulnerable to becoming pregnant.

Karina looked worried… “I didn’t know daddy… I’m sorry… ohgod, and I’m right in the riskiest part of my cycle, I think.”

“Hey hey hey,” Jae quickly consoled her, not wanting to let her go into a panic, “don’t worry at all, sweetie, there are a lot of things we can do. Remember, it’s much safer to have sex with me… because I will always take care of you.”

“You promise… I just… they tell you all these horror stories about getting pregnant and stuff…”

Jae had to chuckle: “I remember those videos—they’re probably still showing you kids the same ones from when I went to school.”

Karina seemed to be looking for something more comforting than that.

“How many of those videos talked about girls having sex with their fathers? Huh?”

Of course they didn’t, and Karina squinted speculatively at him.

“None of them, I guess…”

“Exactly, so let me take care of you then, okay, honey, just trust me?”

Karina smiled, “I do trust you, Daddy.”

This whole time, Jae had noticed his cock’s refusal to soften. As soon as his daughter’s vulnerability entered the mix, he stiffened.

Karina noticed too. “Does your cock stay hard like that for long daddy?”

She reached down to it, feeling its sticky coating on her fingers as they wrapped around his shaft.

“It usually doesn’t do this, baby, it just means I’m still aroused and I still want to have sex with you…”

The revelation stunned her. She was now filled with the incestuous and incredibly risky sperm of her father, and he seemed ready to repeat the very act that could lead to her becoming pregnant with the child of her own father.

“But we can't… not again… right, daddy?”

Jae seemed to consider this seriously. For starters, he had only taken his baby girl in one ofthe many positions he intended to show her for her first time. Secondly, he’d so rarely had the opportunity to go again immediately, and the hard cock she now held in her hand seemed to be daring him to.

“Actually, sweetie, I’m not sure it would be any riskier than what we’ve already done…”

Karina didn’t seem to follow.

“I think we can both agree that all of this,” he motioned, wiggling his tip around the teen’s entrance and disturbing the pool of cum that had settled there, “is about as big as our risk is going to get.”

Again, that puppy-dog look of expectation that she wore so well flashed across her face.

“So… you’d fuck me again even though you know you could get me pregnant?”

“In a heartbeat,” Jae admitted proudly.

“Oh God… that would be naughty, Dad… bad of us.”

But Karina seemed to be simply talking to herself. She continued holding onto her father’s shaft like a comforting toy she needed to hold to feel safe. She stroked it instinctively while her father watched the wheels turning in her head.

“Would you cum inside me again too daddy?”

“I could… if you wanted me to.”

“Unhhh…” Karina cooed. He hadn’t even touched her, but the teen’s body quivered nonetheless. “Oh God… I can’t believe I’m considering this…”

Karina sat up to meet her father and lingered close before kissing him. Somehow, magically between them, Karina had managed to get ahead of her father, and as their tongues met each other’s, Jae’s cum-slathered tip found his daughter’s opening once more.

He leaned back on the chair, letting Karina follow and allowing her to guide just how far inside her she would allow his cock on this second round. Feeling what a sticky mess it was between them, both Karina and her daddy were immensely turned on by the copious remainder of Jae’s orgasm, easing the insertion into her. Again, her 18-year-old pussy resisted him, but an eager Karina was not deterred.

Having his daughter in his lap like this was much better than before when she was still wearing her swimsuit. Instead of moving up and down innocently as she had been, now every movement urged her father’s penis further into her impossibly tight body.

She seemed content to lift a few inches and fall back into her father’s embrace, squeezing her breasts against him each time. Jae allowed her to do exactly as she pleased, and he took the opportunity to explore her body with his hands once more.

Unhhh…dad… I love when you touch me like that…" she moaned.

Jae pawed at her like an animal, his fingers gripping all over her back, at her sides, her hips and resting finally with a handful each of her butt. He spread her cheeks gently as he gripped her.

“Karina…honey… will you do something for me?” Jae hissed.

“Of course, daddy,” she said, slowing her movements and looking into his eyes, “anything.”

“How you were moving your hips before when you were posing for me… could you…unghh… could you do that now?”

Karina thought for a second and then broke out into a gleeful smirk. She nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted.

Jae felt her bottom half begin a different routine. It started as a tiny circle that she drew around the cock that was planted firmly at its center. Then she repeated it, widening the arc and realizing that if she moved just right, she could let her daddy slide in and out of her with each rotation.

Holding her like that, Jae felt his daughter move in a completely unreasonable way; he should be forbidden. To experience it fully, Jae leaned back on the couch and directed his daughter to continue her efforts atop him.

His eyes ravaged her. He watched the entrancing motion of her hips, feeling each sensitive withdrawal and insertion back into Karina’s dripping pussy. He heard the slick, subtle sound of their junction and the incestuous fluids that were combining there. His daughter’s presence enveloped him.

“Like this, Daddy? Unghh fuck… is this what you wanted?”

“That’s exactly what I meant, baby…mnphhh… you’re doing it perfectly.”

Jae mentally noted just how majestic his daughter looked in that position while he watched her for another moment. He tried to experience each sense individually: her moans, the embrace of her young tunnel, the sight of her abdomen flexing with the effort of each gyration.

Karina put her hands on her father’s chest, leaning in to kiss him, but not failing to lift her hips up and down while she did. He moaned into her mouth, and she into his until they broke the kiss, and Karina looked intently at him as she tried to keep her hips moving.

The sight of his daughter’s tits squeezed together by her arms and thrust toward him warranted only one response. He leaned in and kissed around each nipple before taking one at a time into his mouth and sucking on them, or nibbling - whichever he preferred. Karina had no idea just how pleasurable that could be.

In a matter of seconds, Jae felt his daughter’s hips begin bucking a bit wildly. He took hold of them, knowing from the glisten of sweat on her forehead that she might weaken before the full brunt of her orgasm could consume her. With daddy’s help, that wouldn’t happen.

He lifted Karina’s backside for her while still doing his best to keep one of her nipples between his lips. His teenage daughter howled, even attempting to retreat, but he held her tight and refused to stop fucking her until she begged him.

“Daddy…ohfuck… wait… I can't… I can’t brea…unhhhh please daddy please!”

She tried to sit up on her knees as she spasmed, making it harder to thrust fully into her, but he managed. Incredibly, Jae felt wetness dripping from his daughter’s already drenched pussy as he bucked into her, knowing more stimulation would make her orgasm all the more intense.

He wore a proud smile as his little girl came for the second time, feeling her lose control of her body as she cried out and her pussy clamped almost painfully down on him. Karina was the most dangerously beautiful thing he’d ever seen in that never-ending orgasm. When it finally released its hold on her, she slumped down, panting for air and quivering uncontrollably. Jae received her in loving arms.

When she recovered enough, Karina put her palms on her father’s strong chest, feeling his muscles beneath them as she propped herself up and shook back her messy, blonde hair.

“Okay… holy crap dad…”

Jae chuckled at the first words she’d managed in minutes.

“I couldn’t breathe, and you kept holding me and fucking me and then… I think I might have blacked out, Daddy!” She hit him on the chest like it was all his fault. Perhaps it was.

“Maybe that’s all true, but something tells me you kinda liked it… at least a little bit?” he queried.

Karina growled, hitting him with a closed fist on the chest again before cracking a frustrated smile.

“Urghh… yes, I liked it, but you’re still mean.”

Karina curled to look down between them. Her little pelvis was pushed to the base of her daddy’s cock as she rested in his lap. She could see its incredible width spreading her open, and their connection was now further coated with her fluids.

“God, daddy, I’m so wet. Is sex always so messy?” she asked in a way that only an eighteen-year-old daughter could.

“Usually it’s only like this when two people are incredibly aroused, sweetie, but I’m sure that my swimmers from earlier aren’t helping.”

“Speaking of which, daddy… I thought you said you were going to cum inside me again?”

Jae’s brain buzzed to hear her so casually mention that.

“I will, sweetie, I just wasn’t ready yet.”

“Oh, you want to fuck your daughter some more?” Karina asked, moving her hips around ever so slightly to tease him, “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

“Not even close, baby, I have lots more things to show you.”

Karina bounced with youthful excitement, and despite the temptation to let her continue doing that, Jae quickly lifted him and his baby off the couch. The beautiful blonde squealed as he picked her up like it was nothing. Ohhh… and the way he managed to keep his big cock deep inside her the whole time… Karina’s body shivered at the feeling.

Jae had never had sex in such a position, nor standing in the middle of the family room. Mostly, he’d never been with such a small, pretty young thing that he could easily maneuver against him. Karina squealed again as her dad manhandled her expertly and she felt his penis sliding in and out of her.

“Mnhhh… daddy… you’re so strong,” she flattered him. He pulled her close for a tangled kiss and humped into her a few more times before moving her to the floor.

“How about you show me that pose like you were before, sweetie?”

“Which one, Daddy - on my back, or my knees?”

“Knees,” Jae stated assuredly.

“Mnhh… okay, Karina said, finally feeling her daddy’s cock pulling out of her. When it was fully revealed, a little 'puff’ of air followed, exhibiting just how tight Jae’s little girl was.

"What’s this called again, Daddy?” Karina asked as got ready once again for her handsome father to fuck her in a new position.

“It’s called doggy honey.”

She giggled. Karina knew what it was called, but couldn’t help baiting her father, “So I’m your little doggy daddy? Arf arf!”

Jae rolled his eyes - hearing that coupled with the way she was swaying her upturned ass was yet another scene he couldn’t have imagined if he tried. Karina felt her dad slowly spread her legs as he knelt between them. His hands came down in a clap on her cheeks, and the eighteen-year-old whimpered as he massaged her, spreading her little lips a few times in the process.

“Are you gonna put it back in me?” She baited him, “Your little puppy is waiting for your BIG cock to be inside her daddy.”

Karina tried to go on to make another mocking little bark, but her dad managed to turn it into a howl as he lined up with her puffy little pussy and sunk a few inches into her first. Amazingly, Karina helped him by leaning back into his thrust and meeting his pelvis with the soft cushion of her young, pert ass.

“Unhhhh… fuck… daddy it feels really big this way… jeez… did your cock grow even bigger?”

“No sweetie, your body is just a little…mphhhh… more tense this way. Try to relax.”

“It’s okay, it still feels good…ooohh arf arf… don’t worry,” Karina joked.

Jae wasn’t worried. He knew that, like every other moment with Karina, the two of them were a perfect fit. Well, her teenage pussy definitely took some convincing, but with each thrust into her from behind, Jae became more convinced that he’d brought her into this world for the very purpose they were now playing out together.

He reached forward and took one of Karina’s breasts in his hand. As they established a rhythm, Karina could see why her dad wanted her in this position. She felt vulnerable and on display for him. He had complete control of her body and all she could do was stay upright and accept his incredible cock.

He groped her needily, and Karina rewarded him with the cries that were clear, beautiful melodies to her father. The young blonde hardly even realized it until she felt her dad helping her all the way to the floor, so that her nude little body joined the carpet, tickling her skin.

Jae pushed his daughter’s legs together so she was a long, slender line on the carpet, and he straddled her with his cock still inserted in the perfect little cleft between her legs. She was softer, more accepting of his thrusts, and he could see her breasts spreading out to the sides of her body each time he came down atop her with an audible smack.

“Ohfuck daddy… this is …mnhhh… this is incredible.”

A twinge of guilt prodded him as Jae held his little girl in place, but something about her helpless little form, moaning and writhing as he impaled her from above, was incredibly arousing. He grabbed her hands and pulled them around behind her back, restraining her further.

Karina was surprised at him. It wasn’t like her father to control her like this, but that was likely the reason she could feel her body singing with pleasure. Her youthful quim leaked even more as her daddy dominated her, relentlessly sliding his cock into the small opening left between her locked thighs.

Fucking his little girl in such a way brought Jae closer than he’d planned to orgasm in no time. He finally let go of her, just when Karina and her father were both starting to feel that now-familiar buzz of sensation in their outermost extremities. He slowed his thrusts to a halt, and then reluctantly slid out of her perfect little pussy.

Jae rolled his beautiful daughter over beneath him, and marveled at the flushed smile she bore, stretching out beneath him - naked as the day she was born.

“Well, that was interesting, Daddy…you liked holding me down, didn’t you?”

“I did, baby, you were so sexy I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Karina reached out for her father’s cock one more time, holding it and shaking her head no as she gripped him appreciatively.

“No, it was really hot Dad… you almost made me cum again!”

“Me too, sweetie,” he admitted, “just a little more and I would have, but I wanted to look at your pretty face when I did.”

Karina blushed, curling up and bathing in the gaze of her loving father above her.

“How about you show me that one other naughty position, and I’ll fill up that naughty little pussy of yours with all of your brothers and sisters, like last time.”

“I can’t wait, Daddy…” Karina breathed, gracefully maneuvering a leg to either side of her father. When she spoke again, she was already lifting her hips up off the ground for her daddy like she had in her bathing suit. “I’m all yours.”

This time, her wet little pussy was pointing right at him, and Jae wasted little time sitting up on his knees and wrapping his hands around his daughter’s suspended hips. This was the very position he’d imagined joining her in before, and as his tip wavered over her warm little pussy, he was immeasurably glad to play out his fantasy.

Karina and her father both breathed in sharply as he slid into her 18-year-old pussy again. He supported his baby as she held herself up, causing her back to arch and her entrance to form the perfect angle with his invading cock. With such a display of her breathtaking, sprawled beauty, Jae knew he would not last long.

Karina flexed her body as best she could, letting her father once again build up a good tempo until he was fucking her hard enough to shake her firm breasts mightily with each sway of her body.

She was just too incredible. He thrust into her, and in all too short a time, the familiar sensation of losing control returned..

“Sweetie, I might cum soon… you’re too much for your dad.”

“Good daddy…unghhh… I’m really close too…”

He felt her doing her best to move her acrobatic hips along with his.

“Mnhh… fuck… my pussy’s all ready for your sperm daddy…”

Another thrust landed, and with it the perilous proximity of Jae’s orgasm, approaching all the faster as his daughter’s words encouraged him.

“Right in the risky part of my cycle,” she continued. “Oh God, it’s so big…mnhh… and I guess I’m not really on birth control either… unhhhh… am I daddy?”

“You’re a naughty little girl Karina…fuck honey… it almost sounds like you want me to get you pregnant…”

The two of them were fucking each other with reckless abandon - Karina’s hips rotating as best she could, and Jae greeting her again and again with forceful, and appropriate thrusts.

“Mnhhh you already could have gotten me pregnant the first time daddy… ughh fuck your penis is so big… there’s no harm in trying again, right?”

She knew that wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but it didn’t matter. Karina could see from the look on his face that they would, in fact, 'try’ again very soon.

“That’s it, daddy…” she managed. She’d been focusing so much on making her father cum, that she hardly realized the spider web of electricity slowly overtaking her body.

“Cum in your little girl daddy…mhhh… shoot all your sticky sperm in my pussy… I want you to!”

Jae grunted loudly, shoving so deeply into his daughter that she felt him reach a point where he could go no further. She waited, her body begging for the swell of his cock and then…

Karina felt her father’s already massive member grow inside of her before it bathed her cervix with a stream of life-giving semen. Karina simply couldn’t bear how wonderful and forbidden it was to feel the stuff that made her eighteen years earlier filling her own pussy.

She toppled with her father, seeing the desperate look in his eyes as he fought to keep up, bucking until she came with him. As his cock spurted again inside his baby, Jae got his wish.

The two of them were perfectly synchronous. Each time Karina’s tunnel clenched down on her father, it coaxed another gush of semen into her. They worked together to keep the teenager’s hips aloft as her father mashed against her, throbbing as deeply inside her as he could.

Always a voracious little one, Karina tried rotating her hips around the way she had when posing for her daddy before. Only this time, with his pumping member inside of her, and it was sensitive as hell. Jae managed to stay upright, but only just. His daughter’s incredible bottom worked out another few generous ropes of his cum as it gyrated around him.

Accidentally, Karina moved just a bit too ambitiously and her daddy’s cock found its way out of her. To her delight, it had just a little more white gunk to reward her with, which squirted oh-so-beautifully across her perfect mound and the smooth skin just below her belly button. Karina liked seeing it on her - a warm and welcome depiction of the much more abundant amount inside.

“It’s dripping…” she whined.

Karina couldn’t see quite as well as her father, but she could feel it. As he regained himself, Jae watched his fateful load gleaming at Karina’s swollen entrance. Laid is back the way she was; his daughter is doing a better job of keeping it all inside her, but Jae helps her out by covering the exit once again with his tip.

“There,” he said, “now you just have to stay like that forever and all my cum will stay inside of you.” Jae couldn’t help thinking he would be fine with that.

“Not all of it,” Karina said, looking at the little mishap of spunk that hadn’t made it inside her. To her father’s utter disbelief, she ran two fingers through the streaks and brought their coated tips into her mouth.

“I knew it would taste good.” She said, delighted with herself and the look on her dad’s face.

Jae finally collapsed, landing with a thud at his daughter’s side and rolling her toward him.

They simply stared for a while, one searching the other for signs of how they were thinking and feeling. Before she went crazy, Karina spoke up.

“What are you thinking?” She asked her father.

It was a question he’d heard many a time, but it was rarely one he had a good answer for. This time, though, he didn’t even have to consider it.

“I was just thinking that I don’t know what I’ll do now that I’ve had you.”

“What do you mean, Daddy?” she prodded inquisitively.

“I mean that I just know there won’t be anyone I love so much for… well, forever.”

Karina beamed. She nuzzled against her father like his little puppy and swam in the loveliness of his words. The warmth of her daddy’s orgasm slowly seeping down across the back of her thigh was replaced by the utter passion of his loving embrace.

“I know I’m only eighteen, but I don’t want you to love anyone else like that, daddy…” Karina said bashfully. I want us to be together. Is that okay?“

God, she was so beautiful, inside and out. "Of course that’s 'okay,’ sweetie. I told you I’d always take care of you. But I won’t get in the way of you finding someone who loves you, to have babies with, and all that.”

“That’s not fair, Daddy, you said you won’t find anyone else, but I have to?”

“No… I guess not… no that’s not what I meant…” There she was again, quicker than he by a long shot.

“Besides… I’m pretty sure that I might have already found someone to have babies with…” she implied, seeing her dad taken aback, “he just took my virginity and came in my pussy TWO times when he knew I could get pregnant.”

“Now you’re not being fair, I didn’t know the first time!” Jae rebutted.

Karina gave him a hard look, holding it and making him worry for a second. Then she cracked, feeling guilty and not wanting to give her father too much grief.

“I know you didn’t daddy, but you still fucked me again didn’t you?”

“I guess I did, and I’d do it again 1,000 times,” Jae told her decisively.

“Only 1,000 times? I’m only 18, Daddy, and now that I’m not a virgin anymore, I’m going to need you to 'take care of me’ a lot, I think.”

Karina squirmed in her father’s arms. Feeling her naked little body against his, Jae had little doubt he would be able to keep up with his daughter’s demands.

“And I think you’ll have to keep filling me up with your sperm, daddy, my orgasms were SO intense when you did.”

“Who’s the naughty one now, huh?” Jae chided.

“We both are,” Karina answered.

She and her father fell silent until the magnetism of their passion for each other brought them together. They kissed and touched in ways that made Jae feel as youthful as his beautiful daughter.

Thoughts of what came next for them hadn’t entered either of their minds yet. After an hour of lying together and talking quietly about everything and nothing, the two admitted defeat to the necessity of cleaning themselves up before anyone else could get home.

Karina yelped as sticky cum that had pooled between her legs trickled down one of them. That sight, of his naked little girl dripping with the utterly exposing remnants of their unprotected sex, was one he hoped to replicate again and again.

There was so much in store for them, more than likely some difficulty if they really wanted to be together, but the satisfied prance of Karina and the loving admiration with which he followed her, was all the two of them needed in that moment.

“I have another shoot a week from now,” Karina announced at the dinner table, only an hour or two after she and her father had showered together and reluctantly ended their day of temptation, lust, and lines crossed.

“That’s great, honey, where at?” Asked her mom, sounding disinterested.

“It’s on the beach, and it’s for five days to ensure good weather! It’ll be like a little vacation.” Karina said excitedly.

“Well, your dad will have to take you then, because I’m far too busy with work right now.”

“I know, Mom. Dad and I talked about it, and he will take care of me on my shoots now.”

“Sure, that’s fine with me. Are you sure you’re okay with that, Jae?” his wife asked.

Karina smiled widely, but the naughtiness in her eyes was only for him. If only they knew that the little blonde was sitting there with her daddy’s cum swimming about inside her…

“Yeah, I’m fine with it. Somebody needs to be there to make sure our daughter is safe.”

His words stunned Karina. But then… mom couldn’t know that their version of 'safe’ was daddy filling her eighteen-year-old pussy with potent sperm and full awareness of the risk. He only glanced at her briefly to assert his meaning, but Karina caught it, and the warmth he’d deposited within her seemed to return.

“The good news is, Daddy, we’ll have multiple days off to explore together.”

She looked directly at him, but his clever little daughter seemed as good at this as he was.

“And maybe get up to some trouble?” Jae continued the banter in front of his unsuspecting wife and son.

“I don’t like the sound of that at all.” His wife stated, but he knew she couldn’t possibly understand all the trouble he was imagining with Karina.

“I do,” said Karina, her words only for her father.

[okaylikeschaewon]

We Are Aespo

~7k words, inspired by Karina's "Aespo" slip up

Concerts, jets, explosions, these are some of the first thoughts that probably come to mind when one thinks about the word ‘loud’. However, there is nothing in the world louder than the sound of a glass shattering during a party. At least, that’s how it felt right now, and the DJ deciding to pause the music at the very same moment didn’t help either.

“Oops,” Karina stares blankly at the shards of glass decorating the marble floor as if she wasn’t the reason they were there.

“Alright,” you grab her arm. “It’s time to go.”

“B-But… I… look…” Karina cranes her neck to look over her shoulder at the mess, fighting your pull.

“They’ll take care of it, let’s go,” you give her another tug, ignoring her distress.

“Where go?” Karina asks cheerily, already forgetting about the glass.

“Away from stuff you can break.”

Karina stops moving and frowns. “It was an accident.”

The sigh barely escapes your lips before Karina’s face lights up and she runs right past you.

“Winter!” Karina shouts, forgetting about you entirely, and rushes toward the girl. She grabs Winter by the face and plants a kiss directly on her lips.

“Karina…” you groan, internally laughing at Winter’s wide-eyed expression. You grab Karina’s hand and pull her away. “Come on.”

“Where are we going now?” she whines, fighting your grip again. “I want Winter.”

“And I want you to drink some water.”

“More champagne?” Karina asks with those round puppy dog eyes. Your weakness that you always struggled to deny; She’s cuter than ever in this moment, rushing to keep up with you, latching onto your arm tightly.

“Maybe after the water.”

“Oh! Alright, but what–” she begins before suddenly squealing and crumpling to the floor.

“Karina!” you gasp, quickly kneeling down next to her. “You alright?”

“It… it…” her lip quivers and she brings her knees up to her chest, slowly tears pool up in her pretty eyes. “It hurts.”

“Aww baby,” you pull her into a hug and rub her back. “What am I ever going to do with you?”

“Karina!” Winter catches up, joining the two of you on the floor. “What is wrong with you?”

“I think I rolled my ankle,” she sniffles as you let go of her.

“Does this hurt?” you start gently flexing her ankle before Karina inhales sharply.

“Owie…” she pouts, quietly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry baby,” you reach forward and tenderly wipe her eyes, trying your best to avoid smudging her eyeliner.

Trying to be as careful as possible, you place her foot in your lap and begin massaging her ankle. Around you, the crowd pretends to ignore what’s happening, but envious glances occasionally catch your attention. You know very well they would do anything to trade positions with you, but all they can do is watch.

Meanwhile, Karina’s staring at you and her beauty has never hit harder. You feel your entire body burn warm under her gaze as she holds steady, letting your fingers work the joint. She’s in pain, a lot of it, but it’s quickly fading away. For just a moment, the hectic rambles of the event are wiped from your minds, leaving you in a comfort that you’d easily pick over everyone else in this room combined. The crowd no longer matters.

It probably helps that they’re all here to impress you, and not a single one of the millionaires attending would dare say anything but praise – at least not in public. They know better than that. Not that Karina cares what others think, in fact she couldn’t care less about the dull droning coming out of their mouths, the incessant forced-flattery whenever anyone would find the courage to talk to you. She knows they’re fake.

That’s probably why she decided to get so drunk tonight – an attempt to actually enjoy the evening. It doesn’t happen often, but you always have fun when it happens; Her silly, dorky behavior carries a charm that took barely more than one interaction for you to fall in love with. At this point, you’re far more entertained by her antics than the thought of listening to another wave of the gilded gibberish you’ve been enduring all evening. It was time for you to actually enjoy the six figures you spent on this party, and for you, that meant being with your girl.

“God, you look so beautiful right now,” you whisper while gently massaging your fingers into her ankle. “Can you walk, or should I carry you?”

“Or I could carry you,” Winter adds cheekily.

“That’s what I want, I want Winter to carry me,” Karina giggles as you help her to her feet. She frowns and looks down, testing her ankle. “I think I can walk, but I need…”

“I’m here,” you smile, slipping your arm around Karina’s waist and holding her up. “Winter, sweetheart, could you ask one of the staff to bring water and another bottle of champagne up to our room? And then please join us as well if you’d like a break from…” you gesture broadly at the swath of designer suits and dresses filling the room.

She nods.

“More champagne?” Karina’s voice jumps with excitement at the sound of more alcohol.

“Not for you,” Winter sings before scurrying off.

“You said that’s what you wanted, didn’t you?” you open the door and walk Karina to the grand staircase. “How can I say no to my princess?”

Karina leans over and kisses you on the cheek. “Do you love your princess?” her voice sweetens like syrup.

“More than anything,” you answer.

“More than your cars?

“More.”

“More than your house?”

“More than all of my houses.”

“More than your business?”

“Are you kidding me? I just ditched my business back there so that I could spend some time with the love of my life,” you point out. “Now, enough silly questions,” you add, leaning in and kissing her.

She giggles before squealing as you sweep her off her legs and into your arms.

“What?” you smile down at her and start climbing the stairs. “I’m not having you hop up these.”

Karina stares up warmly at you, her face brimming with emotion. She holds on tight as you walk her up the steps, smiling but also a bit on edge. She’s thinking about something, and she’s thinking hard.

“Yes?” you encourage her. “Think any harder and I’ll start seeing steam come out of your ears.”

“I think…” she begins softly, “the last time you carried me up these stairs was after our wedding.”

“Has it been that long?”

“Yeah,” she smiles up at you, the subtle, rosy alcohol-glow making her face shine more adorable than ever, as if that was even possible. “Do you remember that night?”

“Of course,” you open the door to your bedroom and gently lay Karina down. “Do you remember what happened after?”

“How could I forget?” she whispers with a smile, reaching her arms out towards you. “We had to cancel brunch the next morning because I literally couldn’t walk.”

“Whatever, we needed the sleep anyway,” you laugh before slowly climbing onto the bed with her, sliding your hand gently up her leg as you push her onto her back and carefully lay on top of her. You gently crash your lips against hers, bringing both hands up to her hips.

She kisses back, sliding her arms around your shoulders, running one hand through the hair on the back of your head. Her dress rides up her body as she wraps her legs around your hips, pulling you closer into her embrace, breathing heavily into your mouth.

The kiss turns aggressive. Like a fight, forceful and hostile. Her tongue intertwines with yours, she’s keeping you on your toes, figuratively speaking. Your heart races, trying to keep up with Karina’s passion – she’s unrelenting.

It’s primal instinct at this point. Karina’s warmth and love is all you crave in this world. You slip the straps of her dress off her shoulders before reaching lower and squeezing in her thighs, tightening the grip her legs have on your body. You want her close, as close as physically possible.

Her flowery scent engulfs your mind, numbing it briefly, alongside the subtle citrus taste of champagne on her lips. It would be addiction either way, anything Karina does is addiction for you. She doesn’t even know it, but she has full control of your every thought. She’s what you want, perfect in every way.

“Ahem,” a voice calls from behind.

Neither of you cares, still kissing as if your lives depended on it. Intoxicated and obsessed with the other’s taste, addicted and engrossed in the other’s body. She’s–

“Stop kissing!” Winter slams the door shut, glaring at the two of you with a bottle of water in one hand and champagne in the other.

“Don’t be jealous,” you ease away from Karina with a smile. “You had your turn earlier.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Winter walks over and places the bottles down. “What the fuck Karina.”

“What?” Karina giggles, sitting up in the bed, her dress a disheveled mess. “It’s not our first time kissing.”

“Yeah but in public?” Winter whines. “Everyone saw.”

“And they probably fucking loved it,” you laughed, giving the champagne bottle a shake. “Come on Winter, live a little.”

“Live a little? This was supposed to be a professional event. The entire company is present.”

“Oh please,” Karina scoffs, crossing her arms. “It was so boring.”

“Maybe for you it doesn’t matter, you’re already married to the damn king,” Winter retaliates. “No one cares what you do. I actually have to worry about my reputation. People talk, you know.”

“And you suck the king’s cock every morning,” Karina laughs. “I think your reputation is beyond saving here.”

“W-What are…” Winter stammers and her cheeks burn pink. “Don’t say it like that.”

“How else would I say it?” Karina teases. “Half of them already know your job is to empty his balls.”

“No they don’t!” Winter whines. She’s upset, but the problem is how cute she is even when she’s upset. “And that’s not my job!”

“Oh sorry I forgot,” a smirk flashes across Karina’s face. “Sometimes if you’re a good girl, he bends you over your desk.”

“Karina!” Winter complains.

“Relax Winter,” you uncork the champagne and give it a few shakes.

“Are you…” Winter begins backing away. “Don’t you dare.”

“Too late,” you smirk before moving your thumb aside and begin spraying Winter with champagne.

“My dress!” Winter cries out as she runs away, ducking her head into her arms.

The room erupts as you chase her down, fueled by Karina’s laughs and Winter’s cries. Winter runs around the bed, jumping on it and grabbing Karina for cover. Mouth wide open in shock, Karina shields her face, turning to the side and screaming as you spray her as well, laughing hysterically as you cover her in champagne.

“Babe!” Karina laugh-shouts in disbelief as she looks down at her soaked dress.

“Oh no,” you chuckle before walking over to the table and filling a glass. “Winter, do her a favor and help her out of that dress, it’s all soiled.”

“What about my dress?” Winter whines before unzipping Karina from behind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of yours too,” you smile, holding the glass out for Karina to take.

Karina smiles up at you, her tits on full display, barely covered by the lacy bra she had hiding under her satin gown. She accepts the glass, downing it in one go before handing it back to you.

“Your turn,” you refill the glass and hold it out for Winter.

“I don’t need that, there’s plenty right here,” Winter waves away the glass before crawling in front of Karina. “You drink it, and then drink another one for me,” Winter adds over her shoulder before devoting all of her attention to Karina.

She yanks down Karina’s bra, freeing her tits in all their glory, and shoves her face deep between them, licking up the champagne directly from Karina’s body. You can’t help but smile as you sip, enjoying the view of Winter as she slides her tongue all over Karina’s tits, lapping up anything she can reach – you’re reminded of how fucking lucky you are as you pour another glass of champagne.

Winter squeezes Karina’s tits together, creating a little ravine for her tongue to play in. She makes little circles, pushing her tits in all directions. Meanwhile, Karina’s loving it, eyes closed breathing through an open mouth, soft moans escaping her from time to time, especially whenever Winter’s fingers give her nipples little pinches. It’s hard to say who’s having more fun.

“My God, Winter,” you put the glass down and flip up her dress.

You laugh as she doesn’t even react, not even when you slip your fingers down the back of her underwear. Slowly, you ease your fingers down to Winter’s pussy, playing with her wetness while enjoying the show. “You’re so fucking wet,” you tease, daring a couple of fingers into her entrance.

“Am I?” Winter finally looks back over her shoulder at you, arching her back. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you yank down Winter’s underwear and give her ass a smack. “Right, babe? Wanna see?”

Karina excitedly sits back up and steps off the bed, stands next to you and also slaps Winter’s cheeks.

“Wow,” Karina licks her lips as she frees herself from her champagne-covered dress. “You look so fucking scrumptious.”

Winter laughs, reaching back and giving her own ass a slap. “Are you two just going to keep staring, or is someone going to fucking eat me out?”

“Go on,” Karina whispers as she steps behind you and snakes her arms around your hips. She presses her tits into your back, pushing you forward as her fingers unbuckle your pants. “I know you want her.”

She presses your face into Winter’s cheeks before you can even come up with a response, and your brain immediately turns to mush. You suck on Winter’s folds as hard as you can, trapping her pussy between your lips and flicking your tongue back and forth.

“Oh fuck,” Winter moans out, her knees nearly giving out.

“Get that pussy ready,” Karina calls out to Winter as she yanks down your pants and grips your cock. “Your night is just starting.”

Winter can’t make sense of Karina’s words, or anything for that matter, as she flexes her back, overwhelmed by your mouth. You keep sucking her pussy, using both your hands to spread her soft cheeks as far as they can go, getting your mouth as deep as you can. With your mouth buried in Winter’s pussy, you feel Karina’s fingers gently jerk your cock to life. It doesn’t take long, you’re already rock-hard.

“Oh fuck that, I changed my mind,” Karina gasps before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you out of Winter’s pussy. She tosses you onto the bed and you land on your back right next to Winter who’s still on all fours. “I need this cock so fucking bad.”

“Baby it’s yours, it’s always yours,” you laugh, grabbing your base and holding it straight up, waiting for Karina.

“What the fuck!” Winter whines. “I guess I’ll just go fuck myself.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Karina rolls her eyes before giving Winter the hardest slap of the night on her ass. “And take this shit off,” she tugs at Winter’s dress. “You’re too fucking cute to be covering up.”

Winter obliges, tossing her dress to the side.

Karina shoves her hand between Winter’s legs. “You’re really so fucking wet,” Karina moans as she shoves two fingers up Winter’s pussy.

“Don’t… Don’t fucking tease,” Winter crumbles to the bed.

“Winter, come here,” you reach over and grab her hand. “I need Karina to ride my cock already, you’re distracting her.”

“Me?” Winter retaliates as you pull her over. She places one knee right next to your ear and lifts her other leg up, following your lead. “I didn’t do nothing.”

“I don’t really care anymore,” you lick your lips at the sight of Winter’s pussy right above you. “Fucking hell, look at you.”

“Oh you like this?” Winter lowers herself just slightly out of reach as you crane your neck up.

She giggles as you give her ass another slap.

“Winter,” Karina scolds, joining the two of you on the bed as she straddles your body. “Turn around first.”

“Oh,” Winter quickly drops her pussy onto your face for just a moment before lifting herself up and flipping around so that she’s facing Karina. “Like this?”

“You’re killing him you fucking tease,” Karina laughs as she takes your cock in her hand and pokes at the precum leaking from your tip.

“Seriously, I’m going to remember this,” you moan, reaching up with both hands to spank Winter’s cheeks.

She giggles again before lowering her pussy down onto your face. Her thighs squeeze against your sides, and her pussy begins painting your face with her wetness. Her playful giggles almost immediately turn into moans, and you can just imagine Karina’s smile as she watches Winter sitting on your face.

It’s exactly what you want, almost sweet, a bit of tang, and unbelievably soft. Her folds press against your mouth hard, twisting and contorting to the shape of your face. You’re suffocating in her pussy and you love it. Just when you start thinking about how this is as good as it gets, your world gets flipped upside down.

Karina moans out, loud enough for you to hear even with your ears squished against Winter’s thighs. She’s lowering herself onto your throbbing cock, and that first bounce nearly makes you erupt on the spot. Karina’s pussy consumes your cock and your entire world. You might be starting to feel the alcohol.

You’re almost scared by how quickly you felt yourself about to bust. You try to hold back, desperately – and of course now Winter decides to start grinding her hips back and forth. Breathing becomes difficult, your body is struggling to hold on, it’s too much. You’re definitely feeling the alcohol.

It’s a battle with your body that you know you’re going to lose, but you still fight on as hard as you can. You start thrusting your hips up, slamming into Karina’s pussy as hard as you can. She starts moaning – perfect. Her pussy tightens, squeezing your cock, it’s almost painful how good it feels now. Her cries muffle, as do Winter’s, and you just know the two of them are glued by the mouths.

The view of Karina and Winter kissing engulfs your thoughts. You’re drooling, still suffocating on Winter’s pussy, and your cock is burning up. The pressure is building, it’s becoming too intense, overwhelming. You hold on, fighting on, trying to make the moment last, gasping into Winter’s pussy as you try to push your hips up.

Then, Winter slips forward just a bit too much, sliding her pussy across your chin. Instinctually, your face follows, and before you know it your tongue is pressing against her tight asshole. You push forward, indifferent, trying to get as deep as possible, using the last remaining ounce of strength in your body as you feel your breaking point approach.

Her asshole feels just as nice against your tongue as her pussy, if not better. Not as wet, but you can feel the tightness. You can feel her reservation, a timidness that fades almost instantly as you press your tongue into her asshole. She eases up, letting your tongue prod and explore her asshole – but it only lasts for a brief, fleeting moment.

Your head drops back, slamming into the bed, and your hips fly up towards the roof. You nearly launch Karina off your cock with how hard you thrust – the final thrust before you blow. Warm and with purpose, your cock shoots deep into Karina’s pussy as you fight desperately for air.

Holding herself just a few inches above you, Winter’s fingering herself, letting her pussy spray across your face with no regard as you gasp it all up, choking through an attempt to catch your breath. She dips her body down every few seconds, bouncing her wet pussy against your face again and again.

But you’re spent. All you can do is lay there, accepting the barrage of attacks, while still internally melting at Karina’s touch. She’s still riding your cock, even as you stop pumping her full, she’s making these little circles with her hips, driving you fucking insane. It’s too much, she’s too good.

Moments pass and Winter collapses next to you, her hand held tightly between her legs, trembling and quivering just enough to notice. Your attention, however, never wavers from Karina. She’s staring down at you, cupping her tits as she grinds up and down your shaft.

She wears this smirk, so confident in her ability. She knows the power she holds over your body, and she fucking loves it, wears it proudly. While from time to time she seeks reassurance with a glance in your direction. The truth is she doesn’t need it, there’s no doubt in her mind that she’s your everything – she owns you.

Karina lifts herself up, your thick white cum threatens to spill from her pussy. She steps off the bed and you almost want to reach out and stop her, but you can’t show how desperate she knows you are. So you let her go, wherever she’s going, and turn your attention to the girl balled up facing away from you on the bed.

You pull your hand back before slamming across Winter’s ass, sending her cheeks recoiling.

“Ah!” she shrieks, instantly turning towards you and covering her behind with her hands. “What was that for?”

“Nothing, just felt like it,” you laugh.

“Idiot…” Winter mutters as she scoots to the edge of the bed. “Is there any champagne left?”

“Yeah,” you sit up next to her and grab your cock. “I think there’s some right here.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” she rolls her eyes before giving you a quick couple of playful tugs. “God, why are you such a mess?”

“Me?” you wrap your arm around Winter’s waist and shove your fingers between her legs. You force her thighs apart as she turns into a giggling mess trying to fight you off. “I’m the mess?”

“Stop!” she’s gasping as you finger-fuck her, pulling away and trying to escape. “Please! I… I can’t breathe!”

She’s laying flat on her back now, chest heaving up and down after you let go of her pussy. 

Winter props herself up on her elbows and smirks at you. “I can’t believe you ate my ass.”

“I saw how hard you just came, don’t try pretending like you didn’t like it,” you turn away, leaning over the edge of the bed as the room sways side to side – the hangover is going to be brutal tomorrow,

She lifts herself up and sits on the edge of the bed right next to you again. Winter stares at you until you finally look back. She’s truly adorable, and her voice is just as cute when she speaks up. “I never said I didn’t like it,” she adds quietly, tilting her head and smiling at you.

“I’m glad,” you smile. “It was definitely unexpected.”

“Can we… do you think we could…”

“Already horny for more?” you tease when suddenly Winter frowns and her shoulders drop. “Winter–”

“Do people know?” she asks.

“What?”

She looks up at you, a small pout on her lips, eyes tender and delicate. “What Karina said earlier, do people from the company know about…” she adds quietly.

“No one outside of the three of us knows,” you reassure her as you wrap an arm around her shoulders. “She was just teasing you.”

“Promise?”

“Uh, I mean, I didn’t tell anyone,” you smile. “Did you?”

“No! I’d never–”

“Then I promise,” you interject.

Winter’s expression relaxes slightly and she starts to smile. She inches forward just a touch closer to you and her hand moves to your lap.

“Winter…” you breathe softly.

“Don’t think,” she whispers, leaning in for a kiss. “You’re the boss, just enjoy the moment.”

Her lips are soft and warm, and they wear the same subtle taste of champagne as Karina’s. It’s like she can read your mind, and she gives your cock a final stroke with her fingertips, sliding up your length before getting up and reaching for the bottle.

“I think I need to slow down,” you comment as she brings the bottle directly to her lips.

She holds the bottle out for you to take, using the back of her other hand to wipe her mouth. “Don’t be a bitch, drink.”

“Winter–”

“Shut up and drink,” she glares. “And then you owe me.”

“I owe you?” you accept the bottle with a laugh and take a sip.

“That’s right, you were supposed to fuck me earlier, remember? Before Karina stole you.”

“Oh yeah, where is she by the way?” you glance towards the door.

“Focus!” Winter whines as she grabs the champagne. She holds the bottle over your head and waits for you to open your mouth – even though you know it’s a bad idea to drink more – and she pours the liquid directly down your throat. “Good boy,” she smiles, emptying the rest of the bottle.

“You’re so fucking cute,” you mumble, trying to steady yourself on the bed, immediately feeling the alcohol from earlier hitting you. “But where’s–”

“She’s on the balcony,” Winter snaps before turning around, sticking her ass out and looking back at you. “Now can you fucking pay attention to me?”

“You’re just…” you pause to reach forward and slap Winter’s ass hard, “a stupid slut.”

“Alright dickface,” Winter rolls her eyes before stepping backwards until her ass is right in front of you. She has her legs just slightly bent, hands on her knees, and back arched just a bit. “Go on then, you know what to do.”

You lean forward, nearly falling forward off the bed, catching yourself against Winter’s ass. She buckles for a moment before steadying herself again, and you feel her hand reaching back to push your face into her. But it’s unnecessary, you don’t need any extra encouragement, the view of Winter’s tight little asshole staring at you was all you needed.

A gentle moan escapes your lips as you spread her cheeks wide. She gives her ass a little shake, right before you lunge forward, shoving your mouth into her ass. You push your tongue forward as hard as possible, entering inside her, licking and poking at her hole.

“Oh fuck,” Winter cries out, bringing her fingers between her legs. “That’s so fucking good.”

It’s addicting. You slide your tongue up and down between Winter’s cheeks before pressing forward again. You push into her asshole, moving your hands from her ass to her hips, holding her steady. Her ass is tight and your tongue struggles, but you try nonetheless, using as much strength as you can to spread her wide. The room is spinning, but you try your best to steady yourself, holding onto Winter’s ass for support.

She lets out a shriek and falls forward onto her knees, holding herself bent over in front of you, her fingers moving quickly between her legs. She’s trembling and writhing on the soft carpeted floor, moaning loudly as she fingers herself.

You let yourself slip off the bed as well and get right behind her. That tight little asshole, glistening with your saliva, is staring right at you. As badly as you want to shove your cock into her, it’s impossible – she’s squirming too much, and you know you’re too drunk to make this work right now.

Instead, you settle with a finger. You shove your middle finger down to the knuckle into Winter’s ass and she screams louder than ever. As you move back and forth, you can feel her fingers also moving in her pussy, so you try to alternate and match her. At the same time, you use your other hand to slap her ass hard, over and over.

She’s screaming and moaning, body twitching. It only takes a few more moments before she collapses to the floor, flat on her stomach, entire body quivering as her fingers slip out of her pussy. She lets out a long, drawn-out moan as you pull your finger out of her.

“Are you alive?” you chuckle, giving her ass a few squeezes.

“No,” she moans.

“Well, that’s an issue.”

“You… you need to fuck… me…”

“I think maybe you just need to rest up a bit.”

“No!” she replies forcefully despite still having no energy. “On bed, from behind.”

“Winter–”

“Now.”

You sigh before laughing and shaking your head. Then, you bend down and pick her limp body up from her armpits and place her stomach down against the edge of the bed. Her legs dangle off the edge lifelessly.

“Now fuck me,” she mutters.

“Winter,” you laugh again, tracing the red markings you left on her cheeks from earlier. “This isn’t happening.”

“Okay,” she sighs quietly, and within seconds she’s out, snoring softly.

You give her ass a little pat before putting on a robe and stumbling to the balcony. Outside, you find Karina leaning against the railing, holding an empty glass in her hand, her dress thrown on messily.

“Think you’ve had enough yet?” you take the glass from her hand and place it down before wrapping an arm around her waist, leaning against the railing with her.

“That’s why I’m out here,” she smiles at you for a second before turning to the view again. “Needed the fresh air.”

“You and me both.”

“How’s Winter? I heard her screaming.”

“Turns out she likes getting her ass eaten, who woulda known.”

Karina laughs. “Alcohol does things to that girl.”

“She also got kinda sensitive about people knowing.”

“What?” Karina cocks an eyebrow. “She knows I was joking, right?”

“Yeah, I told her that,” you gently rub Karina’s hip. “I guess it’s a soft spot for her.”

“She’s a really sweet girl, I hope she doesn’t downplay her success,” Karina frowns. “I really like that one, a lot more than your last assistant.”

“I know, I’d keep her around even if I wasn’t fucking her,” you reply. “She really makes my life a lot easier.”

“Yeah, and she sucks you off,” Karina nudges you in the ribs.

“That part matters less to me,” you turn Karina so that she’s facing you. “I’m more than satisfied with what I’m looking at right now.”

“Is that so?” Karina’s eyes glow in the moonlight.

“Absolutely,” you smile at her. “Although, you’d probably have to start showing up at the offices with me.”

“And have all your employees gawk at me all day?” Karina snorts. “No thanks. They fucking suck at hiding it. If I had a dollar for every time I caught one of them staring tonight, I’d be richer than you.”

“Can you really blame them, have you seen yourself?” you laughed. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

There’s a soft pause, Karina smiles at you, her cheeks still rose-tinted from the champagne.

“I really love you,” Karina whispers.

“And I love you.”

“No, really,” Karina frowns as if she’s being misunderstood. She wraps her hands around your lower back and steps closer. “I really, really love you, so much. So much…”

She stumbles, holding onto your body for support.

“Careful,” you grab her. “Should we sit?”

“No, just hold me,” she replies, squeezing you. “I love you.”

“You’re everything to me,” you kiss the top of her head and gently sway back and forth with her. It’s cold on the balcony, but your body is still warm – probably the alcohol.

Karina lets go of you and takes a step back, leaning against the railing.

“I know you just fucked Winter, but I’m still in the mood.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

“Oh?” Karina raises an eyebrow. “You ate her ass and she didn’t even let you fuck?”

“The girl passed out,” you chuckle. “I wasn’t going to wake her.”

“What about you? Any juice left in there?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

She smirks and pulls her dress down again until her tits are out. “Who do you think is asking?” she pulls on the string of your robe.

“For you, always,” you step forward and press your lips to hers. “But I am a little drunk.”

“I can see that,” Karina giggles as she turns around and leans over the railing, lifting her dress up. “Hold onto something.”

“You know,” you step right behind Karina and place your hand on her waist, “if anyone was to step outside right now, they’d see your tits.”

“Who gives a fuck, let them watch,” she giggles, bending over deeper.

“Did you know I love you?” you grab your cock and slide it up against her pussy.

“So I’ve heard,” she lets out a sharp gasp as you enter her pussy. “Oh! Slowly, please.”

“Anything for you,” you whisper into her ear, leaning closer, holding her tightly as you start moving your hips back and forth.

Her breath catches each time you ease your cock into her. It’s not an act, it’s genuine. In the cool breeze of the evening, you were her warmth, and her pussy yours. There’s no need to rush it, you just have to move your hips slowly against her body, anything you did right now worked, driving her insane without being too much.

Soon, the cold air vanishes, and Karina is consumed by warmth. Her pussy burns up, squeezing your cock gently with each thrust. Her body is obsessed, riding the edge, begging for more without being demanding. Even her moans, louder now, are careful and full of love.

And you can feel it all. Every emotion and sensation, you can feel it through her body. She’s squirming, leaning over more, holding the railing harder. Just a bit more, and it takes all the self-control in your body to keep going like this, part of you wants to grab her, take her, use her.

Just not now, because right now is Karina’s moment. It’s her turn to feel good, to feel loved. You aren’t going to take that away from her.

Her pussy warms up some more and you feel her legs buckle. She cries out, and you grab her for support, making sure she knows you have her. A rush of wetness spills out of her, down her leg, past your cock. She’s struggling now, and you’re basically the only thing holding her up – you can’t even thrust anymore, you’re just holding her as her pussy squeezes down on your cock.

“I love you,” you whisper into her ear before kissing her on the cheek.

She moans a response, still high off her orgasm. It takes her a few moments, a few moments of warmth where you simply hold your cock deep inside her. Finally, she regains enough strength to hold herself up, and she looks back at you over her shoulder.

“C-Can we go inside?” her teeth chatter.

You take her hand and walk her back to your room, closing the balcony door behind you. On your bed, Winter is still laying there with her legs hanging off the edge and her ass up, exactly where you left her earlier. Her cheeks are crimson red, enticing you to walk over and bring your palm down on them yet again, but you hold back.

“Let her sleep,” Karina thinks the same and takes your hand, walking you across the room to one of your armchairs.

She sits you down before dropping to her knees in front of you, staring up at you, gaze as sensual as imaginable. She’s dripping sex appeal from every cell in her body, just by existing, and she knows it, she knows how special she is to you.

“Just relax,” she whispers, delicately stroking your shaft, slowly without pressing. “Let me take care of you.”

Karina leans over and kisses your inner thigh. Just a short peck at first, pausing to gaze up at you before pressing her mouth against your skin again. She kisses deep, sucking and twisting against your skin, leaving a mark before moving her lips back.

Then she presses her tongue to the mark and slides it up your thigh until her lips meet the base of your shaft. She wraps her mouth around the side of your cock and slides her head up and down, as if playing the harmonica.

She’s slow, calculated, deliberate. There’s no need to rush, she knows she has you for as long as she wants – and that’s still not enough. Her lips graze your tip, blessing it with a quick kiss before sliding back down your length and resting against your balls.

Her fingers start to make little circles around your tip and she prods at your entrance lightly with her thumb as her tongue explores your balls. She pushes them around like they’re her toys – which they basically are. Up down left right, wherever she wants, until she opens her lips wide and lets them fall into her mouth.

Karina hollows her cheeks, sucking hard on your balls, coating them in her saliva while sliding her tongue between them. She lets one slip out, squeezing harder against the other until it also escapes. Her thumb is moving a bit faster now, little circles around your tip.

A sharp inhale slides through her teeth before she opens her mouth wide and shoves her face into your taint.

It feels fucking divine, so much better than you were prepared for, you nearly jump out of the armchair. The moan you let out is stifled, your brain doesn’t understand how to react, it’s too much pleasure, an avalanche of dopamine.

At the same time, Karina wraps her fingers around your shaft and starts stroking. She’s no longer slow and delicate, she’s fast. Her lips press hard into your skin, kissing deep, and her fingers give your entire length quick strokes, pausing every few times to make a little circle around your tip with her palm before going right back to your shaft.

“That’s so fucking good,” you moan softly, gripping the armrests until your knuckles turn white. “I fucking love you so much, oh my fucking God.”

She answers with another sharp breath as she backs up just slightly. With her hand still stroking rapidly, she reaches her mouth up and gives your balls a quick peck before pressing her mouth down again, pushing at your taint hard.

Your cock is throbbing, Karina can sense it. She works your length for a few more strokes, giving your skin a few final licks before lifting herself up. Her lips part, she stares at you until you lock eye contact, and then she lowers her mouth onto your cock, replacing her fingers as she moves down.

Inch by inch she goes until her nose presses softly against your crotch before quickly pulling back. Only then does she close her eyes and place her hands on your thighs. She starts bobbing up and down, sucking your cock with everything she has.

It’s inevitable, you’re about to bust. You can’t remember the last time you had a blowjob this fucking phenomal, it’s absolutely perfect to each detail. You can feel her lips squeezing hard against your shaft, her tongue prodding at your tip, the little pressure every time her mouth comes up.

She’s moving steadily, and you’re on the edge. You can’t, no, it’s impossible, but you try desperately to hold on, to make the moment last, begging your body to hold onto the moment for just a bit longer.

You can’t.

The room starts spinning, this time without any credit going to the alcohol. Your cock explodes inside her mouth, gushing cum all over. Instantly, some of it spills from her lips – impossible to contain. But she tries, she tightens her mouth some more, cheeks hollowed once more.

Her eyes flutter open, searching for your gaze, meeting it with more emotion than you can fathom. She’s perfect. Seriously, perfection is all you can think about when you stare down at her, your white mess spilling from her lips despite how hard she sucks against your shaft.

She’s patient, coaxing you to keep going without rushing you. Her tongue pokes and prods gently at your tip, easing out more of your cum until you’re entirely emptied. Everything, she gave you everything, and in return she got everything back, there was nothing left.

Karina sits up, letting your cock leave her lips, ignoring the gush of cum that spills out of her lips and onto her chest. She stares at you, gaze deep and intimidating, focused only on you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

You take her face in your hands, holding her, emotions brimming through your body. Your body is beyond relaxed, blood flowing. You pull her close and press your lips to her forehead, holding for a moment, kissing her gently.

“What did I ever do to deserve someone as amazing as you are?” you whisper softly as you lean back and gaze back into her eyes.

She giggles, then smiles, tilting her head to the side. For a moment, she just stares at you, lovingly and full of emotion. Then, she climbs onto the armchair and wraps her arms around you, holding her warmth against yours, becoming one with you.

She says the line again, you say it right back, and the two of you refuse to let go of the other. Ultimately there’s only one option left – you stay in each other’s embrace until you both peacefully fall asleep, comforted by undying love you share.

---

A/N:

This is a super quick fic. I spent about two evenings on it, purely spontaneous, inspired by my headcannon of them being drunk at that award show. I just love these two girls honestly. I still tried to read through it a few times to make sure there aren't too many mistakes, but sorry if you find some, I also went with present tense instead of past tense with this one so give me some leeway!

I am honestly struggling so hard with some of my other fics (looking at you Dating Seraphs). I know what I want to write, I have it literally planned out, but it's just so tough. Regardless, I appreciate everyone's patience and support. This blog has grown so much more than I could have ever imagined, I just hope I can keep releasing stuff you guys enjoy!

[zlut4rina]

♡a̲𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚 l̲𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬♡

___________________________________________

Silly disclaimer some (most) of these r with a man. But that's for obvious reasons.

-Karina♡

Blue collar Rina breeding you after work (g!pK)

Punishing her bad girl

Bay trapping doesn't sound so bad rn (g!pK)

Stepsis who likes to tease you through your panties (g!pK)

Your last day at the beach during her birthday trip (g!pR)

Touching your needy girl at work

Ruining you after a long day (g!pK)

It's hard staying professional at work when you're around

Helping her needy best friend out from stressing(g!pK

Taking her home and ruing her pussy after distracting you all meeting

Her first time taking you (g!pR)

-Giselle♡

The girls are around. But she's so needy

Movie night got a little outta hand (g!pG)

'Studying' with your hot crush (g!pR)

Her tit's are so huge and she knows how much you love them

Showing her what'll happen if she goes out like that (g!pR)

Taking your virginity while mom and dad are away (g!pR)

Tying you up while you take her (g!pG)

Playing with your pussy in the middle of the night

-Winter♡

'Cooling' her down after an argument (g!pW)

Needy min who loves to feel your tongue on her

Wanting to fuck her so bad but your too big :( (g!pR)

Alone in her dorm at night with her crush (g!pW

Just being absolutely obsessed with her body

Her fingers are just enough to fill you up

She can't wait to fill you up (g!pW)

Eating her pussy while she dozes off to bed

-NingNing♡

Ning riding you while the girls are sleep (g!pR)

Fingering her after dinner

Morning backshots before class (g!pR)

Her bf is away, and he clearly wasn't hitting it right (g!pR)

Turing her into a dripping mess all over

More early morning rendezvous

Making you squirt all over her dick (g!pN)

You told her she could have you whenever she wanted (g!pN)

___________________________________________

Karina'a Private Folder: File 1 File 2 File 3 File 4 File 5

Giselle's Private Folder: File 1 File 2 File 3 File 4 File 5

Winter'sPrivate Folder: File 1 File 2 File 3 File 4 File 5

NingNing's Private Folder: File 1 File 2 File 3 File 4 File 5

___________________________________________

I had to stop myself, or else this would go on forever 💔 ill make a pt2, maybe. The files were meant to be of js pics but uh .... decided maybe more "homemade" ykyk idek .. lolz

[chrissssssmut]

Karina winter yeji yuna school smut?

AFTER SCHOOL

Karina, Winter, Yeji and Yuna x Male Reader

I should’ve known something was off the moment Ms. Shin smiled at me during homeroom. That too-sweet kind of smile teachers use when they’re about to ruin your afternoon.

"You’ve been falling behind," she said, tapping her red pen against a stack of missed assignments. "So I’m assigning you to a group for academic support."

My stomach sank.

She continued, writing names at the top of my worksheet with smooth, deliberate strokes.

"Karina. Winter. Yeji. And Yuna. They'll… keep you on task."

I blinked. Thought she was joking. But when I looked over to the corner of the room, all four of them were staring at me—smiling.

Not the friendly kind of smile, either.

Fast forward to now. The final bell has rung. The classroom is empty. Door locked. Blinds down. Lights dim.

And I’m sitting at a desk, laptop in front of me, surrounded by four girls who look like they’re about to pounce.

Karina stands behind me with her arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. Winter leans against the chalkboard like she owns the place. Yeji is seated right on my desk, legs swinging lazily, skirt hiked a little too high. Yuna is in the corner by the windows, playing with the buttons of her blouse.

Winter speaks first. Her voice is soft, cool. Dangerous.

"You're gonna open that laptop," she says, slowly walking toward me. "You're gonna finish everything on that worksheet. And you're not leaving until it’s done."

I open my mouth to protest, but she smiles.

"Unless," she adds, "you need a different kind of motivation."

My throat dries. “Motivation?”

Karina leans down behind me. I feel her breath on my ear before I even hear her voice.

“We’re very… persuasive,” she whispers, fingers brushing my shoulders. “But you have to follow instructions. Exactly. No excuses.”

“Okay,” I mutter, voice shaky. “I’ll work.”

Yeji chuckles and crosses one leg over the other, leaning in until her face is inches from mine.

“You’re gonna be such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Her fingers hook around the loose knot of my school tie. She yanks it gently, pulling me forward until my nose nearly brushes the lace trim of her underwear.

“We’ll make it worth your while,” she says, lips curling into a wicked smirk.

Across the room, Yuna lets out a breathy laugh. Her blouse is halfway unbuttoned now, bare skin peeking through.

“I hope you weren’t planning on leaving early,” she says, tossing her bra onto my open notebook like it’s just another school supply. “Because we’re not stopping until we break you.”

My heart is thundering in my chest. I open the laptop with trembling hands.

Winter moves behind me, sliding her fingers up under my uniform shirt. Her nails rake gently over my ribs, sending a full-body shiver up my spine.

Karina kneels beside my chair, her hands already at my belt.

She looks up at me with calm, unreadable eyes. “Let us take care of the distractions,” she murmurs. “You just type.”

My pants slide down. My boxers go next.

I barely get to the first question on the worksheet before Yeji grabs my jaw and turns my face toward her inner thigh.

“Finish the first page,” she purrs. “You get a taste.”

Karina’s lips wrap around me under the desk. I almost fall off the chair.

She takes her time, tongue working in slow, torturous swirls, lips soft but firm. My hands twitch on the keyboard.

“Don’t stop typing,” Yuna says, hopping up to sit on the desk beside me. She grabs my wrist and pulls it under her skirt. “But keep these fingers busy too, yeah?”

She moans softly as my fingers slip into her, wet and tight and so very ready.

Winter presses her chest against my back, her breath hot on my neck. “I’m going to ride you soon,” she whispers. “But if you cum before we say so…”

She drags her tongue over the shell of my ear.

“…we’ll start everything over from the beginning.”

Karina moans around my cock, her head bobbing rhythmically. Every time I twitch, she just sucks harder, like she’s daring me to lose control. Like she wants to see me beg.

“Focus,” Yeji says, eyes flicking down to my screen. “Get to question five.”

I’m drenched in sweat. Muscles tense. My brain is short-circuiting from sensation overload. I don’t even remember what I’m typing.

Winter slides onto my lap, lifting her skirt. No panties.

She sinks down onto me in one smooth motion.

I bite down a scream.

“You like that?” she whispers, hips grinding slow and deep. “You’re doing so well… but we’re not even halfway done.”

Yuna leans forward, tongue trailing a wet stripe up my chest, giggling as she sucks one of my nipples between her lips. Her hand stays between her legs, grinding against my fingers like a girl possessed.

Yeji’s rocking against my thigh now, one hand tangled in my hair, the other squeezing her own breast beneath her uniform. She watches me like a predator, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every helpless moan I make.

Karina’s still beside the chair, stroking me every time Winter lifts herself up. Her hand moves in sync with Winter’s rhythm. Precise. Lethal.

“You’re going to cum soon,” Karina whispers. “Aren’t you?”

I nod, frantically, stupidly. I can’t hold on.

“No,” Yeji snaps, grabbing my face. “You wait.”

Winter tightens around me, grinding harder, her eyes fluttering shut. “Almost there,” she groans. “Don’t you dare cum until the worksheet’s done.”

I’m dying.

Everything burns. Everything pulses.

Karina strokes harder. Yuna moans louder. Winter rides faster.

Then Karina leans in, lips brushing my ear.

“Last question,” she says, voice honey-sweet. “If you get it right…”

Winter kisses me, full and messy and possessive.

“…we’ll let you cum.”

I slam the final key.

Everything explodes.

Winter cries out, clenching tight. Yuna throws her head back, riding my fingers until her thighs shake. Yeji bites her lip, watching me with wild, hungry eyes as I finally let go.

I cum hard, body wracked with pleasure, every nerve on fire.

Karina strokes me through it, slow and loving, like she wants to milk every drop.

The classroom is filled with panting. Moans. The quiet hum of my laptop.

I’m ruined.

Shirt half-off. Tie gone. Skin marked with lipstick and scratches. My legs are jelly. Brain fried.

Yuna giggles, hopping off the desk and adjusting her skirt.

“You passed,” she says.

“Barely,” Yeji adds, licking her lips.

Winter pulls away from my lap and kisses my jaw, her eyes dark and gleaming. “Don’t fall behind again.”

Karina tucks my shirt back in gently, then kisses my forehead like I’m some kind of good boy she’s proud of.

“Or next time,” she murmurs, lips brushing mine, “we won’t be so gentle.”

The Next Day

I didn’t even argue this time when Ms. Shin told me I’d be finishing today’s work in the library.

She gave me the same knowing smile, the one that sent a shiver down my spine yesterday, and handed me a thick packet of revision problems.

“Quiet place. No distractions,” she said.

Right.

By now, I knew better than to think I’d be studying alone.

And sure enough, not ten minutes into flipping through the pages in one of the back rows—hidden between the history section and some dusty old encyclopedias—I heard soft footsteps. The rustle of skirts. Giggling.

I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

“You really thought you’d get away from us?” Yeji’s voice came first, teasing and low. “That’s cute.”

I looked up just as the four of them stepped into view, uniforms still perfect, but expressions anything but innocent.

Winter shut the book in my hands with a little snap. “Did you miss us?”

Karina knelt beside me again, just like yesterday, but this time she didn’t say anything. Just stared at me with that serene, unreadable gaze, her hand already sliding up my thigh like it belonged there.

Yuna leaned against the bookshelf behind me, stretching her arms over her head like she didn’t care who saw. "Ms. Shin says you need to improve your focus,” she said, licking her lips. “So we’re here to help.”

I glanced around the library. There were a few other students up front, maybe two tables away. The librarian’s desk was clear.

This was insane.

But the heat in my gut didn’t care.

“Guys,” I whispered. “We’ll get caught—”

“We know,” Karina murmured, fingers teasing the waistband of my pants. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Yeji leaned down and dragged her nails down my arm. “You’re already hard. Don’t pretend you’re innocent.”

Winter smirked and pulled a chair across from me, spinning it so she straddled it backward, arms resting on the top. “Here’s the deal,” she said. “You solve five problems. For each correct answer, you get a reward.”

“And if you get one wrong…” Yuna grinned wickedly, fingers playing with the edge of her skirt, “We punish you. Quietly.”

Karina’s hand slipped into my pants, and I choked on my own breath.

I tried. I tried to focus.

The first question was something about historical treaties. I scribbled an answer, hands shaking.

Karina stroked me slowly, watching my every reaction like she was cataloguing them.

Winter got up and circled around to my side. She bent down, her lips brushing my ear.

“Correct,” she whispered. “So you get this—”

Her tongue flicked against my earlobe. Then her hand dipped between my legs, joining Karina’s, making me twitch violently in my seat.

I gritted my teeth, eyes squeezing shut.

"Focus," Yeji sang from behind her hand, pretending to read a book. "You're making faces. They’ll notice.”

I forced myself to the second problem. It was barely legible now.

Behind me, Yuna crouched and slid her hand under the back of my shirt, her nails scratching lightly down my spine.

“Wrong,” she whispered. “You mixed up the year.”

She reached around and grabbed me harshly, jerking me once, twice—just enough to make me see stars—then letting go.

“Bad boys don’t get to cum,” she hissed.

“Third question,” Karina said calmly. “If you get it right, maybe we’ll let you taste one of us.”

I nodded frantically and filled in the blank. Something about revolutions.

Winter peeked over my shoulder and smirked. “Close enough.”

Yeji pulled her chair closer and lifted one leg onto the table.

“No hands,” she whispered. “Just your mouth.”

I looked around—no one close.

Heart hammering, I leaned forward.

Yeji shivered when my tongue found her, legs trembling as she bit her fist to keep from moaning.

“You’re good at this,” she gasped. “Fuck—don’t stop—”

Karina gripped my chin and pulled me back.

“Fourth problem,” she said coolly. “Let’s see if your brain still works with your mouth busy.”

I barely read it. My hands were shaking. I circled an answer and prayed.

Winter checked it.

Then bent down, lifted her skirt, and sat on my lap, no underwear again.

“I’ll allow it,” she breathed, sinking down onto me.

I choked back a moan as her warmth enveloped me, and she immediately began grinding, slow and cruel and tight.

“Don’t. Make. A. Sound,” she hissed.

The table shifted slightly. Books wobbled.

Karina looked toward the front of the library.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Librarian’s coming.”

Yuna moved quickly, yanking a nearby blanket someone had left draped on the study chair and tossing it over my lap. Winter stayed perfectly still, biting her lip hard.

Yeji opened a book and leaned forward, pretending to read with exaggerated focus.

Karina sat back against the shelves, legs crossed, innocent as a nun.

The librarian’s heels clicked closer.

“Everything alright back here?” she asked.

I froze.

Winter didn’t. Her walls clenched.

“Just helping him study,” Karina said smoothly. “He’s working hard.”

The librarian hummed. “Good. Keep it down.”

As soon as she turned and walked off, Winter exhaled hard against my neck and began to ride me again, slower now, deliberately cruel.

“You’re not cumming until the last question’s done,” she whispered. “And we’re all satisfied.”

Yuna climbed onto the table and straddled my chest, pulling my face to her dripping heat. “Make up for question two,” she said.

Yeji stroked herself as she watched me tongue Yuna open, her moans muffled against her arm. Karina leaned down and whispered filth into my ear, her hands tugging and teasing me every time Winter lifted herself up.

“I’m close,” Winter gasped. “Hold on—don’t cum—”

“I’m—shit—I’m gonna—” I couldn’t hold it.

Karina’s nails dug into my thigh.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Then everything blurred—Yuna came with a high, desperate whimper, Yeji followed moments after with a strangled moan, and Winter finally gasped my name as she pulsed around me, trembling.

Only then did Karina pull my face to hers and kiss me like she owned me.

“You did better today,” she said, stroking me slowly. “We’re proud.”

Winter slid off, carefully pulling the blanket back over my lap.

I was soaked. Spent. Fucked half-senseless.

Karina whispered, “You can finish now,” and stroked me just right.

I came so hard I almost saw white.

We cleaned up quietly—well, they did. I could barely move.

Karina kissed my temple.

Yeji fixed my tie.

Yuna tucked the worksheet into my bag.

Winter licked her fingers clean and winked. “Same time tomorrow?”

I nodded, dazed.

“Good,” Karina said softly. “Because next time…”

She leaned in, lips brushing mine.

“…we’re not letting you leave at all.”

It had been one day since the library.

One day since Karina whispered filth in my ear while riding me behind a bookshelf. One day since Winter, Yeji, and Yuna took turns teasing me to the edge with eyes locked on the door, waiting to see if someone—anyone—would walk in and catch us.

No one did.

But someone noticed.

“Come see me after class,” Ms. Shin said, sliding a post-it on my desk as she walked by.

No explanation. No expression. Just the quiet weight of her words and the way her eyes lingered on me… like she was studying a lie.

Karina leaned over from behind me. “She called you?”

I nodded.

“She knows,” Yeji said from the next desk, not even bothering to whisper.

“She suspects,” Winter corrected, looking too calm. “There’s a difference.”

Yuna, chewing on the tip of her pen, smiled lazily. “So what? She can’t prove anything.”

Karina’s fingers trailed up the back of my neck. “She doesn’t have to prove it. She just has to separate us.”

The idea made my stomach twist.

After the bell, I made my way to Ms. Shin’s office, heart pounding like a drumline. Her door was cracked open.

“Close it,” she said without turning around.

I obeyed.

She didn’t look at me at first. Just tapped her pen against a sheet of paper.

“I’ve taught here for eight years,” she said finally. “And I’ve never had a group as... close-knit as yours.”

I stayed silent.

“The four of them cling to you like satellites. Always orbiting. Always watching. And you… you’ve changed.”

“I—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, cutting me off. “You’re distracted. Your posture, your eyes. You flinch when someone touches your shoulder. And your test scores are slipping.”

I clenched my fists.

“If something’s happening between you and those girls—something inappropriate—you need to tell me now.”

She turned toward me, eyes sharp and concerned.

“I can help you. I can reassign you. I can call your parents if you're too scared to say anything.”

“I’m not scared,” I said, too quickly.

“So there is something,” she murmured.

Shit.

I backpedaled fast. “No. I just meant—I don’t need help. There’s nothing going on.”

Ms. Shin leaned back slowly, searching my face.

“You’re a smart boy,” she said. “But you’re not a good liar.”

The room felt like it was shrinking.

“If I find out they’ve coerced you—”

“They didn’t,” I snapped.

That caught her off guard.

“They didn’t coerce me. It’s not… like that.”

“So what is it, then?” she asked.

I couldn’t answer. Because the truth was messier than anything she was imagining.

Karina walking into my room without knocking. Winter crawling into my lap with a hungry look. Yeji pinning me to a wall during break. Yuna whispering threats into my ear with a smile on her lips and her hand down my pants.

It wasn’t coercion.

It was obsession.

And it was mutual.

“I just want to focus on school,” I said, the lie catching in my throat. “That’s all.”

Ms. Shin looked unconvinced.

“You’ll work with me from now on,” she said. “No more group projects. No more ‘study sessions.’ You stay after school, here, under my supervision.”

“I—”

“That’s final.”

I left the office feeling like I’d been sentenced.

They were waiting.

Outside the classroom. All four of them.

Karina leaned against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Winter looked like she already knew what happened.

Yeji tilted her head. “How bad?”

“She’s pulling me from the group,” I muttered.

Yuna blinked. “She what?”

“She wants me working under her from now on.”

Karina stepped forward. “She’s trying to isolate you.”

Winter grabbed my hand. “That’s not going to happen.”

Yeji glanced down the hallway. “Where is she now?”

“She’s still in her office,” I said. “Planning whatever ‘private sessions’ she has in mind.”

Yuna smiled, slow and feral. “So we beat her to it.”

“What?”

Karina took my wrist, firm and final. “Storage room. Now.”

The door clicked shut behind us.

No light. Just shadows and breath.

Winter pinned me against the shelf first. “She wants to protect you?”

Yeji’s hands slid under my shirt. “She wants to own you.”

Karina was unbuttoning my pants already. “But she’s too late.”

Yuna pulled her skirt up. “We claimed you first.”

The girls didn’t take turns this time. They swarmed.

Hands everywhere—Karina’s mouth on my neck, Winter’s fingers around my length, Yeji licking up my chest, Yuna grinding on my thigh.

I tried to speak. Couldn’t.

“You don’t want her,” Winter whispered against my ear. “You want this.”

“You want us,” Karina hissed, sinking down onto me before I could even gasp. “Say it.”

“I want you,” I groaned, biting my lip to muffle it.

Karina rode me hard, fast, one hand clamped over my mouth while Yeji held my hips still. Winter and Yuna knelt below, licking and moaning, their tongues trailing over everything Karina left exposed.

“I’ll go to her office,” Yuna whispered between licks. “I’ll tell her to back off.”

Karina moaned. “If she doesn’t... we’ll make her.”

The climax hit hard and fast, Karina milking me dry while the other girls moaned, whispering about how they’d keep me hidden forever if they had to.

Afterward, they dressed me, button by button, fixing my tie like nothing had happened.

“She’s watching,” Karina said. “We know.”

Winter cupped my cheek. “She’ll try to separate us.”

Yuna kissed me softly. “Let her try.”

Yeji leaned close, voice like velvet. “If she takes you… we’ll take you back.”

[bellaaae]

Aespa being mothers to YN 👶🎧[573k views]

— Clip 1💌

Yn and Karinas live.

“YN is like supernova winter and doesn’t have any eyebrows😂” YN read out the comment and glared at the camera.

YN pouted and whined pointing at her eyebrows. “I have eyebrows!” She her eyebrows pointing to her eyebrows that looked like an empty space.

“Yah watch yourself, my child has eyebrows…It’s just cause it’s blonde” Karina gave the camera (fan) a warning finger and placed YN’s head on her shoulder caressing her cheeks.

— Clip 2💌

Aespa were doing a vlog to show fans how they spend their day off in the dorm.

As winter was moving around hers, Giselle and YN’s shared room, she caught a clip of YN and Giselle watching anime in the background.

The cameras switch and now it was Giselle the camera. “Me and YN were watching anime, Dr.Stone and now she ended up falling asleep” Giselle said raising up the camera so that YN’s sleeping face could show.

She pinched YN’s cheeks. “Cute Right? I know” she smirked and set down the camera getting down from the bed covering YN with the duvet followed by a kiss of the younger girl’s forehead.

— Clip 3💌

Yn was shooting for her Armageddon teasers.

She was holding the camera. “It’s kinda lonely since it’s only me here… the other unnies already did theirs…” YN spoke and the camera switched to her listening to the director.

After the director was done speaking YN was looking around waiting patiently for the instructions when she noticed winter in the corner holding a camera.

She waved a hello at winter.

Winter did a fighting with her hand and YN’s smiled doing the same back.

“Came here to cheer for our youngest and to make sure she doesn’t feel lonely” winter said to the camera that was videoing her.

Winter was videoing and watching YN with a motherly smile.

As YN was posing for the picture winter couldn’t help but adore her. “It’s funny how she’s different in our teasers than in real life, in our teasers she’s like a hot and serious model but in real life she’s like a baby”. Winter spoke as she giggled.

— Clip 4💌

Yn was waiting at the back of Ningning before they went on stage to perform.

Ningning turned to YN and fixed her hair also complimenting her look.

Before they started shooting the performance Ningning fixed YN’s hair again then lighting pinching her cheeks 🤏🏻.

After the performance Ningning still fixed YN’s hair again. Hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.

Yn gave a disgusted reaction to tease her earning a light smack on her arm from Ningning who was laughing.

— Clip 5💌

“Uh Minjeong is your wallpaper still the same? The picture of YN sleeping?” Ningning read out the comment.

“Is it?” YN asked turning her head to winter.

Winter turned on her phone and the photo of sleeping YN was still there. “It’s still the same. I can never change it unless I find a cuter picture of YN which is highly possible because YN is effortlessly cute” she explained and the rest of the members awed at the winter.

“My wallpaper is a picture of YN playing in the snow” Karina said unexpectedly and showed the camera the wallpaper.

“Ah mine is a picture of staring at the sunlight and the sunlight reflecting on her brown eyes” Giselle said and they all chuckled.

The other members turned to Ningning. “What about you Ningning” Giselle asked.

Ningning smiled awkwardly. “Ah mine…it’s YN but..” she showed her wallpaper making all of them Burst into laughter.

✰𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀

[sparklingblu]

Infinite Impossibilities: A Pervert's Dream Journal

Day 1: Karina

You sit in the lecture hall, struggling to focus on professor Karina’s lecture. It’s not that the material is boring - you’re quite interested in the works of John Keats. But fuck, it’s nearly impossible to pay attention with a goddess like her standing at the podium.

Karina is weaning a tight-fitted blazer that hugs her curves in all the right places. The fabric stretches taut over her ample breasts, the buttons straining to contain them. Your eyes keep drifting to her deep cleavage, wondering if she’s wearing a bra and what kind. Lacy and sheer, maybe? Or something more functional and practical? Maybe she’s not wearing anything at all.

She turns to write on the whiteboard, and your gaze zeroes in on her ass. The skirt she’s wearing is just long enough to be appropriate, but it rides up enough to give you a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, toned thighs. You imagine hiking it up even further, exposing her plump ass cheeks and giving them a firm spank.

But you shake those thoughts away quickly, feeling your cock twitch in your pants. Christ, get it together. Karina continues speaking passionately about Keat’s metaphors and symbolism, her full, glossy lips moving hypnotically as she forms each word. You picture them wrapped around your thick shaft, sucking you off with the same enthusiasm and dedication to her craft. Your erection grows, straining against the confines of your jeans.

She runs a hand through her long, silky black hair as she considers a student’s question, and you fantasize about gripping that hair, holding her head in place as you fuck her mouth. Those dark, soulful eyes of hers would look up at you pleadingly as you use her throat for your pleasure, forcing her to gag and choke on your huge cock.

Jesus, you’re in trouble. How are you going to make it through this class without jumping her right here in front of everyone? The things you’d do to her if given the chance….you bet she’d be a quick learner. Eager to please. Such a good girl, desperate for a nice, hard cock.

You imagine bending her over the podium and hiking up that prim little skirt. Ripping her panties off and rubbing your hard cock between her ass cheeks. Spanking her when she begs too loudly for it. Teasing her pussy with the tip until she’s dripping wet and aching to be filled.

Maybe you’d let her suck you off first, giving a taste of what's to come. Making her swallow every last drop before shoving your cock in her soaking cunt and pounding her until she screams. Until she forgets all about fucking Keats and only remembers the way your cock feel splitting her open.

You take a deep breath, trying to will your erection away. The thoughts of Karina naked and writhing beneath you are not helping. Fuck, you need to get a grip. Think about something else. Anything else. Like Keats’ fucking Odes. Right. Odes.

You barely register the end of the lecture, just barely picking up your stuff in time before she dismisses the class. You follow the herd of students filing out, forcing yourself not to look back at Karina. She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Why would she? You’re just another horny student. Not worth her notice.

As you reach the door, you hear your name called out in a melodic voice. Your heart stops for a moment as you turn around. She’s looking right at you, her dark eyes intense and focused.

“Mr. Raphael, could you stay after class? I’d like to have a word with you”

Fuck. You swallow hard, nodding mutely as you watch her bend over the podium, rummaging through her notes. Oh god, you’re in deep now. She’s going to realize what a pervert you are. What you’ve been thinking about doing to her hot little body.

You approach Karina’s desk, hands trembling slightly as you try to think of an excuse. You didn’t do anything wrong….right? Maybe she just wants to discuss your grade or assignment feedback.

After a while, Karina takes her seat and looks up at you with a warm smile, her dark eyes twinkling. “ Mr. Raphael, thanks for staying. I wanted to speak with you about your latest assignment on Keats’ odes.”

You nod, feeling a bit awkward. “Oh, uh, yeah. What do you think?”

She leans back in her chair, the fabric of her tight blazer stretching obscenely across her huge tits.. “I think it’s excellent work. You clearly have a deep understanding of the material and a real knack for close reading”

You feel a surge of pride at her words, but it’s tempered by the way her gaze seems to linger on you just a moment too long. Is it your imagination, or is there a hint of something more in her eyes?

“That’s great to hear,” you manage to say, shifting from foot to foot. “I really enjoy the subject matter”

“I can tell,” she says, a small smile playing at the corners of her glossy lips. “I’m glad you appreciate it. I aim to be very….hands-on with my students. “

Your mind immediately conjures images of those elegant hands all over your body, gripping your ass, stroking your cock. You shift uncomfortably, feeling yourself grow hard.

“And I couldn’t help but notice how much you seem to…admire my tits,” she continues, toying with the buttons on her shirt. “The way you stare at them during class. Like you’re aching to free them and bury your face between them.”

“Professor Karina, I….” you start to protest weakly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

“Oh please, spare me the innocent act,” she scoffs. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like a starving man eyeing a feast.”

She stands up and walks around the desk, hips swaying hypnotically. She comes to stand right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off her body. Her tits brush against your chest and you bite back a moan.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot on your ear. “You want to bend me over this desk and pound my pussy until I scream.”

You whimper, your cock now rock hard and straining against your zipper. “Yes,” you admit hoarsely. “Fuck yes.”

She grins wickedly, backing up slightly to give a good look of her body. “Then why don’t you show me what you’ve got? Fuck me like the horny little cumslut I am”

Before you can react, she’s unbuttoning her shirt and shrugging it off, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contains her massive tits. You gape at them, mesmerized by their perfect roundness and softness.

She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her tits spring free, huge and heavy and perfect. The rosy nipples are hard little peaks begging to be sucked.

“Touch them,” she demands, pushing her chest out invitingly. “Grab my fucking tits and worship them like they deserve.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You reach out and cup her massive breasts in your hands, marveling at their weight and softness. They overflow your palm, the warm flesh spilling between your fingers. You squeeze them gently, feeling the heavy globes respond to your touch.

“Mhmm, just like that,” she moans, arching into your touch. “Play with those big fucking titties.”

You pinch one of her sensitive buds between your thumb and forefinger, tugging on it and rolling it back and forth until she’s writhing against you with desire. Her other nipple is just as needy, begging for attention. You give it the same treatment, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Feeling my big tits in your hands. Groping them like you’ve always dreamed of”

You lean down and capture one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the rigid peak.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she cries out. “Suck my tits like a hungry baby. Suck them until I leak milk.”

You switch to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention as you palm and squeeze her breasts. The flesh is soft and pilant in your hands, yet firm with muscle beneath the surface. You could spend hours exploring those incredible tits, learning every inch of their curves and hollows.

But Karina has other ideas. She pulls your head back by your hair, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Enough playing with my tits,” she growls. “I need you to eat my cunt. Now.”

She shoves you down onto your knees and hikes up her skirt, revealing a skimpy thong already soaked through with her arousal. The scent of her pussy fills your nostrils, musky and sweet.

“Taste me,” she hisses, grinding her crotch against your face. “Shove your tongue in my fucking hole and lap up all my juices.”

You bury your face between her legs, licking and sucking at her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. The taste of her is divine, heady and intoxicating.

“Pull my thong aside,” she pants, fisting your hair. “I want to feel your tongue on my clit.”

You comply, tugging the soaked fabric to the side and diving in with renewed fervor. You swipe your tongue along her slit, moaning at the first taste of her nectar on your tongue.

“Oh fuck yes,” she cries out, riding your face shamelessly. “Lick my cunt like a good boy. Make me cum all over that pretty mouth.”

You alternate between lapping at her folds and flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until she’s thrashing against you.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum!” she screams, her thighs clamping around your head. “Don’t you dare stop!”

You double your efforts, plunging two fingers as she squirts all over your face and mouth, gushing hot cum down your throat. You swallow it greedily, relishing every drop of her essence.

When she finally comes down from her high, she pushes you away and backs up, panting heavily. “Now get up and strip,” she orders, eyes dark with lust. “It’s time for me to return the favor.”

You scramble to obey, yanking your clothes off in record time. Your cock springs free, hard and ready and straining towards her.

“Mhmm, such a nice big dick,” she purrs approvingly, stroking it with one hand while unzipping her skirt with the other. She lets it pool at her feet before stepping out of it, leaving her in just her thigh high stockings.

She turns around and bends over the desk, reaching back to spread her ass cheeks apart. Her pussy glistens with juices, pink and perfect and so fucking ready for you.

“Fuck my cunt,” she demands, looking back at you over her shoulder with a challenging glare. “Pound me into this desk until I can’t walk straight.”

You grab her hips and line up your cock with her entrance, rubbing the head teasingly through her slick folds. She moans impatiently, wiggling her ass against you.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already!” she snarls. “Impale me on that huge fucking cock!”

You can’t deny her a second longer. With one hard thrust, you bury yourself balls-deep in her tight heat. She cries out in ecstasy, her walls clamping down around you like a vice.

“Oh god yes!” she wails as you start to move, sawing in and out of her with powerful strokes. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

The desk creaks and shakes beneath you as you rut into her like an animal, driven by pure primal lust. She meets every thrust with the roll of her hips, slamming against you with wanton abandon.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, mingling with her high-pitched moans and your low grunts of pleasure. Your hands reach around to grab her tits, squeezing the soft mounds roughly. You pinch her nipples between your fingers, twisting and pulling on the sensitive buds.

“Ahhh! Fuck yes play with my tits!” Karina moans, arching her back to push her beasts further into your grip. You comply eagerly, kneading the pillowy flesh and rolling her nipples between your fingers until they are stiff peaks.

Your hips piston faster, driving your cock deeper into her sopping wet cunt. The head bumps against her cervix with each thrust, making her yelp and shudder. You can feel her getting tighter and tighter around you, her body tensing as she nears her peak.

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!” she cries out, her voice high and breathy. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop!”

You double your efforts, pounding into her harder and faster than ever. Your balls slap against her clit with each stroke, the lewd sound making your cock throb with need. The pleasure is intense, building and building until it feels like you might explode.

“Cum inside me,” she pants, pushing back onto you with bruising force. “Fill me up with your hot seed. I want to feel you pulsing in my cunt”

Her words send you hurtling over the edge. With a roar, you bury yourself to the hilt and let go, spurting jets of cum deep into her waiting womb.

She cries out in rapture as she feels your release flooding her insides, triggering her own orgasm. Her pussy spasms around you as she comes hard, milking every last drop from your cock.

You collapse on top of her, both of you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of pleasure course through your bodies. She turns her head and captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with her tongue.

When you finally break apart, she smiles at you wickedly. “Mhmm, now that’s what I call a productive study session,” she purrs, giving your softening cock a squeeze. “But don’t think we are done yet. I’m going to drain those big balls of yours until you are completely empty.”

She strokes your semi-hard length, coaxing it back to full mast. You groan at the sensation, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. But your body responds eagerly to her touch, your cock hardening in her grip.

“I want you to fuck my tits,” Karina demands, pushing you down on the desk chair. She kneels before you, squeezing her breasts together. “Cum all over those perfect tits. Coat me in your juice.”

You can only nod dumbly, too turned on to form words. She takes your rigid cock and nestles it between her soft mounds, enveloping you in warm, pillowy flesh. Then she starts moving, sliding up and down your shaft with a steady rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, mesmerized by the sight of your dick disappearing between her tits over and over.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. The hottest professor on campus, the one you have fantasized about for weeks, is on her knees before you, her luscious tits wrapped around your aching cock. It’s like something out of a daydream.

As Karina works your shaft with her perfect breasts, you reach out to grab her hair, guiding her head down further. She takes the hint, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard on the tip of your cock each time it pops out from her cleavage.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you groan, hips bucking up to meet her movements. “Suck that cock you dirty slut. Show me how much you love having my dick in your mouth.”

She moans around you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her hands cup your balls, massaging them gently as she blows you. You are so close now, your thrusts becoming erratic and desperate.

“I’m getting close again,” you warn her, hips thrusting like a madman into her pillowy tits. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Yes, do it!” she urges, squeezing her tits tighter around you. “Paint my tits with your hot cum. I want to be covered in it!”

Her dirty words push you over the edge. With a guttural moan, you explode, your cock pulsing as thick ropes of semen spurt out and splatter across her chest. She aims your cock so that each shot lands on her breasts, glazing them with your essence.

When your orgasm finally subsides, you collapse back in the chair, chest heaving. Karina releases your spent cock, admiring the mess you’ve made of her tits. She scoops some of your cum onto her fingers and licks it off with a moan.

“Mhmm, you taste even better on my tits,” she purrs, sucking the last drop from her digits. “Such a good boy, giving me exactly what I wanted.” She stands, leaning down to give you a deep passionate kiss, sharing your combined taste.

Before you can plead for more, she breaks the kiss. “Now it’s time for the main event,” she says, rolling onto her hands and knees. She looks over her shoulder at you, ass high in the air. “Come and claim your prize, tiger. Stick that big cock in my ass.”

Despite having cummed twice, your cock has already begun throbbing at the sight of her magnificent ass. You kneel behind her and rub the head on her slick folds, coating yourself in her juices. Then you notch it against her puckered hole and start to push.

“Oh fuck,” Karina gasps as you breach her tight ring of muscle, “You’re so big. Stretching me so good.”

You groan as her ass clench around you, hot and velvety soft. You grip her hips and start to move, slowly at first, letting her adjust to your size. But soon you are pounding into her, hard and fast, just the way she needs it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Karina wails, taking your pounding like a champ. Her tits bounce and jiggle with the force of your strokes, the lewd sight spurring you on.

Unable to resist, you reach around and grab her melons, kneading the soft mounds and pinching her nipples. You use her tits to your heart’s content, tugging and twisting her sensitive peaks as you rut into her from behind. The dual stimulation has her writhing in ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing as her ass milks your cock.

“I’m close,” she warns, voice tight with impending release. “Fuck me harder! Make me cum on that big cock!”

Your hips snap forward like a piston, hammering into her ass with brutal force. Karina’s ass clenches even tighter around your cock as her lips spill a string of curses.

“Oh god, I’m cumming!” she screams, back arching as her orgasm overtakes her. Her ass spasms around you, her inner walls rippling along your shaft as she comes hard.

The feeling of her clenching and fluttering pushes you over the edge. With a roar, you slam into her one last time, emptying your balls into her ass.

“Fuck,” you growl as you erupt, painting her walls with your thick essence. Jet after jet of cum spurts from your slit, flooding her ass and leaking around your shaft.

You keep your cock buried in her for a moment as you catch your breath before pulling out, letting a waterfall of cum pour out from her now gaping hole.

It feels like every bone in your body has been turned to lead, your breathing ragged and shallow. You collapse, finally broken after three continuous fuck session.

As you lay there on the cold floor contemplating what the hell has just happened, Karina’s face hovered into view, looking too energetic for someone who has just gotten their asshole stretched loose.

She leans in, hinting at a kiss before pulling back with a wicked smile. “You know we are not done yet, right?”

-

In this series, I intend to focus purely on smut. There won't be much plot, just 99 percent smut. Some dialogues and sceneries might not even make sense. But that's the point. Because it's pure fantasy.

[kooyabooya]

ENTROPY

karina x m reader

14k words

“It’s a stupid bet, Karina.” 

Karina lifts an eyebrow, only at certain points in conversation where she thinks your opinion is highly invalid. 

“No, it isn’t. You didn’t even let me properly explain,” she tells you, “All I want is a favor. Not a bet.” 

“It’s still asking a lot from me when I’m already dealing with your bullshit.” 

She sighs, leaning back on the counter. You’ve got a hand to your hip and an expression on your face that says: “fuck off six ways back to Sunday,” That’s how these usual briefings go, the quick dump or fill-in of whatever the fuck is worth sharing in each others’ lives. 

Instead, she raises her hands up in surrender, lips pulled inward. “Fine. Would it be better for me to come back to you on this sometime later?” 

“Can I suggest not having you bother me ever again?” 

A snort, then a cackle is what she gives. So, you roll your eyes because you know that it's always, always a tell-all for disaster. 

“Oh honey,” she says, patting your shoulder while you look over to see her running off to do her own thing, “You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time. You just haven’t seen it yet.” 

–

To bring things up to speed: you didn’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you brought Karina along as your roommate. 

At first, things were great. 

The living styles were well complimented. Separate rooms, similar schedules, the usual activities you’ve done together for fun. Even the chores were assigned (though by second nature and good habits). This small space was well put to be a slice of home away from home whilst going through the ranks of college. 

She invited some of her friends and classmates over from time to time; some of which you had a partial interest in. Sometimes you’re out with Karina’s setups, other times she’s the one that’s out and about while you were holding the fort down. For the most part, life was easy having your best friend since middle school hang around with you. 

Still, no issues to mention whatsoever. 

But then- 

“Do you have a minute?” 

It’s 8 pm on a Saturday and Karina’s coming to you for her regular yaps and endless rants since the girl just talks and talks and talks. 

You curse at yourself at times for always being the listener.

“Yeah,” you say, closing your laptop on the kitchen island when she rounds the corner, coming to your side. “I don’t have anything, so I’ve always got time.” 

You’re hoping that it isn’t anything out of the ordinary; from the looks of things, all signs seem to point that way. She’s in her sports shorts with one of your (stolen) t-shirts - the collar cut off highlighting her shoulder - hair tied up and in glasses, you automatically assume that she isn’t going anywhere. 

“Remember when I brought up that thing?” 

“What thing?” 

Then it hits you: that thing. 

You had your fingers crossed that she would forget about asking you for whatever she needed you for. Sucks that she had a good memory - not only that, you’ve made yourself reliable for her so many times before; turning her down was simply an impossibility. 

Not all heroes wear capes, sadly. 

Karina slaps your shoulder, easily seeing through your mask of sarcasm. 

“Don’t act dumb, genius. That ‘thing’ was just coming along with me for once.” 

Her brows furrowed, the corners of her lips tracking back across her cheeks. You can’t say no let alone ignore the poor girl. 

“You know me with outings,” you reason, sensible. In most cases like these, Karina comes to you out of others to bring up her issues, her dilemmas; her self-inquisitions, as she would like to call them from time to time. And usually, they’re straightforward. This should be an easy cakewalk. “I’m all for it, but what’s the point when you force me to be more sociable when you’re dragging me around?” 

“Because maybe you’re the biggest pussy I’ve had the misfortune of being with.” Karina huffs, arms crossed and face left in distress. She examines you so closely under her microscope that it’s borderline invasive - but you don’t tell her that. So you twine your fingers in between each other and return the laser-focused stare she’s giving you, taunting almost along the lines of - look, if you’re gonna be convincing, you gotta do better than that. 

All she does is throw a shoulder shrug, awkwardly -  dropping them so fast that you’re putting everything in your willpower to not notice the subtle bounce of her chest. 

Her palm faces up toward the ceiling, hoping for a response. You purse your lips out to spite her. She has to deal with your bullshit head-on, tragically. 

“It’s always the work, gym, eat, sleep, do more work at home, and repeat. All the fucking time. So bland and-” 

You tilt your head the more her insults fill your ears. 

“You disgustingly piss me off.” 

Her fingers press on your forehead when you give the subtle eye smile and smirk combination, finally pushed over the edge now she doesn’t want anything to do with you. She paces around the kitchen and you can see her eyes dart over at the corner. 

She won’t leave you alone. 

Not until she gets what she wants. 

Besides, you’ve learned that Karina isn’t very good at persuading people to do something. Though eventually- 

“Why didn’t you just say you’re inviting me to go out for a night?” You ask, knowing that the bluntness is one of the few ways to bring Karina back around once she’s done with her tantalizing tangents. “You wouldn’t be here going crazy if you just told me-” 

“Because you’re the one who can’t seem to get it through your thick-ass skull in the first place!” She exclaims, first underneath her shirt that reveals some of the skin on her waist, the ends of her panties now apparent the more her boxer shorts keep slacking off her hips. You can’t afford to stare. You know you can’t. 

The recurring cycle of interest: keeps coming back to haunt you. 

You concluded or accepted the fact years ago that Karina was never meant to be yours. Yet- she would always come to you whenever she had boy problems or wanted your opinion on what she should wear or do with every single one of her crushes she ever had throughout her life, hiding the fact that you wanted to be one of them at some point. 

All those wet dreams, fantasies, the fake situations of romance you’ve deluded yourself into - those kinds of things had to be channeled into something else to fill the space. 

You’ve kept it cool. Sometimes, in between the bleeding weeks, where she’s roaming around the house in the shortest pair of shorts, the tightest of tank tops, the curves way more present when she’s light on the balls of her feet, you eventually broke and resorted to that trusty old lotion and sock combo behind the door to your room. 

With a girl dressed like that, and those tits filling up your brain- 

(You’d be committing perjury holding yourself back for as long as you did.) 

“Okay, for the last time,” says Karina, hands stacked and her feet crossed. “All I ask is for you to just get out of the apartment for once, and have some fun. Is that hard?” 

You shake your head. “No, of course it isn’t.” 

Karina nods, content. She takes off her glasses and puts it on the marble counter, her pretty lashes batting with those violet-black eyes of hers. “There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” 

And there she goes, tapping your forearm while you nod in agreement; does a little hop in place like some cute bunny, her shirt loose and flowing and moving everywhere. She’s such a fucking bitch. So shameless. This girl’s attitude will be the death of you. 

She’s shaking her fists up in the air, doing some cha-cha move. The shirt isn’t doing her justice for her fucking breasts. 

Then she leans in, close. Her breath grazes your face and neck. She scrunches her nose while you’re ‘shooing’ her away; aware of the message and her point. Karina then steps back, tying a knot to her shirt, making her figure a lot more apparent. By some crazy form of timing, you turn your body towards her, freezing in place while the shirt molds around her chest, her waist - you’re clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth behind your lips since you wonder if she’s doing it on purpose. 

The imagination. The possibilities. 

“C’mon,” Karina says, reaching for your hand and tugging it, tilting her head up and angrily pouting. For fucks sake, the slightest resistance of pull makes those mounds bounce in place. You’re sick and twisted; she’s the sole reason to blame. “I want you to be my plus one.” 

“Had I not already said yes?” You’re asking, swearing under your breath. The ‘plus one’ role is a direct translation to ‘hey, i’m going to get fucked up tonight, and i want you to be there on standby to carry me home or even dd, okay?’. You remember from past experiences that it also means that being with her is a dice roll of what kind of Karina you have to deal with: the kissy Karina, the pissed-off Karina, the Karina with the ‘carry me home with the eyes that say fuck me until I can’t walk’ attitude. 

Sigh and roll your eyes back, it’s burned into your memory anyway. 

Putting it in layman’s terms wasn’t gonna cut it. Being honest isn’t gonna change her mind. You could get the King of England to threaten her for a price on her head and she’ll still find a way to get it overturned. 

As nicely as you’d want to be, it can only hold for so long. 

Karina isn’t the kind of person to throw you into the fire right away -no, she’s smarter than that. 

“You did,” she says, shaking her head side to side, moving her shoulders along since you’ve put her in a good mood. You’re trying to decode the action to the expression, connecting the dots possible if she’s fucking around or being genuine. Give into the preaching and encouragement that if you did go with her you’d have your fun with someone like her carrying half her energy - okay, you have a type; nothing wrong with that, but still. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts already?” 

You have a hand up along with your mouth open; Karina’s a bit dense to think pragmatically. 

“What’s it gonna take with you to get off of your lazy ass and live life? When was the last time you and I went out together and did some dumb shit? That was when you had that thing with- who was that one girl? Winter? Or was it Giselle?” Karina carries on, trailing off with you walking not far from her. 

She pulls the hair tie out of her head - after what it seems to be five minutes since putting it on - her head moves to let the messy locks flow and pool behind her back, stretching her arms out before turning left and into her room. You stop at the doorway when she turns around, arms braced to the frame, smirking. 

“You said you weren’t doing anything, right? And you don’t have work until next week, right? So that automatically means that you’re free for the weekend?” 

“Well, yeah. Don’t forget that you went out with me and Ningning for that boring ass movie. So please, if you stop giving me shit for this, can I at least get ready before we head out?” 

Karina groans. “Ugh, why are you so fucking difficult to work with? I’ve set you up with three of my friends so far and only one of them has gotten close to getting in bed with you.” 

“Maybe I’m complicated,” you say back, turning the other cheek and thinking about that specific time not that long ago when she gave you the double thumbs up before being dragged by Winter onto the dance floor at that club near the school. 

“Complicated people don’t put their hands behind their back and let the girl get all touchy with them,” she teases, stopping in the middle of your doorway, shirt off and all she’s got is that jet black bra with the thinnest straps you’ve ever seen on her collarbones, but she doesn’t stop there: “Might I add that you wanted to try your luck into dating again and- hey. I know that kiss with Winter was the best one you’ve had in a while.” 

Karina smiles at your confused expression, hitting a pressure point. You’ve folded for girls before. She was there for some part of the fun. It’s a weakness; playing to your ideal characteristics and all she has to do is play the matchmaker and watch the magic happen. She got close. Almost. The support was unwavering, but you’re still searching. 

You don’t take long to get yourself situated, putting on whatever essentials you felt was right. Karina took a little bit more time to get ready. You know how she is: every part of her outfit has to be thought-out and well-layered if means of raising the ‘down to get fucked’ meter up past the 100-point scale. Sometimes it takes five minutes, other times it takes hours. 

She walks out of the hallway in a simple outfit. A grey tank top and baggy jeans that nearly cover her feet. Her brown leather jacket was the finishing touch draped around her arm, wrist, and fingers shining in her typical jewelry. 

The makeup was light too, a soft blush applied but the main culprit was her lips - and man, they have no right being that plump. 

“You’re staring.” 

A blink and a smirk here. An eyebrow raised soon after: “Are you saying I’m being rude?” 

“No.” 

It doesn’t register in your mind that she’s all up in your space the next second, holding your breath when she looks up to your chin. 

“Is there something that you want to tell me?” 

“Karina-” 

“C’mon, you’ve thought about me that way at least once-” 

“Fucks sake Karina, you’re delusional. I would never. ” 

She nods with a devilish grin, tilting her chin up, humming. You’re breathing out of your nostrils when she backs away, heading over to the door to put on her shoes. Everything that this woman does makes you reconsider the consequences (but hey, you’ve imagined what it would be like for her to wake up in your bed, wear your clothes she won’t think of returning unless you fuck that bratty attitude off her tongue.) A woman like her who can do it all, and you’re holding her jacket once you and her step out of the apartment and close the door. 

Most people would give their praise and high regard for putting up with her for this long because you’ve held out longer than anyone would have imagined. 

You’ve dealt with her energy all these years, the countless shenanigans that you have gone through with her since high school, and occasions where she shouldn’t have dragged you in but still did anyway. There’s a tolerance that one can only take so much of with Karina, and you always fail at that. (Always.) 

She’s too good to be real. 

Later, she’s on the phone, calling and texting her other friends that she planned on meeting up with, waiting out in the front yard while you’re keeping her close - like what a natural bodyguard would do with their assignment. 

“Are you wearing my jacket?” asks Karina, pinching at the pelt. “I was gonna use that for later.” 

“I look better in it,” you muse. “But I’ll give it back to you later when it gets colder.” 

“I’m gonna need it later for my look.” 

“That look you have right now is gonna get you fucked.” 

Karina gives you the same tilt of her head; this time, there’s a slight twinkle in her eyes that looks like the lightbulb just went off in her head. You’ve lit the match within her or signed someone off to their demise waiting for them in the next hour or so. 

She bites down her smile, her ego inflated. “Guess we can put that as a separate bet between us, then.” 

–

Well. 

Fuck.

You realize right away that going out didn’t seem to be a bad idea after all. 

Plus, it’s only been roughly two hours since Karina convinced you to help her out and tag along so now you’re here: a half-full cup of her go-to and watching the sight of everyone having their fun with one other person or in a group. She, on the other hand, has a guy with her - breaking down the awkward wall and playing the act of softening up with the blaring music. 

It’s a steady groove, music flows in her body so elegantly. 

The ambiance alone pounds your eardrums, eyes occasionally getting blinded by the flashing lights coming from the DJ’s stage, dancing her heart away and letting loose because it’s the weekend. She’s not the only one, too. Her little entourage surrounds her, dancing along and giving their attention to Karina - each one of them attractive and dazzling to look at. Karina was never one for the limelight, but once she’s got something going, it never leaves her. 

You can catch yourself getting sucked in the moment you laid your eyes back on her. 

The law of attraction: embodied by Karina. A phenomenon that you’ve learned happens on a weekend basis. Everyone that knows or has met her for the first time, is automatically influenced by her which doesn’t take much for that to happen. Some are joining in for the vibe, while others are trying to lean into her ear and get her attention that way, let their bodies do the talking, and see if she’s willing. 

Bad news, this girl is. You’re treading dangerous waters carefully. 

Moment by moment, every single guy who tries to approach Karina retreat in dejection and defeat. You can see it in their heads hanging in shame, the slanted lips, some make a last-ditch effort to bring her back to the bar for another drink, only to be stopped with the simple raised hand of hers, friends coming along as reinforcements to stop the inquisitions. 

Her eyes lock on to you, watching from afar. Like a lighthouse; a signal and a haven for her to find comfort in. She motions you to come to the dance floor; and to that, you raise your glass in earnest, insisting that where you are right now is fine. 

You keep staring, sipping. 

She’s fixed up her top again to where the curves are much more present than usual. 

So you decide to down your bearings, hoping that the thought of Karina could be swallowed down with ease; her damned smile, head tilts,  the swaying of her body (along with bouncing in some places without a care in the world) to the upbeat tunes until she’ll decide she can’t do it anymore. 

At some point, she’ll have to come get you to join. 

And you’ve accepted that it will happen sooner or later. 

Your shoulder gets bumped by one of the people making their way through on accident, diverting your attention for a second. Then- 

Karina’s out of your line of sight. 

Next thing you know- 

She taps your shoulder, tugging on your shirt. 

“Hey-” 

The words you were going to say were: ‘hey, what gives?’ or ‘something wrong?’; but for some reason, you’re left in a stun lock - a trance. There’s also another thing that you realize right away when she has her arms slithering around your middle and up your shoulders. 

She looks around as you track her head movements, checking for something - ensuring that the coast is clear - you can start to get an idea of what she’s trying to do. Your brows furrow, thrown off by Karina’s stoic expression. It’s impossible to see or understand what’s going through her head, but she nicks her head back towards the dance floor, and you instantly get the message. 

“Need you in here, now,” she mouths, but you tilt your head down to hear her repeat it. She then pulls onto the floor while you’re also surveying the crowd, seeing if there was anything fishy. 

Karina guides your hands around her waist, noticing her fingers twitch as they graze your forearm, hinting that something was off. You’ve been near her before, but not like this. She then bumps into a few people standing behind her, prompting you to pull her back towards you - pressing her body, hand now to your neck, chin resting on top of her head- 

You can deduce that this is not her usual self - the reverberating bass pounding into your bodies and hers serving as this sort of proxy to dance more and think less. 

She scratches the ends of your hair right above the nape, irises burning into your face. You assume that this was the favor that she was talking about: going to the club with her and having a good time? Why the fuck did she have to make it sound so complicated in the first place?

“Stay close to me, okay? There’s this guy that’s been trailing us since we got here. I just need some time - help me out, please.” 

You look over your shoulder, Karina centers herself with her hands cupped around your neck, peering over as well. The strobe light blinds your vision for a second before turning back. “Wait, how can you be sure?” 

“Trust me,” she tells you, expression flat, serious. “You’ve got a good sixth sense about these kinds of things anyway, you’ll know.” 

“But-” 

“Isn’t that the guy you mentioned just now-” 

Karina’s quick to get a finger between your lips, darts her eyes out then onto you. The indication alone confirms all of your suspicions. You can’t even see the poor guy, not when the flashing lights are giving you nothing but snapshots amongst the silhouettes and shapes in the dark. “Look, be cool. You’re safe with me. If he gets close I’ll get in–” 

“No wait- it’s fine. Just leave him alone,” she butts in, leaning her head against your chest so she can hide her face. “This is already good, okay? You did great.” 

You cradle the side of her head when she looks up, tongue caught between her teeth slightly. “No, I want to see what was his deal-” 

“Can you shut the fuck up already?” 

“Karina, I-” 

She pulls your head into hers: locking lips, derailing your train of thought. 

You make a sound in her mouth in response to the confusion, but it stops the bickering you two were doing a few seconds ago. She could feel you pull away, but leans her head up back for more, claiming your lips through the kiss; you swear that you and her aren’t that drunk yet. 

It shuts you up, alright. A moment of reprieve that doesn’t give you any time to think because fuck, this girl is making you second guess every single choice you’ve made in your life up till this point, wondering if you’re ever going to take your golden chance or give Karina an earful when you and her get back home later. 

Your fingers dig into the dips of her lower back, her hands on your cheeks, overloading your senses with her lips, giving you hard teeth and a swiping tongue - no time to think or catch up. 

The rest of the world fades out from your head, nothing between you and Karina putting everything on the line in terms of her feelings - almost like the roles had been reversed with her struggling to believe you had a thing for her and you letting your actions do all the talking.

You’re not thinking about the amount of regret you’ll have once all of this is over. Friends just don’t kiss each other out of the blue. No. Karina fed you the false belief that you’d do anything she’d ask you to do, which is why you’re doing this with her. You think this is all a dream, but you sense everything; that diminishes the present thought right away. 

You’ll give as much passion back to Karina, because it’s what you would do for her regardless:

Follow her lead, and listen to what she says; there’s always something with her that you’re blindly agreeing to. 

Karina pulls away for a moment to breathe, next thing you know her tongue slips past against yours, and your grip on her body becomes a lot less pleasant since she’s unleashed that craving hidden within. 

You touch her teeth, smiling. Her forehead gently rubs against yours, breaking the kiss, when you notice it in your peripheral: 

A girl with a hand to her mouth.

One girl next to her with her hand wound up in her hair, in complete shock. 

The third girl behind the two nodded in approval with a sly smirk. 

Yeji, Ryujin, and Yujin: Karina’s other cute little trio, watching their lovely friends finally have their moment together. 

You look back at Karina, rubbing her bottom lip with her finger, internalizing the taste of you. 

Then the realization settles in. 

“That guy backed away from us,” she tells you, “but I gotta say, you’ve outdone yourself.” 

You glance over to see Karina’s trio watch as said guy turns his back into the crowd, retreating away. 

“What’s the matter? Speechless?” she asks again, finger happily dancing along your skin, and your hands aren’t moving off her body. You’ve never been shy with her, except this one time: right now. 

“Never with you,” you answer, matching her smug expression. “Never.” 

Karina hides her true intention again for a second, knowing that it’ll wither away the more she acts like this. Right, she can say one thing, though her actions are so easy to read from the minute she’s invaded your personal space. 

This girl is bad news in everything.

So you hold your gaze with her, wondering, connecting the dots. Speculating how long she’s been planning for this to happen, to be like every other guy that’s ever tried to get her in their bed or between those legs. Even so, she knows you’re not simple to break, and that’s where she’s got you. “I knew you had to be sure somehow, just didn’t think you’d go this far.” 

“Desperate times, desperate measures.” Karina eyes cross slightly as she stares at you, thumb grazing along your chin. “You were taking too long for my liking.” 

Liking? Surely not. 

There’s no possible way she could-

“What the hell does that mean?” You ask, staring back, tongue tip between your teeth. Your breathing starts to shallow. 

Karina leans into the side of your head, amidst the noise of the speakers and funneling her voice well in your ear canal. “It doesn’t make sense to me, you know. How we’ve known each other for this long, and we haven’t thought of even trying it at least once.” 

She knows where she’s going with this - all those times you’ve ogled at her hoping that she wouldn’t notice - or all of those times where you’ve talked about everything that had to involve life at any given point. You’d hoped that you dodge the question for a little longer. 

Karina’s friends managed to crack it out of you a while back, remembering it well. Her touch on your body has gone gentler, never breaking her gaze on you.

“How come you and I have never hooked up with each other?” 

You freeze. Feel the warmth spread across your cheeks; it’s an immediate catch, and you were praying silently that this was a dream. 

Exposed. Is what you are. 

Though Karina doesn’t falter here. Her eyes shimmer in the dim lighting. Wistful. You’re giving her enough time to figure out where your head was leveled at; like she would understand whether you wanted this or not. 

“Honestly, we could’ve.” You admit, with a sharp inhale. Hoping that the answer alone is enough for her sake. “Like- god, it would’ve been so easy. I wanted-” 

“Is it because you and I are just friends? That’s complete bullshit if that’s what you’re sticking with. I’ve seen you look at me that way before, or with my back turned; goes to show that you don’t have what it takes to get what you want, but I do.” 

You pull her close, and that gets her flustered. 

Both of your hands are on her face, leaning on her, stopping right at the lips, watch her eyelids flutter in anticipation. The thrumming of your heartbeat pounds between your eardrums, until she looks at you dead in the eyes, sliding her hand lower and lower, quirks her eyebrows once her fingers lay land over your pants. 

Your throat bobs, swallowing on nothing. The lightbulb sets off in her head. 

“Would you look at that? Oh my. Honey, you’re just like the rest of them. Try to deny it all you want, but you can’t get the thought of using my body to get yourself off. And guess what? I’d let you.” 

She’s got a key charm in being forward. And you find it to be so fucking sexy; saying things like that with no care for who hears, keeping it blunt and straight to the point; she could talk her way out of a speeding ticket and she really could. Karina was simply being herself, you could point the culprit in the alcohol or maybe her friends, but you’re still caught in her crosshairs and the window of escape is closing fast. 

You don’t do anything to resist the pair of hands at your neck and the seat of your pants - or the fact that she’s yanking your head back to meet hers and you hear all her friends squeal at the mere sight of Karina getting her chance. Everything about this is sensational, a new thing to adapt and learn by the minute. 

Here, when she lets you pull away: “You can do better than that, sweetie. Tell. Me.”

You’ll tell her everything that she wants to hear: how you’ve had a crush on her since high school, how you’ve managed to stay by her side after all these years, the fact that you couldn’t jeopardize what you already had. Besides, the risk of losing her as a lover and a friend was too much to bear, that she isn’t the kind of girl to have sex with because you love her and that will be the end of it all. 

Sooner than later, you’ll tell her that. So to suffice, you say: “I could’ve, believe me. We just never did.” 

From that alone, Karina shakes her head, neither rejecting nor accepting. Her wrists slack behind your neck, bring her waist closer until you’re able to lace your fingers around your arm. You’re nervous at what might be going through her head right now, gnawing your inner lip to keep your mind occupied. 

She looks you dead in the eyes, a twinkle behind them: full of inspiration, desire, hunger, want. 

You kiss her again, because you believe that’s the only thing right to do. “How bout this,” she says, giddy and sultry, “Why don’t we find this out for ourselves?” 

–

This wasn’t the first time you’ve been in this position. 

And certainly, it won’t be the last, either. 

You’ve put up with Karina’s bullshit for as long as you could remember: from carrying her on your back after a long night out to those times of sleeping on the couch since she complained her bed was too stiff and decided to use yours. You can think of one instance of every emotion she has, nothing but fun memories in those moments. 

However, you’ve never been like this with her. 

Until tonight. 

You catch yourself failing miserably in keeping your guard up with Karina. Not when she’s taking every red light as her chance to kiss you in the car, her hand sliding under your shirt and grazing your pants shamelessly. Not when you’ve pressed her tits up against the elevator door and flipped her around kissing you once more so that the camera guy can see, hear her giggle and hum at this new and improved version of you that she’s created. 

It’s all a rush for her, the way you can’t let go of her past the door, pin her hips against the kitchen counter, peel off the layers of clothes starting with her jacket, grasp her breast held captive by the tight holds of her tank top. You raise her on the marble so that she can match your height - make her feel taller, build that ego up, give her the false impression that she’s the one having fun.

Most definitely on the fact that you’ve got her tank top off in record time, gawking at the immeasurable amount of skin along those luscious valleys you’ve classified as her breasts. 

Karina’s head goes sideways, inquisitive. She sees you have your sights set on the prize, all within arms reach. “That’s cute, you’ve been eyeing these babies ever since I moved in, god you’re not that hard to whirl around.” You have your fun at her neck while her fingers are working fast at your pants, sliding her hand underneath the elastic of your boxers- 

“Jesus baby,” she husks, appalled with the curl of your fingers along the length. She thought the bulge earlier was already apparent enough - oh how wrong she was, looking down at the newly claimed prize. “Since when the fuck were you hiding this from me? This is not the same cock I hear you jerk yourself off with now and then-” 

“Just one of my few surprises,” you cut her off, jolting your hips forward when the grip around your girth gets a tad bit tighter. “Believe me when I say this, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” 

Karina wets her lip, biting. 

She’s getting used to the new feeling of this. Of you. Her small hand holds you in place, trying to find the right words to describe or end with. You’re trying to see how far she would go - how much could she take; then, she drives another nail into the coffin: “Fuck. You’re like- really big.” 

You grin, since that’s got enough weight in the words to inflate your confidence through the roof. She twists her hand around while you’re peppering her face with your lips, over and over and over, until she’s completely broken you down and all signs seem to be pointing in that direction. 

You hear her hum in approval, sighing in relief, whisper these praises laced with your name. And when she says your name, genuinely, it comes off in a moment of seriousness - hallowed even. 

She’ll make you plummet into the depths of hell, or raise you to the golden pearly gates above; no matter the difference, you’re falling for one of two ways with her. 

It’s also putting you in a bad position because you know her experiences, what she wants, the mere basics of it. You pull her hips as she twists her hand by reflex, like it has a mind of its own, pumping your length. 

You hate how good she is at working you up. The wonders in sleight of hand: where to curl her fingers, how fast she should handle the strokes, the press of her thumb down on your tip, studying it while trying to figure out where to even start. 

“It’s not even fair at this point,” she tells you, sly smirking while you see her eyes fall halfway, softly laughing as she sees your knees buckle and hit the cabinet beneath her because you can’t respond properly. “You’re gonna take care of me so well. Using this to fuck my brains out.” 

Her smile goes even wider when your head falls back involuntarily, giving Karina the window to leave some marks of her own across your chest. 

Her ankles rest at the back of your thighs, leaning forward to get her other hand on your throbbing shaft, paying attention to your balls, weaving them between her fingers, dividing and conquering to no avail, to turn your mind into a puddle. 

“It’s gonna look so pretty in my ass,” Karina whispers into your ear, leaving more kisses behind, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “I bet I could make you cum with just my mouth, my hands. Maybe I’ll give you a tease, spread my legs and let you slip inside right here, since you’re so fucking hard that you could knock me out with this cock, hm?” 

Oh, what in the actual fuck- 

Right out of the gates, this girl is forcing you to be head over heels - to submit and bend to her will; she knows what to preach, her words alone fulfilling every single fantasy you have in the book, to take what’s hers and feed you that overpowering urge above all: to simply ruin her.

Unpredictability is something that Karina takes pride in: going slow at one point, then faster the next, dragging and shortening your breath in every stroke until the pressure becomes too much. 

She nods at her handiwork, sliding off the counter and pulling you by the dick across the apartment. That alone makes you snap and pin her - grab her by the arm and spin her around - press and bend her body over on the couch for a quick second. 

You pull her by the hair and shift her head; forcing her to lean up for a kiss. Flush your hips with hers where the weight of you might make her crumble right away. 

You almost feel bad about it, but that thought gets quickly diminished, because Karina knows how much she can handle. She wants to be taken rough, split apart, worship her body like it's some new testament you’ll reflect on in adoration, have her cunt fucked so thoroughly by you that she’ll come crawling back craving for more. 

“How long have you been waiting for this?” Karina grins into your cheek, running her hand up over yours greedily grasping at her tit. “All those slutty things I kept telling you, seems like you wanted some of the fun as well, huh?” 

Okay, she’s not wrong at all. You’ll bank that on the fact that she has most definitely heard you jerk yourself off at night, or the fact you’ve seen her walk out the shower naked but pretend to look the other way. With all those stories of her escapades, part of you wanted to join along now and then. 

So you give her mercy and lift yourself off from her, watch her glance over her shoulder when you’re following her to your room, fingers to the latch of her bra, the garment slipping off and falling to the floor. Her back is hypnotic to look at, and you find yourself chasing after her for another go. 

“This is gonna be bad for you,” she giggles, holding her by the door frame while your hands have a mind of their own, freely roaming across the canvas of her perfect body, sliding up and down and feeling the untouched territory yet to be claimed. “Can’t even stay away from me even for two seconds.” 

She sticks her ass out, dips her head down when you get a hold of her mound, the flesh alone having its little weight to it, graze your thumb over her nipples, pinch it, kiss the back of her neck, and leave another mark. You are going to take your sweet time with her; use your teeth, your mouth, your cock. Anything and everything in your arsenal to make Karina yours. 

It starts with the letdown. Now, we’re at a shuffle - a waltz, a sloppy waltz - until Karina spins herself around while you settle at the edge of your bed, hike up to your hips, rest them there, forearms on shoulders, kissing you once more. 

A gentle moan slips out of her mouth when you finally start indulging yourself in her fabulous tits. Seeing out the amount of fun you are going to have: licking, kissing, biting along the perfect skin. Your mind can’t seem to register the fact that your hands were made for holding them; the fit alone, it feels so nice. 

Fuck, it’s even better once you realize she’s so responsive to the touch. That alone prompts you to add oil to the fire and drop the intimate act for something more primal, hungrier. She does this little shimmy with her upper body, moving her breasts around for your mouth to be caught in between them like two mushy pillows molding around your face. 

Her hand slips under and grips around you again, the friction causing you to bite down on her skin. A fair trade at least - a two-way system - you touch her, she touches you. 

“God, I think I know why you held yourself back with me for this long,” her words heavy and just coherent enough to understand, “maybe I convinced myself that I couldn’t handle you.” 

You laugh into her breasts, her hand on the back of your head, tugging while she hears the hums. 

She sighs, relieved. Like there’s a weight finally off her shoulders. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” One second later, she pushes your head away, jaw slack, eyes clouded with lust, drunk on the taste of her skin, your hand sliding lower and lower from her waist, the warm surface getting even hotter when you reach her panties, grazing the lace. 

“It’s unreal, I don’t even have to tell you to say anything-” she sucks in a breath at the feeling of your fingers soaking up her slick, swipe your thumb upwards across her clit. “You win baby. I’ll let you have your way. I promise.” She tilts your head up for a kiss, grining her hips down, forcing the groan from you down her throat. “I can give you everything you ever dreamed of having.” 

You don’t even know where to fucking start. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you say, hitting the tip of your nose against hers; get a light-hearted laugh out. “I’ll make you regret them.” 

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me what’s going through your head right now? With me on top? I’m all ears.” 

It’s even worse when you see her hand slithering down from her tits. Lower. Lower. The influence already affects you when she brings your hand around your cock, slowly tugging along as she treats herself to such a sight. 

That said sight of Karina playing with herself; sighing, murmuring, tilting her head slightly as her breath shudders at the sound of you groaning whilst doing the same thing with yourself. You see the damage, the marks, the places where you’ll leave more bruises than before. 

You just have to- fucking- look. You have her in such a state that you have never imagined yourself being in, and now that’s realized right in front of your eyes. 

So you tell her exactly how you’ll fuck her. What position she likes the most, where does she want you to take her, how much you’ll twist her mind into becoming more desperate for you and your cock, when you’ll make her cum, rail that poor cunt of hers until she’s sobbing in the filthiest fucking mess possible. 

“I’d be sinning,” you tell her, admittedly. “If I didn’t say that you’ve never imagined me fucking your tits unlike now. Better yet-” 

“And let me guess, you were hoping to God that there was at least somebody out there who could fulfill that desire for you, right?” Karina interrupts, hand still in between her legs, watching you shamelessly jerk yourself off. She sighs, “So original. I think you deserve more than that.” 

Uhm- well- okay, yeah. 

“What, too weird?” You ask right after, breathless, your shaft throbbing around your fingers a tad early for your taste. “Ouch. I get it. It’s fine.” 

“No, no, no,” Karina sighs, licking her lips. Her eyes shine through yours, a supernova unraveling. “I think we can settle with this. You fix me, I fix you. Deal?” 

Who’s to say that there was a chance Karina had the same vision as you? 

–

It’s a freeze-frame moment when the realization hits you for the first time. 

You’re seeing, but still having a tough time believing:

The sight of your cock being swallowed up by her tits, tongue laving at the tip, her hands compressing her chest inwards so that she can hold you there - focus on her lips and listen to the soft moans all lovely and adoring. Your poor cock: leaking with precum mixed with spit and when it’s all slicked up, you’ll put her on her back and make her press her breasts together, slip right back inside the heat and press into the friction. A gift from the heavens, you think. God, you’ll praise and worship them for as long as you live. 

“Shit,” you barely manage, rasping, like it’s some epiphany, as if this was new for her. “Karina, that’s incredible.” 

Her eyes dart at you, lashes flickering. The subtlety alone is near cute, even when her fingers dig into the skin of her tits, pinching at the nipples, tongue hanging out as some of the spit starts to drip over into the cleavage. 

She lowers her mouth right above the tip, seals it around your thick cockhead lightly. “Really?” 

You clench your jaw a little tighter, “God,” you huff, tensing up your hips for the thrust, fucking into the pressure, stare as she moves her tits downward to meet in the middle. “Fuck, yes.” 

“Don’t you suppose that this is good for me as well?” She then asks, dazed. 

“Why- fuck. Why the fuck are you asking me?” You rasp, tone gentle the next second. “Judging how hard you’re pressing, I hope that you won’t let that go to your head.” Karina’s face lights up with excitement, tilts her head down into your hand, smirking as she hears the stable breathing. Her brown eyes - like her tits - are soft, easy; her plump bottom lip sweeps the head of your cock once again. 

She hums as she stares. Chuckles at the mere buck of your hips. Cute. 

“Hmmm, maybe I will,” she accepts. 

You scoff, mixed with relief and with disbelief because Karina’s tits are fucking unreal and to top it all off she’s sucking you off while your cock is held captive between them; though you’re stuck in a hypnosis and that’s the only sensible reaction of Karina that you could give her. “Karina,” you’re seething, “Jesus, Karina-” 

She moves her chest in this side-to-side motion, wiggling her tits like it’s some shameless dance move, proposing. “What’s the matter, baby? All that waiting and you can’t hold it together?” She asks, arms moving inward with her elbows at the bottom line - her drool dribbling down her tongue and into her cleavage in this messy waterfall. “You wanna cum in between my fucking tits, hm? Right in the middle? Paint them white over these red marks you kissed all over-” 

The sound ripping from your throat is an indication of the first layer of your inner wall being broken down. It’s just for show, but she’s taking it literally. She has a knack for talking filthy. Here you are losing it. Her hand holds you by the base and pumps you - rubs your balls for good measure, pushing, soothing, encouraging - and Karina’s eyes shimmer while her mouth shifts, something more shrewd, vicious. 

“You fit so well here,” she gasps, “God, I wonder how it’ll feel when you stuff up my tiny pussy-” 

Your head falls back and you’re swearing. Clenching your fists while your elbows start to slide back. 

“Karina,” you say again, because it’s easier to speak than think. “I’m- I’m,” 

Her lips pout, shaking her head, disappointed. “No. Don’t,” she sighs, “Don’t you dare,” she says next, “please, I want it inside, inside me - in my pretty little pussy, make me feel good, so full, want your - mmm,” you see her eyes close, biting her lip at the idea, whining, “you’ve dreamt of cumming inside me - breeding me, knocking me up for fun-” 

This girl is something else - good on you to match up to her craziness - and you’re biting your lip along with her as well, watching her hand slip under to her clit while she holds your dick between her tits, thighs shaking as she spreads - it’s ingrained into your head, the sight of it. She wants you to breed her, or whatever is remotely close to cumming on her - and Karina will keep on asking for your input of all these things she’s projecting, leave it up to interpretation before acting on it. You’ve never thought you’d see yourself be like this, let alone have Karina act this way all for you. You’ll keep pondering about it long after you’ve had your fill - or her having her fill - it could go both ways for all you know. 

Still. The girl keeps moving. 

“Oh my fuck,” you slip out, different sayings all preaching the same message, “that feels so fucking incredible,” which isn’t enough to describe the present state of things nor does it fulfill the bare minimum of everything either but for Karina’s ego and with her smirk - because that’s how it always was, just feels right. 

“You’ve never said anything about it, but you’re obsessed,” Karina taunts. “This mouth, these tits, they’re all for you - you could have me any way you want,” she keeps her hands moving while her head sways from one end to the other, sighing as her tongue stops at her teeth. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you so desperate to fuck a slut like me and claim her like she’s yours.” 

She presses inward with her tits. You feel your shaft swell even harder. A lift up, then a drop. Repeat. You’re tensing every muscle in your waist as hard as you can. 

“So?” You ask weakly, huffing. “So what, okay- shit. You-” 

Next thing you do is pick up right where you left off. Thrusting into her tits and feel your pace fluctuate to the point that it’s gotten so dirty as you’d imagine fucking her cunt could get, hips smacking skin on skin, into the softness of her breasts, wet sounds and gasps let out through every slap. 

“Right there, cum,” she mutters, irises foggy, straight out of your wet dreams, leaning her neck forward with her jaw hung open so that you can fuck yourself straight into her mouth, look down at your wobbling hips - throbbing and twitching as she drinks in the sight of you nearing that edge. “Fuck my tits like that, cum all over them, wanna feel, wanna hear how much you want me.” 

You say her name, or at least try to. The sound incoherent, broken, and apologetic; just downright humbling. The best thing you can do is make good on your part. Your cock is so deep in between her tits, the messy slick and warmth enveloping you wholly; fingers doing the little adjustments, a rough measure of how her pussy will wreck your dick later - dragging her breasts across the sensitive edges, the lightest touch of her fingers at the top, flicking the underside. It’s too much, too fast, too- 

“God, Karina-” 

“Oooh,” she beams, ecstatic. “Oh my god.” 

Soon you feel yourself spilling everything in the tightest spot of her breasts, mouth slacking as she watches in awe of your cock tensing and erupting your release all over the skin of her chest, her throat. Her chest heaves along with the pulsing, shaking her tits soon after, gently pumping out the remnants of white, squeezing. It’s unholy what she’s doing, eyes glassy and spit slathered across the space, face flushed and chin dripping with your cum; and she lowers herself to where your shaft is in line with her face, pursing her lips - like some money shot - full and getting an appetizer of what’s to come. You ghost your hand to the back of her head, cautiously - the hand between her legs treats to her clit, the other wrapped around your shaft and smacking your dick on her cheek, so it’s a definite premonition come to life: her on her knees and dreamily staring at your dick while she’s soaking up your white hot mess. 

“Aww, well that’s too bad. Couldn’t hold it at the first go. Shame on you,” mutters Karina, grinning and letting out a soft pitiful laugh. 

“You’re fucking insane.” 

“And what are you gonna do about it?” she asks, patting your ass in comfort. She massages her tits right in front of you, the webbing of cum spread across the inner parts of her mounds, in the gap of the heavy curves. “I can’t believe you- God, you came so fucking much.” 

You keep on staring while you’re fighting for the last bits of consciousness left - like if you hit the canvas in a boxing match, and your coach helped you up with counting: one, two, three, four, up, up, up, up; you’ll try to focus on the breathing, take your time, continue to blink while the rest of the world fades out from your vision and all that’s there in the middle is Karina’s sluttiest form fully culminated. That’s all you see: the right angles and curves of her breasts, well sculpted and detailed that you’ll keep observing in reverence. It’s so much to process, the first glance at the scene of the crime, all over Karina, unreal and cute and just- perfect. You’re not dreaming, the nerves in your body overloaded with stimulation to properly conclude that Karina was purely made as a vessel to take limitless loads of cum in and all over her outright beautiful body. 

“Well-” You sigh heavily, a weight lifted off your shoulders. “I’m kinda- ugh. Yeah.” 

But Karina still has you on the palms of her hands, deciding what’s enough on her terms. 

Because one second later, she spreads your legs more and slides her tongue up from your balls and upwards against the underside, then to the tip. She giggles at the feeling of you snapping to attention from the contact, and you sharply inhale at the sensation, ready for more. 

“You should know that you have to deal with me the right way,” adds Karina. “This was just the start.” She then glances down to her fingertips, picking up the cum smeared all over her chest and licks it up, eyes fixated on you with interest while alternating the treatment of her lips to her fingers, to your cock. “Still speechless about my performance?” 

You roll your eyes, flaring your nostrils. “Do you do this with every guy you get in bed with?” 

Karina laughs at that, batting her lashes. “Not really. But if you’re gonna shut me up, make sure it’s with your cock.” 

Her brows light up in excitement when rake your fingers into her hair, pull her back, at the point where she surprisingly gasps. You flick her hand away from your cock, notice her mouth drop lower, expecting you to do as she says: plug one hole up for the time being. 

You don’t do that, though. Your mouth finds hers and it fills the space for the moment. 

A moment where the intimacy reaches the sweetest. In all the right ways, you’re defying her wishes through actions rather than words. Karina forces a high-pitched hum down your throat, clashing her teeth into your face, catching your lip in the midst, pulling. You’re sure she wants to see you hurt - she’s already done that - two can play at that game. 

Your hands slot themselves at the slides of her face, gripping, eager mouth keeping you focused on the task at hand, and it’s second nature when her arms wrap around your neck, lifting her up from the floor. She won’t stop giggling, laughing; the noises a spell of their own, cursing you - an unsaid promise that you’ll give to her even when you’re flipping her around back on the mattress. 

The weight of you two creaks the springs when Karina rolls herself over and finds herself on top of you. You feel her slick folds glide up your leg, the stickiness mixing in with your skin and tainting. Her conquest doesn’t stop there, until she settles the heat over your cock, grinding, the ache alone enough to make you writhe in wanting. 

She flips her head over to one side, breaking the kiss, falling back down for more. Her eyes and yours are both out of focus, panting heavily. She’s fucking unbelievable, a red herring that you had all the wrong ideas for, finally seeing the truest form of her nature being awakened. 

You say something remotely close to your thoughts. 

She looks at you, astounded. 

Sighs. 

You feel her hand cradle your head tenderly. 

Meets your forehead with hers and smiles. 

Tracing a finger to your jaw, pinching the skin soothingly. 

“You’re going to ruin me,” Karina whispers, kissing your cheek. “I hoped it was you to be the last one I try my luck with.” 

You close your eyes because it’s the truth.

Your hand shoots up for the headboard behind you, gripping. She helps grab the other arm and pins them together, captures your lips once more and it’s too intoxicating to fight against. She continues to grind her hips against yours, feel the heat of her cunt and her folds glide above you.

The teasing is insufferable, feeling her warmth wash you over. 

“I’ve waited long enough.” 

The words are at the tip of your tongue, but they won’t come out. 

“I’ve always wanted it to be you,” she carries on, softly laughing as you’re crumbling underneath her weight. “And now, you- and this cock, is mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.” 

She dips your cock in, sinking, slowly, the inches getting swallowed up in increments. You moan in response, kissing her collarbone. You’ve imagined what it would be like, prayed that one day you’d get the glorious chance to be inside this wonderful heat. It’s something else, like a long reward that you’ve sought out for but it's the fact that Karina’s tight cunt is practically making you choke where you could die and be happy with it. 

“Jesus fuck,” you groan, the fibers in your body tensing. She just sighs, hoists her hips up, and sinks back down again. 

She does it again - and again, and again. The movement alone; painstakingly slow and increasing with every passing second. Her hips seizing yours in place and fucking you like that’s all she’s meant for; like this opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime moment and she’s going to take every advantage of it. As if she feared you telling her to forget everything about tonight and move on like it’s normal. 

“It’s not even fair, the way you make me feel,” sighs Karina, yielding to the pleasure, head dipping down. “I should’ve known - fuck, I really should’ve known. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 

Your hips match hers in a dance, unable to answer. Unwilling to, actually. 

Because you’d rather save the words for later and live in the present, her body consuming you at a rate that shouldn’t be humanly possible. The way she rides on top of you, head and shoulders and arms invading every corner of your being, reigning fire. It’s so fucking good - her cunt, the warmth, the feeling, it’s impossible to think straight and there’s a part of you in the corner of your mind that’s jumping for joy. Walls tearing down from within, freeing you. 

If you’re not careful, it’ll be even worse when you’re guzzling your cum into her tight pussy before she even has had the chance to fuck your cock properly. She’s holding you hostage, bounding your hands with hers - a beautiful punishment to undertake. The moans and sighs alternate, complimenting one another as she continues to jut her hips forward and back - back and forward. “I hate you,” she’s saying, “I hate how you had the fucking guts to not let me try.” 

God, it really is pathetic for you. Karina figuratively digging her fingers into every nook and cranny of your brain, making you want - want to lose it, to be desperate, to be the version of you that’s capable enough to go beat-for-beat with her. The groove of your index and thumb settle at her waist, picking up the pace, use the drag of her cunt across your cock, but Karina grasps your jaw, mouthing an ‘ah, ah, ah’ as a consequence for your eagerness. 

Slamming her ass back down, she chokes an utterance out of you, “Fucking- Karina-” 

And Karina hums, letting her lower half do the work. “What’s wrong?” she asks, all innocent and sweet that doesn’t cover her sinful act. Perfectly calculated in her head of how she’s working you up. “What are you gonna do? Fuck me?” 

She took the words right out of your mouth. 

She finally managed to break you. 

You’re not nice about it, either: breaking the little restraint from her hands, hooking your arms underneath her shoulders, turn her over and yank her hips back to yours. 

The gasps. You want more. 

Karina tests the waters again when she breaks free from your grasp, forcing you to push her down on the mattress by the head, claw your fingers into her scalp, raise her up to flush her waist and hold her mouth open, taking account of the newly formed arch in her back - the perfect fucking bell curve. 

She sighs again. Not in shock, no. In relief. Satisfied, ecstatic, excited, as if she’s finally getting what she wants - for you to have enough and put her in her place. “God, yes. Fuck yes. Fucking do it. Do it! C’mon-” 

You slip yourself inside and shut her up for a second, feel her walls clamp around your throbbing member. “Like this?” You ask, snarling into her ear cuff, pulling her by the hair where she won’t even complain about the pain. “Want me to be like this with you from now on?” 

“You have no idea,” Karina says, nodding frantically, the arch of her hips moving backward against you. “How much I needed this from you.” 

Pushing your buttons and limits is what she does best. 

So you grab her by the throat, give a sloppy placement of your mouth at the corner of her lips, forcing her to look up and back. The angle where your cock is embedded rips her apart at the first slam. You’re going to fuck her. You’re going to fuck her ruthlessly. Fuck her cunt so bad like you’ve always wanted to the day she accidentally flashed herself at you and the image of her figure burned into your memory. 

She keens when you bottom out completely, filling her up to the brim with your cock. Stokes coming along easier and easier as the claps of skin start to reverberate around the walls of your bedroom -  thrusting up into her cunt and not giving a fuck about the rest. 

Karina tugs at your hair, finding a place to hold herself together, hips stilling and moving and eventually freezing. You’re up to the plate now, dishing out the real work far better than her. 

You are going to break her. Pound her ass. Bounce her cunt all over your dick, listen to how her breaths shudder and choke in the stale air with every upstroke. Your mind is working double time - trying to figure out how much she can take, where are her sensitive spots and capitalize on the weak points. 

The hints are in her body, you take that into account. She takes in every inch with her cunt, eyes fluttering shut, sighing in complete adoration. Willing to let you pour every ounce of your being onto her; these feelings, these frustrations. A place where you can let your imaginations run wild, her body a sacred temple built to ruin, in all of the harmonious sounds that come out of her mouth, occasional screams to let you know what you’re doing is right. 

When she cradles the side of your head again, staring forward at the mirror placed behind your bed along the wall, she grins, watching you place a kiss along her throat, leaning her head back to deepen the angle, runs a hand over yours, treating itself to one of her tits. “Baby, you can never have enough of me.” 

That earns her a firm grasp of your arms, pulling her closer. She shouldn’t even be able to speak, let alone have this much fun. You push her down back on the bed, hands sliding down her waist, stopping at the indent of her hips, dragging your cock out and yanking her ass back in. “Do you ever fuck your girls like this?” 

“Are you always this talkative during sex?” 

“Not exactly,” her breath hitches when you bend over the swell of her ass, swipe your finger above her clit to tease. “I’m eager- ah, eager to see,” she bites down her moan when you spread her sopping pussy lips apart, feel her leak even more on your cock, “how far you’d go-” 

You’re getting there, that’s for sure. 

Now you’re wondering what else you can do with her hips up and knees spread wide. 

“Stay right there,” you say, pressing a hand down her spine to deepen the arch, her ass getting bigger at your waist, palm full of fine skin, “and let’s see.” 

Her fast shriek registers a second after you smack the surface, the sound mimicking the crack of lightning. 

You slap her ass, impale yourself back in, watch as your cock disappears from your view. 

Karina’s face dives into the sheets, muffling her scream. 

“Big mistake,” you growl, seeking your fingers into the roots of her hair, snatching. You spank her again. 

And again. 

And again. 

The punishment and reward: you smack her ass, fuck into her, feel her body blossom with heat and flushed with crimson; handfuls of sheets or pillows or anything that’s within reach. Her cunt gushes even more, the throaty moans hiccuping as her body convulses more because of the blowback, and she’s still smiling.

“God- oh my God,” Karina pants, fingers back between her legs as she throws her ass back now, completing the motion. “So forceful.” 

You cup the sides of her waist, press your fingers over the blotches of red, skin rippling each passing second your hips flush with hers. The sounds of the smacks and the gentle creaks of the bed are already erotic enough that the spanking in between is just the cherry on top. 

All that Karina has to do in this situation is to simply ride out the wave of pleasure, body slightly jaded through every firm impact of your cock weaving itself inside her cunt, the vice closing in every millisecond. 

“-so good. You’re so good,” spits Karina, eyes cinched shut; a sharp inhale when you reach that spot, body seizing. “K-keep using my cunt, just like that- wanna feel your dick ruck up inside-” 

You’re grasping at her neck, deepening the angle. You want to melt into her, to feel everything. To fill her mind up with nothing but just you. 

“You did this to me,” you grit, pulling her back on your cock; listen to her stutters for an answer. “This is all on you.” 

But she giggles, head swiveling forward and face first into the pillows, but her wailing still breaks through. She comes back up for air soon after. Whatever she can get, “The plan, baby,” she’s telling you, “It was all part of the plan. Always.” 

That twists your mind in more ways than one. Her mouth, her hands, her body, all within arm's reach. You grasp at her tit again, drive your cock back into her cunt, her moans inching up an octave, and the shimmer coming out of the corner of Karina’s eye gives you all the more reason to keep going. 

“I’ll break you until you’ve had enough,” she breathes out, and her face contorts to something remotely pained, “please, for the love of fuck- don’t stop bouncing my pussy on your- fuck!” 

It hits you when you’ve finally worked Karina to stop talking. Breathless. Heaving. You sigh out of rapture, the feeling washing over you like you got dunked in water. A new enlightenment fully realized - the full manifestation of her creation, and now she’s on the receiving end of it.  

You give her two more firm strokes inside her; drag yourself out and rub your tip over her folds. She wiggles her ass in response, tempting you. Having another fill as her cunt clenches your cock once more, slick soaking up your skin until the friction is almost seamless, siphoning every part of your being just for her. 

This angle is dangerous: the way her stomach is nearly flat, you find your bearings above her, pushing in, too deep, holding her by the hips, anchoring, knees apart and at an angle where they would be if she was kneeling on a pew. Instead, you grab one leg, then the other - get your palms full of her waist in supplication as the undersides of the peak of her thighs meet yours, curves rippling on impact, thrust your cock into her open cunt where you’re rubbing all of the spots at once, gliding in so easily where the pace alone really sets itself into place. Her hand tends to one of her tits, hopelessly keeping it in place while you’re hooking her back for that arch and cementing the motion as your own. The time of teasing and playfulness is over, as you’re chasing to make the aches in her body a problem and sever all the nerves in her system until you can visibly see her limbs shudder - fuck out a complaint from her lips to make you stop and not act so greedy about it; but then your mouth is back on her again, hoping to sedate her thoughts as you let your lower half keep up the work. 

Then you sigh something between the space of the lips, an undertone: “You like this, love?” 

A nod is the only response she can give you, mouth parted and unable to coherently say anything in particular, so grab her chin. 

She’s getting there. You know. You can tell. 

“This pretty little cunt, all for me, no?” 

Karina mouths a ‘fuck’, biting her lip immediately after. 

“I’ll use you in whatever way I want.” 

Her hand swoops over and presses your forehead against hers, whining in pure euphoria.

“Let me hear you,” you urge, hand moving up so you can close her mouth, lighten up on the pressure so that she speaks a bit more freely. “I want you to say it.” 

Karina locks onto your eyes, searching for the right words in your head, and you know she will- 

Because Karina knows that she’ll be good for you. Your perfect little fucktoy. A personal slut who’ll always let you have and you know this well enough since it’s taken you this long to finally see it. “Oh baby it’s all yours, it’s all yours, it’s all yours. I promise- I promise that it’s all yours and it’s no one else’s- I promise it’s only yours just keep fucking-” 

To say that your ego was inflated would be an understatement. But man, words can not describe how much you wanted her to scream it out at the top of her lungs. 

Your groaning matches hers in volume, the bedframe not too far off to scrape across the hardwood. You’re pretty sure that the springs will bounce along with your bodies as well. 

“So pretty,” you praise, kissing her. “I’m gonna have this cunt all to myself. Whenever. Wherever-” 

Karina’s head lolls back and up, clutching onto your neck for added support. Heaving as you’re fucking the air out of her and makes her voice have this raspy tone attached to it: “That’s cute. You won’t have to look very far now that there’ll be one room for us to share.” 

You pause, blinking. Your finger moves a wisp of her hair away from her face, her eyes widening and fulll with sparkles. Never in a million years, you’d find yourself to be in this position - inside of Karina - but here we are. No need to move fast when you’ve done the hard stuff already. 

“So what,” you say, picking up a stable pace in her cunt, saving the dissipating control where you can. What’s there to be left said when it’s already shown? “It’s bad news for you because I’m gonna have you every chance I can get.” 

“You wanna let the whole world know how rough you’re fucking me? Be my guest,” she tells you, palm braced to your waist and moving her hips in this body-roll motion, biting her lip as the entity of sin returns in her mind, taking over. 

“I’m too good for you,” continues Karina, light-hearted and giddy, as if she’s not trying to milk every bit of you into her fucking pussy. “And here I thought I knew everything about you.” 

She’s right about that. Fortunately, this is more than just a dream. This is reality. You have endless memories with her as it is, and you’re positive that you’re excited to create more of them with her. 

“I guess you could say this is one more secret kept away.” 

A hand to your face, gentle. Loving. “My handsome boy.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“You are.” Karina breathes with an airy laugh, voice getting hazier. Cock drunk and fucked out of her mind. It’s working. “So hot.” 

“Gonna talk?” 

“Fuck-” she then sighs, hissing, and the smirk fades from her face, something more warm, languid, laid back. Her mind is gone. “Fuck.” 

You nod and give her a smirk of approval. Proud of your latest curation. The girl that everyone wants, only wants you. The beauty in that exclusivity lifts a weight off your head, and you’re far inclined to accept it head-on. 

“How bad do you want me?” You ask, biting down a kiss to push some life into her. Tears welled up at the corners, letting her feel every inch where you could take it. 

“I should be asking you, how far are you gonna hold out for me?” Karina purrs. “I’ll give you what you want if you let go first.” She tells you, pulling her body upwards and shifting the limbs around before you find yourself sliding back into her where the angle is at her cunt’s hottest point. A spot where you’d never turn back on. 

The pressing of the crease at her knees, legs pushed up high. Your cock is so embedded and consumed by her pussy that you’re having trouble staying upright. 

She then says this mantra - a phrase said differently but its message is very clear: “I’m all yours,” she wails, “I’ll always be yours if you let me- fuck! Only let me have this cock all to myself.” 

It’s happened multiple times before in your life: being wrapped around her finger. But this- this takes the meaning to a whole new level. Her body claims you as its own and you’ll surrender to that discovery for as long as you walk on this earth. 

The strokes keep going, the mindnumbing sensation coming to its fated end - that blissful release and last bits of pent-up feelings of Karina; her cunt a glove, sheathing your cock perfectly with every thrust, clenching around your girth to pump you out. 

You’ve already laid the cards on the table a long time ago or- even now, when she’s seen you in the most vulnerable state, fucking into the mattress so deeply and loudly that you’re not even worried about the potential noise complaint coming from the neighbors. 

She’s calling out your name. Just your name. Nobody else’s. Telling you how to keep fucking her. Hard. Fuck her poor little cunt until you’ve dumped every last bit of your load in her and fill her until she’s leaking out white between her legs. 

“Baby, I can feel you throbbing. Are you gonna cum? Gonna cum so fucking much- Please, I want it. I need it. Just- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

She loses first. 

And my lord, she’s fucking wrecked. 

You bottom her out and hold her hips in place, cunt quivering and her toes curl and feet in the air, moving with what little mobility they have left because you’re pressing down the underside of her thighs, yelping and wailing and screaming to the point she might break the fucking glass on mirror and windows. 

“Baby. Baby, I can’t fucking move- you son of a bi-” 

Karina’s pussy squelches around your cock, a new layer of slick added to the mix of spit and precum. You pull out halfway and rub her clit at an inhuman rate, feel her liquid sputter out, hit some parts of your body, squirting. 

She’s squirting even more when you’re slapping the head of your cock across her pussy lips, watch her body spazz out and tense up almost like she’s having a seizure or going into shock, blabbering complete nonsense and you’re kissing her harshly on the fine column of her throat. 

You could care less, because all you just want to do is fuck Karina, feel the glide of her cunt become even smoother than before. Read into how her body responds to yours and the mess just gets even more filthier. The sounds- God, the fucking sounds. It’s a perfect harmony. 

The pace steadies with the beat of your heart, thrusting your cock into her cunt and keep her figure moving until she’s able to gather her thoughts, finding the right words along the teeth to where she says: “cum in me, fuck your cum into me,” and the sobs compliments her heaving. “Please, I want it. Give it to me. I wanna be full-” 

It lights a fire under your ass, every ounce of your being finally collapsing. 

You’re managing where you can; burying yourself in the deepest depth of Karina’s pussy, cumming in the hottest point - and the senses and nerves in your body are contracting and expanding in all the right places- 

Your body and Karina’s: finally becoming one. 

Your cock and lips are the sole sources of connection to her as she coos at the multitudes of cum filling her pussy up. 

The embodiment of perfection. The tightness. So snug. You can feel it. Every fiber of your being let out through your release and her small little hole - holding your cock through the pulsing, legs frozen as your arms slither to Karina’s back, exhaling so hard that you’re certain one of your lungs might break. 

“That’s fucking amazing, baby. Oh, baby, keep giving me your cum - I need- I need it, ah. God-” 

You could feel your vision start to blur in and out of blackness, her whimpers and soft moans a gentle sonata, soothing through your high as her fingers grazing across your skin is enough contact to course electricity through you. And you rest your head against hers, taking asylum in the space above her shoulder, hips slowing and breath racked with exhaustion. Her hand rubs against your lower back, massaging the last bits of cum deep while the rest of her body goes limp, sweat glistening all over her skin as if she got baptized, finally blessed with the afterglow. 

“So much cum,” she’s saying, over and over, a prayer in itself, “There’s so much cum in me.” 

You release the restraints of your hands from her body, pulling on her side until her legs start to tangle with yours, cock still wrapped around her pussy, unable to leave or pull out. Her thumb swipes across your eyebrow, tapping the temple. Internalizing the events that occurred just now, reeling away from the pure emotions and the mere point of it all. 

At last, you and her are both drained. Like you’ve gone twelve rounds with her. You’re willing to go one more, because she’ll want that too. 

You’re then combing Karina’s hair down, patting the back of her head while she leans into your chest cavity and showers your collarbones with kisses. She nestles her face deeper when you bring her closer, swooping the sheets from beneath until it covers both of you. 

It’s comforting. This new home. 

It’s everything. 

“Don’t sleep yet,” you whisper to her, kissing her forehead while her eyelids flutter lazily. 

Her head tilts. There’s a slight shake on the ends of her fingertips; she brings them close to her face. You gaze down to see her mouth try to form a few letters - a word - only say nothing at the end of it. 

“It was always you,” she breathes, the projection alone a new belief to instill. Your face shifts to something confused, thrown off. But you’ve repeated and reciprocated the same thing even though most of it was unrequited. “Part of me was worried for like- the longest time, and now-” 

You hush her, her body sinking more into your touch, the warmth encapsulating her like a cocoon. The aches soon settle in and you let the pillowed conversations flow to a more interesting topic. 

–

When the next morning comes around, your mind is doing its best job to make you succumb to the inner machinations of your visions. The effects of the alcohol still present - which explains the partial dizziness, though your memory is kept intact. Most of it feels a bit smudged, like the faint image of a mirage of some haven out in the blistering heat of the desert. Soon your eyes are filled with the endless plane of the ceiling above, and you feel a whole lot lighter- 

The weight pressing down on your arm was no more. 

You arch your back, feel the limited mobility in your lower half, and inhale deeply. 

A prop of your elbow betters your view; realizing the sheets were off your body, your legs slightly spread apart, feel the shocking tingle of nails scratch along your skin, crotch surprisingly warm - not to mention wet. 

Karina looks up with a neat pop off the head of your cock, an airy laugh passing through her lips, slides her tongue up the length before she carries on with bobbing her head between your legs, cock hardening in the heat of her mouth. 

“Jesus fuck-” 

You feel her hand wrap around you, grinning, biting down a patch of skin near the base. She pumps you once, maybe twice, and tilts her face sideways when she sees your jaw slack and lips salivating. 

Well. It's one hell of a way to say good morning. 

“Aw, did I scare you? Well, you better enjoy this because I won’t be waking you up like this unless I feel like it.” 

That’s how all things go, unfortunately. The ways Karina wants you to do these favors of hers.

Except now-

You can bet your ass that you’ll love every fucking second of it. 

[ssivinee]

✧Original Visual✧

Irene x Aespa! 96’ liner! F reader:  In the industry, beautiful idols aren’t uncommon. Your beauty was on the next level, all the 4th gen knew. But what if a certain 3rd-generation original visual begins to notice you due to a V-live you did?

Word Count: 1.4k

Note: Simple fic since I may not be able to write much today🥲

Character Vision Board

Choi Y/n, the oldest member of Aespa, was known for many things. Her dance skills, rap skills, composing, and even music production. She’s even the older sister of TXT member Choi Yeonjun.

But if you were to ask the K-pop community and idol industry what she was known for, it was her visuals. Y/n had a powerful gaze, sharp jawline, plump lips, and currently, oxford blue hair that cascaded down her back, ending right above her hips.

One dull day, Karina and Y/n were in SM’s dance studio. It was their day off, and despite being happy about that, the two members didn’t know what to do with their day, so they just decided to go to the company building and chill there.

The two girls wore similar outfits: grey sweats, a basic cropped hoodie, and sneakers. They lay on the black couch, just staring at the ceiling.

"Unnie~, I’m bored~"

"Jimin-ah... so am I."

The two looked at each other as Karina laid her head on Y/n’s lap, trying to figure out how to make time go by faster.

“Wait, what if we do a live?” Karina jumps into action, going to get the company phone, “you finally came up with an idea after so long.”

“You could’ve thought of it yourself!” Y/n chuckles as the girl sticks her tongue out, returning with another phone.

They take a tripod phone stand, attach it, and begin the V-live. After waiting a few minutes for MY to join, they finally had about 5k viewers, so they decided to start.

“Hello, guys,” Y/n stares at the chat while her and Karina wave.

“AESPA’S VISUAL LINE?”

“What did we do to deserve your guy’s grace today?”

“Y/n and Karina’s duo is something I didn’t know I needed.”

“Clap twice if you wanna leave SM.”

Y/n laughed at the several comments she saw, especially the English ones. “You guys know how to make me laugh.”

“We were bored, so we just decided to go on V-live to talk to you guys,” the younger stated, and spam of hearts came from the chat. The two keep reading and begin to read some questions.

“What song are you guys obsessed with at the moment?”

“Spicy by Aespa,” Karina said, making Y/n look at her like she was crazy, “Okay, self-promo.”

“Unnie, that’s how it should be. We’re idols, man,” Y/n laughs at Karina’s statement, hitting her lightly as it was a habit when she found things funny. “Anyways, for me, it would probably have to be Unforgiven & Fire in the Belly by Le Sserafim. They killed it on their album.” Karina nods in agreement.

“Dance Unforgiven? Guys, I haven’t learned the choreography.”

“She’s lying~ She knows it from TikTok,” Karina exposes her in a tattle-tale tone. “Wha~, no way you outed me like that,” the younger shrugs, followed by a giggle. “Do it, unnie.”

“Fine,” Y/n gets up to go to the computer. She ensured everything was connected before playing a few seconds before the chorus. “You guys ready for unnie to slay?” Karina says, and Y/n begins to dance the chorus. Effortlessly, she jumps with a bunny-like hand, then turns her fingers into horns and repeats, doing the same steps.

Once she finishes, the leader goes, “See, I told you she’s a liar. She knew the dance.” Y/n sits back down next to her, slapping Karina’s shoulder, which causes the girl to act like it hurts.

The live went on for 3 hours, and a lot happened. The girls talked, danced, and even sang songs. Now fans had a compilation of them dancing to ‘Kick It’ by NCT 127, ‘Wannabe’ by ITZY, ‘Hype Boy’ by New Jeans, ‘Hey Mama’ by the SWF dance challenge, and more.

Nearing the end, they decided to take one final request, “Psycho by Red Velvet sunbaenim?” When Karina read the comment, Y/n rushed to the computer and played the instrumental version. “Wait, we’re singing to it as well?”

“Yes! I love this song way too much to not sing it.”

The two got in place, and once the song began, Karina focused on dancing while Y/n did the adlibs perfectly. Comments start to go wild over her voice.

“Y/n drank the SM water again.”

“Ain’t no way she hitting Wendy’s notes????”

“Sub-vocal of Aespa, everyone!”

Y/n joins in on the dance now, and the two begin switching lines back and forth, creating a live vocal performance of the song. The second verse begins to hit, Y/n gets hyped and raps, “Hey trouble 경따윈 없이 오는 너, I’m original visual, 우린 원래 이랬어 yeah.” Karina joins her in singing the iconic one-liner. Then the comments go crazy again.

“4TH GEN ORIGINAL VISUALS YUH.”

“Wha~ the rap suits her.”

“I need a collab with Aespa’s visual line and Irene.”

As the song ends, the two are out of breath and fall to the ground. The echoing dance studio now echoed with their heavy breathing, “Sorry guys, we went a bit overboard,” Y/n tells them as the two drink their waters.

“No, you didn’t. It was amazing!”

“I need a live stage version stat.”

“Joohyun-ssi would be proud.”

“I think that’s it for us, you guys. We’ll do a V-live soon with the other members,” Karina tells the chat, and as fans spammed bye, she ended the stream.

“I’m pooped, man.”

“Same.”

The two get up and prepare to head back to their dorms. Once in the van, Y/n stays on her phone while Karina takes a quick nap. She then gets a notification from Instagram, which she questions. That would only mean an idol was texting her, but it would mean they’re an idol she never spoke to before since they didn’t message her regularly.

Looking at her DMs, shocked was an understatement. The Bae Joohyun had texted her, and once she opened the chat, she wanted to throw her phone out of the car.

Irene texted, ‘Wow, Y/n-ssi, you're a beautiful dancer. Thank you for rapping my lines and doing justice to our song.’

...

BEAUTIFUL DANCER?!

Y/n and the Aespa members were reasonably close to certain SM idols, mainly female idols, due to Y/n, Karina, and Winter being in Got The Beat. One specific idol she never got the chance to interact with was the one who was texting her right now.

‘It’s an honor, sunbaenim. I’m glad it got your approval,’ Y/n sends. She was frantic, not knowing what to say, ‘An honor? Your sound so corny, c’mon.’ Before she could even unsend the message, texting bubbles began to pop up.

Oh dear, she saw it. ‘Y/n-ah. No need to be so formal. Just call me Joohyun-unnie.’

If you thought this couldn’t make it any worse for Y/n, it did. She freaks out and has to do breathing exercises to calm herself down.

‘Okay, unnie! May I ask how you knew about the cover?’

‘Ah, the clips circulated very fast, lol.’

Y/n smiled to herself. She was texting someone she thought was untouchable in the industry. The car stops, and she notices they’re in front of their dorm. “Jimin-ah, wake up, we’re here,” she wakes the younger in a delicate tone.

At another dorm, the older woman lay in bed watching the Psycho cover multiple times. “Unnie, do you have my sweater? The red one?” Irene heard Seulgi’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s in here on my chair!” She hears the dancer’s footsteps, and as Seulgi enters the room, she hears the Psycho clip, catching her attention as well.

“What are you watching?” The younger lay on her paid, peaking at her phone to see the familiar girls. “Y/n and Jimin did a cover of Psycho, even singing to it,” Irene shows her the phone, and Seulgi smiles at the two girls.

“I’m not surprised. They’ve always been excellent,” she stands up and takes her sweater. “That reminds me to text them soon.”

Irene says, “You think I can have Y/n’s number?” Seulgi looks at her leader with suspicious eyes.

“Sure,” Seulgi sends your number to Irene, but before she leaves, she asks the latter, “Can I ask why?”

“I just want to get to know her. Is that so bad?” Irene says as she adds your number to her contacts and in a sarcastic tone, “Right, that’s the reason, unnie.”

Irene rolled her eyes as Seulgi left. She wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to get to know you, but Seulgi knew her unnie too well to know that that wasn’t the only reason. Irene thought you were gorgeous, sexy, and very charismatic.

She’d never admit that to her members, though. Maybe she would after she and Y/n establish a bond.