#and weird shit happens without explanation

[deeokanee]

It's been a week or so after their fight (see part one for more explanation), and Bob and John still aren't talking. They aren't straight up ignoring each other, because they don't want to alarm the rest of the team, but all they say to each other are a couple of words of courtesy whenever it's strictly necessary to communicate with the other man.

On Bob's part, he's hurting. He is a little, well a lot actually, disappointed in John for shutting him out. He's mad that the other wouldn't have even told him the reason for his behaviour, hadn't he confronted him. He's pissed off that John didn't actually tell him shit, it was Bob himself that guessed what was wrong, and he guessed right, since John didn't correct him when he finally spat out the concern that had been eating him alive in the days before their argument.

Secondly, he's embarrassed as hell for revealing his carefully concealed crush on John to John, all because he was overcome with anger. He feels so stupid, catching feelings for one of the people he'd grown more attached to in years, his first male friend since God knows when and he fucked it up because he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about John.

Buried deep under these already stinging feelings, the thing Bob regrets more is that no matter how many times he had told himself that "John isn't into men" and "John will never look at me that way", despite his attempts to behave as rationally as possible about this whole situation, still a small, stupid part of him had hoped. That maybe it wasn't just a fantasy, maybe John could love him.

That's what he's ashamed of, that's what is making him avoid even looking at John whenever they unintentionally find themselves in the same room. That despite knowing better, he still couldn't control himself. That's why, despite being hurt, he still feels guilty of what happened, and more than anger now that things have quieted down, it's shame that makes him avoid John's eyes.

On John's part, he is emotionally paralyzed. The words Bob had blurted out in his face the day of their last real conversation have been echoing in his head since he heard them the first time.

"You've been a big fucking asshole to me for weeks"

Days he had spent digging his nails into his tights whenever he had found himself observing him, staring at Bob. Weeks he had spent punching every hard surface he was closer to, whenever he had caught himself wondering about Bob.

The images of the other man were burned into his mind. His usual sheepish smiles, his occasional snarky grins, the way his eyes narrowed with those expressions. His dark, wavy and unruly hair being always all over the place. His gestures, the way his hands revealed so much about how he was feeling. Picking at each other's skin when he was nervous, making wide movements in the air when he got excited.

He didn't only keep memories of Bob in his mind. He hadn't only remembered about his eyes, his hair his hands, his lips. But he had imagined. And the way, the ways he had done that had made him feel filthy. Not only because Bob was a man, even if the situations featuring the both of them he had sometimes indulged in picturing in his head, had sent shivers of both arousal and panic down his spine.

But because he had felt perverted, painting sinful images about his friend without him knowing. He had felt predatory, and it had never happened in his life before. He had always been a protective person, looking out for the people he loves. He thought his affection for Bob was nothing different from that. But it had turned out he was a creep, taking advantage of their closeness to feed whatever weird wave of lust had overcome him.

And while he was battling with this hell only he had created, he hadn't paid attention to what that was doing to Bob. He wouldn't even have guessed he had noticed his behaviour shifting so drastically, and only now he's realised how stupid of him that was. How could Bob not realise that something was wrong with him, when John was acting as if Bob's sole presence was a danger to him? He was an idiot for that, and a selfish one too.

"All of this just because I'm into you!"

His ears still ring, like they were when Bob screamed this sentence at him, whenever he replays that scene in his head. Bob was into him. How long has that been going on? Has Bob developed feelings for him at the same time as John did? Did he do it after? Did he do it before?

He finds himself calculating, replaying whichever old interaction of theirs he can remember in his head, trying to spot any clear moment in which Bob might have shown his interest for him. How could he have not noticed? He was so up in his head, so scared and ashamed, that he ignored the truth in front of his eyes. This awareness weighs heavy on his chest, and it makes his thoughts spiral uncontrollably. Because how could it be possible for Bob to be into him? He treated him shitty when they first met and went back to being a dick to him, all because he found himself caring too much about the guy. The knowledge that Bob's feelings are much more nonsensical than John's makes the latter's head spin, and he feels like he might puke from the motion sickness anytime now.

And something inside of him, a very vocal part of his consciousness, is deadly sure that he didn't notice this substantial reality because he would never, never even fathom that someone could love him again. Not after being the reason why he lost every person who ever did that.

"Grow the fuck up Walker!"

This blow at him didn't even hurt. Instead, it made reality sink in his chest, and it felt heavier than a mountain. Bob was so right about him, that it made John feel like he was as transparent as glass.

All this time spent burying what he felt for the other man deep inside of him, trying to suffocate feelings he was well aware of. He fought with himself for so long, and for what? Who was he trying to appeal? Who put him under this obligation to conceal a part of himself, so strong that John thought it would break him?

The only person who really cared about him being attracted to a man, about John being in love with Bob, was John himself. He hid behind the values he was brought up with, behind the family he had built with Olivia and then destroyed himself, behind what would the public opinion think of him. He hid, like he always does, behind masks of strength and anger and duties, when in reality he was the only judge who was still ruling on his life. He has always been, and that's the reason for so many of his unforgivable mistakes. For pushing people away and making them hate him.

His pride is his worst vice, not his ire. The aggressiveness is nothing but another pathetic costume he wears to appeal to whoever is watching him, judging him. The real, deep force that controls all of his behaviours, that has always been controlling every aspect of his life, is fear. The fear that one day, everyone will find out what a fraud he is. Like it has happened before.

And Bob saw right through it, even more than he probably had realised that evening, about ten days before. He made John realise how pointless this act has always been. How his mask is not tough, authoritarian, but ridiculous.

And John is ashamed of himself for making Bob realise this ugly truth about him.

The mortification, self-consciousness and remorse that fill the silences, the distance between the two men are so heavy that they've become tangible. Both Bob and John are mortified by how they left things off, regretful about what they've left unsaid.

They avoid each other not so much because they feel hurt, but because of how hurt the other clearly is because of them. Right now they aren't so different, but as always, they can't realise that.

But this resemblance between their inner worlds is what causes the smallest shift, after days of stillness. This similarity is the reason why, when Bob walks in the gym while John is training, he doesn't walk back out. It's why John fights the urge to run, and instead stays.

Their likeness is the reason why, after training in the silent presence of each other, John finally makes a step towards Bob. It's why he tries to play it cool, to tease Bob about skipping their sparring sessions, and fails miserably to sound nonchalant about that.

John's clear nervousness is the reason why Bob's answer doesn't come as a biting remark, instead he lightly mocks him. Something about John not being a very effective teacher.

The left corner of John's mouth lifts, in something that resembles the smallest grin, barely noticeable. But Bob notices. And when John invites him to show how shitty of a teacher he's been, Bob gets into it without any resistance.

They start out slow, careful, like they're afraid to go past grazing each other's skin, to really touch. But punch after dodge, kick after parry, they go back in that not-so-perfect sync, in that flawed dance of theirs that both of them have missed terribly.

The tension dissipates as their movements become quicker, the walls they built come crashing down as their fight becomes more intense. For a while, all they can hear is the thuds of their skins crushing against each other and their fatigued grunts.

Then, in an instant, the chaos stops. Their bodies freeze in front of each other. Bob has John's right fist tightly wrapped by the fingers of his right hand. John's left is still tightly closed besides his cheek. His eyes are as wide as ever, as if he's been struck by the most unexpected, breathtaking view ever.

It's Bob's face he's staring at, close as it's ever been. His dark hair, damp with sweat, is sticking to his forehead. His lips are slightly parted, as he rapidly inhales and exhales through his mouth. His blue eyes are locked in John's, and he refuses to release his gaze. And John is mesmerized by this sight.

For what feels like a while, the only sound in the room is their unsteady breaths mixing together.

"See? I told you, you're not that good." Bob finally utters. He's breathless, his voice rough and low. His lips are curved in a grin that looks too sweet to be genuinely coy.

John has never moved more naturally than now, when he grabs Bob by the shoulder with his free hand and draws him closer to him. He has never been more present with himself than when he feels Bob's chapped lips crush against his own. He has never felt so defenseless than now, kissing the man he's been desperate to kiss for so long.

He feels bare when his mouth is against Bob's. And he's never felt safer than this.

Bob has never been chosen before. He's not who people chase after, he's the one that they get stuck with. He's not even the consolation prize, he's a punishment.

Even now that he has somewhat of a family of his own, his brain is still wired to make him feel like he's not enough. Bob's default setting is hating himself, and he's defeatedly aware of that. The damage to his self esteem, crushed after years of abuse, of being an outcast, will be difficult to undo.

But now that John's holding him like he's begging him not to go, now that the man he loves is kissing him like his only source of oxygen is stored between Bob's lips, now these constant, awful thoughts feel less heavy.

Kissing John, Bob feels wanted. He feels pleasant. And he's never letting go of this emotion. He doesn't want to stop thinking that he's deserving of this, of being chased after, of being cherished. And John will never let him do that anymore.

[autisticlee]

that autistic feeling when social rules changed so suddenly and randomly and you don't understand why and everyone refuses to offer an explanation becuase everyone ~should just know why~, but you're the only person that didn't get the update.

do you ever see people do something a lot and assume it's fine and normal and acceptable and harmless, then suddenly out of nowhere when you (or even someone else) do it, it's now suddenly "bad/offensive/weird/creepy/a red flag/unacceptable" and you just get so confused and dont understand why it suddenly changed.....

[heavensportalithink]

May fuck around and start doing witchcraft and worshipping my partner (legitimately and with vigor) 🪽

[beeapocalypse]

got annoyed at robbie for fucking up a breaker and then got this event next cycle. im sorry man

[jupiterpilgrim]

Sovereign Desires

Wonyoung x Karina x Yuna x Sullyoon x male reader

word count: 15K

commissioned fic

Boredom doesn't seem to go away in the office. You think that one day you will get used to it, that day never comes. Slumped in your ergonomic chair, pretending to analyze quarterly reports while actually doomscrolling through an endless feed, you would give anything to shake things up in your life right now. Another Tuesday, another slow march towards the sweet release of 5 PM. Then your phone, lying screen-down on the desk amidst coffee rings and scattered pens, buzzes.

You barely register it. Probably just another Slack notification from accounting about the missing TPS reports, or a group chat exploding with irrelevant memes. You sigh, ready to silence it without looking.

But when you flip it over, it's not from accounting.

It's a DM.

There's a name.

And holy shit, not just any name. It's Karina. Yeah, the Karina. From Aespa. Except the contact isn't her stage name. It's the one you punched in years ago, still stubbornly saved under her actual name: Jimin. That old, familiar ache, that weird nostalgic flutter, tightens in your chest. Suddenly, you're not staring at sales projections; you're seventeen again, a sweaty, nervous wreck on some sun-baked summer sidewalk, every fiber of your being screaming just kiss her, you idiot, just do it, while you probably mumble something about the weather.

You blink, hard, because this makes zero sense. You haven't spoken to her for years. And the way it ended… a full-on, no-explanation ghosting after that spectacularly cursed attempt at a hookup. What a fucked day.

It wasn't even like you actually did anything. You didn't even get that far. You’d just managed to get her clothes off, lips still slick from making out, hands trembling as you lifted her onto your lap on that beat-up couch. The second your dick came out, she just… panicked. Froze up like she’d just seen a goddamn monster crawl out of your jeans. She let out this shaky, nervous laugh, mumbled something about a curfew she’d totally forgotten. But you know. Oh, you know exactly what it is. The sheer, improbable size of it. That sick, familiar twist in your gut as you realize it has happened again. You weren't even fully hard yet. Doesn’t matter.

She ran. Bolts like the place is on fire.

You can’t even really blame her (okay, maybe a little). You're always the weird, skinny dude, the one people probably figure is packing an innie until proven otherwise. And Karina (Jimin, back then), she has this effortless cool-girl vibe that just makes your brain short-circuit whenever she so much as glances your way for too longl. You try, so fucking hard, not to fall for her. Fail. Spectacularly. And then that one chance, your one shot to escape the friendzone, gets instantly demoted to a horror story she probably now dishes to her bandmates between grueling dance practices and sold-out stadium shows.

Except… she's actually messaging you. Right now.

hey

it’s been a while huh?

You jolt upright in your chair so fast your colleague in the next cubicle peers over the divider with a raised eyebrow. Her profile pic is pure idol perfection: full glam, hair in those impossibly soft, expensive-looking waves, eyes that are somehow both icy and flirty. This isn't Jimin anymore. This is Karina of Aespa, a literal K-pop goddess. The kind of woman entire nations fantasize about from behind their phone screens, and she’s DMing you, a random office drone, like you’d just casually bumped into her at a 7/11.

i was thinking about you the other day

kinda random but i’d like to catch up

you free this weekend?

No emojis. No awkward apologies or explanations. Just straight to it, like those six years of absolute silence haven't even happened.

Your chest feels tight, but not in a bad way. More like a champagne bottle about to pop. A million questions scream in your head, why now? what the hell is this about? but your thumbs are already a blur across the screen:

yeah

just tell me when and where

The typing bubble appears, blinks, disappears, then reappears. Teasing you. You wonder if she remembers. That night. That… thing about you. She has to. No way she’s forgotten something like that. Maybe she thinks you’ve… grown into it? Learned to manage it better? Maybe she's curious to see.

Then:

okay :)

I’ll send the details soon

looking forward to it

You stare at your phone screen long after her name vanishes, the glow of the monitor reflecting in your wide eyes. The phantom sensation of her weight, her presence, still echoes in your lap like a deeply ingrained muscle memory. The way she has of making any room, any space, subtly bend around her. The way you used to bend around her, orbiting like a damn fool, just waiting for her to look your way and actually mean it.

And now, impossibly, she's looking again.

—

The address pops up just after noon, no preamble. Just a pin-drop in Gangnam with a bar name you don’t recognize (some sleek little English mashup that screams exclusivity), the kind of place influencers pretend to discover and rich people keep quiet about. You Google it anyway. The front’s barely labeled, no neon sign, just this faint etched logo over heavy black glass doors, like you’re supposed to already know where it is. One of those underground cocktail lounges, dim and expensive and deliberately vague.

Of course she’d pick somewhere like this.

You get there ten minutes early, which feels both desperate and practical. The room’s all moody lighting and brass. Like stepping into a perfume ad: everything smells expensive. Candles flicker in tiny glass jars at each low table, and there’s jazz playing, soft but rhythmic. You start scanning the booths, heart ticking like a countdown, nervous in a way that feels kind of humiliating. You're not in high school anymore.

But then you see her.

She's in a corner booth, half-shadowed by one of those gold-bar dividers. Hair down, silky black and parted to the side, soft curls kissing her collarbones. She's dressed like she knew exactly how this would go: long-legged, crossed at the knee, thighs poured into a leather mini-skirt that barely creases when she moves. A sheer black blouse with little sparkly threadwork running through it like constellations, the fabric so thin it flirts with the curves of her bra underneath. Not scandalous. Not vulgar. Just perfectly engineered to hold your gaze. One hand’s around her drink, some golden thing in a faceted crystal glass, and the other’s thumbing her phone like she’s half-focused, tapping fast. She looks up just once—sees you.

Smiles.

“Wow,” she says as you approach, rising halfway, fingers brushing your wrist as she gestures for you to sit across from her. “You really came.”

“Of course I did,” you say, but your voice is almost inaudible. You clear your throat and try again. “Jimin.”

Her eyes widen just slightly. The smile twitches. Not fake, just surprised. “Haven’t heard that in a while.”

“Still your name, right?”

“It is,” she says, sitting back down, crossing her legs the other way, and you catch the flash of glossy black boots under the table, knee-high, sharp-heeled, definitely not made for walking. “Only a few people still get to use it though.”

You slide into the seat across from her, still trying not to stare, but fuck it’s hard. She’s… glowy. Confident in a way that makes you feel like you’re dressed wrong even though you picked this outfit twice and stood in the mirror trying poses before heading out. She doesn’t need to try, doesn’t need to check the mirror; she knows what she’s doing. Every part of her outfit, her body language, the tone of her laughter, it’s all loaded like performance, but smoother. Natural. She's grown into it. Into this idol thing.

You’re still staring when she lifts her glass toward you.

“Drink?” she offers. “First one’s on me.”

“You paying?” you ask, raising a brow.

“For sure,” she says, grinning. “This idol thing pays well.”

A waiter materializes like magic. She orders another of whatever she’s having, something citrusy with gin, you catch the word yuzu, and you mutter your preference like it matters. It’s one of those bars where they probably judge you for ordering a beer.

“Damn,” you say after a beat, glancing at her with a crooked smile. “So this is your idea of casual now?”

She shrugs, sips. “This is how I dress when I want someone to look at me.”

You swallow hard. “It’s working.”

There’s a beat. A silence that stretches long enough for your drink to arrive. Her eyes never leave yours.

“You’re still such a flirt,” she says, amused. “But you’ve mellowed out. You used to be way more nervous.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely panicking inside,” you admit, taking a sip that burns and soothes at the same time. “I just got better at hiding it.”

She laughs, and the sound is all warm honey. It hits some buried part of you, it fucks with you.

“So how’ve you been?” she asks, smoothing a hand over her thigh. “Besides taller, obviously.”

You snort. “You’re still taller than me.”

“By this much,” she says, holding two fingers apart. “And the boots.”

“Even without the boots.”

“Some things don’t change.”

You both sip. And then the reminiscing begins. You start talking about school, about mutual friends, about the time you both got high and watched bad dramas all night, quoting lines and making each other laugh so hard she snorted kimchi soup out of her nose. She acts scandalized when you bring that up.

“I told you never to mention that again,” she groans, burying her face in her hand.

“And yet here we are.”

“Blackmail. That’s what this is.”

The drinks keep coming. You’re halfway through your third when you notice she keeps checking her phone. Quick glances. A tap here and there. She’s not scrolling for fun, no, it’s deliberate. Controlled. You figure it must be work. Maybe her manager checking in. Maybe something about her schedule. It doesn’t seem suspicious at first. You’re too busy watching the way her lips wrap around her straw, how her hand drapes over the rim of her glass, fingers tapping idly. You wonder how many guys have sat across from her like this, thinking maybe this time I get to take her home.

You’re not even sure what this is. Is it a catch-up? A date? Just nostalgia? But she invited you. She dressed like this. She's been holding eye contact like it’s a game. You’re buzzed now, not sloppy, just loose enough to lean in, resting your chin on your hand.

“You remember,” you say softly, “That time you were at my house and we kissed?”

Jimin looks up. Caught off guard. But not embarrassed. Her smile is smaller this time. Realer.

“Of course I do,” she murmurs. “You tasted like lemon soda.”

“You ran. You ran before we could... You know.”

“I had a panic attack,” she says, surprisingly blunt. “Didn’t even realize it until I was halfway down the street. I thought it was… I don’t know. Too much.”

“Was it because of me?”

She’s quiet. Her eyes dip to her drink. Then her phone buzzes again. She glances at it. This time her face changes (just a flicker). A subtle switch behind her eyes. Something has clicked.

“No,” she says finally, meeting your gaze again. “It wasn’t you. Not really. And I really, really want to redeem myself with you.”

But she doesn’t explain. Just downs the rest of her drink in one go and flags the waiter for another.

You mean to press more. To ask what that meant. But before you can, her phone buzzes one more time. She doesn’t check it. Just flips it over, screen-down. And leans forward with a little smile, as if she’s about to say something intimate, something she’s been holding in for a while. Her fingers trail along the rim of your glass, close but not quite touching yours.

Then she says: “Hey. You trust me, right?”

You say it without hesitation. Maybe it's the alcohol humming in your bloodstream or the way she's looking at you; clear, serious, a softness in her expression that strips away the glamor and shows just a little of the girl you remember. “Yeah,” you murmur, letting the word settle in your throat, simple and solid. “I trust you.”

That’s all she needs. Her eyes flicker like she’s confirming something to herself, then her fingers swipe across her phone, firing off a text with no explanation. You catch the little smirk at the corner of her lips, not playful, not cruel… something more satisfied. Purposeful. She slides her phone back into her clutch and stands, straightening the hem of her skirt. Her legs look even longer when she moves. The heel of her boot clicks once on the floor.

“Come on,” she says, brushing a hand lightly over your shoulder as she walks past you. “There’s a car waiting.”

You follow, blinking through the slow haze of three drinks and a thousand unspoken thoughts. Outside, it’s colder than you expect, the air sharp against your cheeks, but the car is there, sleek and black, window-tinted with the kind of purr you associate with rich people and K-drama antagonists. The driver doesn’t ask your name. Just opens the door.

You slide in after her, trying not to let your thigh brush hers too hard even though she’s made no effort to keep distance. Inside the car, the seats smell like leather and faint perfume. Karina settles in beside you, adjusting the strap of her bag, checking her lipstick in the reflection of her phone screen. She catches you looking.

“What?” she asks, amusement in her tone, head tilting.

“Where are we going?”

She leans back, one knee brushing yours, fingers sliding into her hair like she’s trying to undo the tension at her scalp. “To an apartment. Somewhere we can actually talk without everyone staring. Somewhere more comfortable.”

“Is it yours?”

She shrugs, teasing. “Partially.”

“Must be nice.”

“You’ve got no idea,” she grins, and then something flickers behind her eyes again, calmer now, more vulnerable. “I meant what I said back there. About redeeming myself.”

You glance at her. Her knees are still crossed, hands folded loosely in her lap. She’s not fidgeting. She looks totally in control. But her voice is quieter now, measured.

“I really fucked up back then,” she says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I know I did. You probably felt… rejected.”

You hesitate. Then nod. “Yeah. I did.”

She turns slightly toward you, just enough to face you head-on. “And I get it now. It wasn’t just me walking out—it was me making you feel like something was wrong with you. Like you were some freak.”

You don’t say anything. The car’s too quiet. The engine hums beneath you, smooth, and the city lights flicker through tinted windows. You focus on her words, the precision of them, the way she’s not sugarcoating any of it.

“I used to think everything had to be this perfect fantasy,” she continues. “And I wasn’t ready for something real. I wasn’t ready for… you.”

You exhale slowly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Okay,” she says, "but I still want to make it right.”

The rest of the ride passes in that charged silence, the kind that isn't awkward but thick with implication, like something's about to tip. You’re not entirely sure what you expected when she messaged you, but this? This is surreal. You're tipsy and hot under your collar, knees bouncing slightly, wondering if you should be nervous, or excited, or both.

You settle on both.

The car slows in front of a tall, anonymous building with glass that reflects too cleanly to be anything short of expensive. A valet greets her with a nod. You follow her inside, past a lobby that smells like orchids and designer soap. The elevator is silent, smooth, rising so fast it barely registers.

When the doors open, she leads you into an apartment that looks more like a photoshoot set than somewhere someone actually lives. Polished hardwood floors, ambient recessed lighting, modern furniture in sharp angles and plush velvet textures. There’s a huge floor-to-ceiling window spilling moonlight across the living room, and a minibar tucked beside a long black couch. She moves through it like she’s done this a hundred times before.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she says, stepping behind the bar and reaching for bottles you can’t even pronounce. “Shoes off, if you want. The floor’s heated.”

You toe your sneakers off and sink into the couch, running your hand over the fabric absently. Your head's spinning a little now, and it’s not just the alcohol. It’s her. It’s the fact that she brought you here, into this private space, dressed like a fantasy and saying everything anyone would like to hear. The lines are blurred and blurring further.

She turns back with one glass, something crystalline and amber glowing under the lights. She hands one to you with a smile.

“What is it?” you ask, sniffing it. It smells like honey and something herbal.

“Something special,” she says, settling beside you on the couch. “It’s got a little kick. But it’ll help you… relax. Feel good. Get in the mood.”

You blink. “Get in the mood?”

Her smile doesn’t falter. “For tonight. For me. Just drink.”

You hesitate, but only for a second. You're already floating. Her thigh is pressed to yours now, warm through the thin fabric of your pants. You take a sip. It's smoother than expected, sweet at first, then biting, like cinnamon chased with a punch of something foreign. Your body responds immediately, heat blooming in your chest, your arms, your thighs.

“Strong,” you say, wincing as you go for a second sip.

“Mmhm,” she hums. “But you’ll feel amazing.”

Your skin starts to prickle, not uncomfortably. Just... heightened. Like everything is vibrating a little faster than it should. Your fingers twitch. You glance at her. Her pupils are wide, lips parted just slightly as she watches you drink.

You set the glass down, heart beating a little too fast now. “What’s in it?”

“Something that’s gonna make tonight unforgettable,” she murmurs, leaning in to brush her lips just below your jaw. Not a kiss, just a graze. “And I’ve got a surprise.”

Your pulse thumps. “Another one?”

She stands again, smooth and sudden, stepping across the room and pulling her phone from her clutch. She types something. A long message. Sends it.

Then she turns to face you again, hair tumbling over her shoulder, eyes dark and gleaming.

“They’re almost here,” she says.

You blink. “They?”

Karina approaches you again and sits on your lap, settling her weight fully onto your thighs. It's instant fire. Her warmth seeps through your pants, directly against the hardness already straining there, a painful, thrilling pressure. Her hands find your shoulders, fingers digging in just slightly, claiming the space.

"So," she starts, leaning closer, her breath ghosting over your ear. "About... that night. My little freakout."

You swallow, eyes locked on the curve of her neck, the faint pulse beating there.

"You're not the only one who knows about... well. Your impressive little toy downstairs."

A blush creeps up your neck. Toy? Little? It feels anything but little right now, jammed against her ass.

"W-what? Who else—"

"Shhh," she cuts you off, a finger tapping your lips. "No need to be ashamed. Not anymore. In fact..." Her lips curve into that slow, knowing smile you saw downstairs, the one that felt like she held all the cards. "It kinda got... rushed straight into my friend group."

Heat flares through you, hotter than the alcohol buzz. The drink, whatever it is, makes everything feel ten times more intense. Your cock gives a hard throb against her, impossible to hide.

"I... I don't think I get it, Jimin," you stammer out, feeling small under her gaze, even though she's the one practically draped over you.

"You will," she murmurs. "Soon. Very soon."

Right on cue, a crisp ding-dong echoes through the apartment. The doorbell.

Karina lifts herself off your lap with infuriating grace, smoothing down her skirt. The sudden absence of her weight makes your erection ache. She glances towards the door, then back at you, a quick, almost apologetic flicker in her eyes before it's replaced by resolve.

"Showtime," she mouths, then turns and strides towards the entrance.

The lock clicks. The heavy door swings inward. And suddenly, the spacious living room feels crowded. Three figures step inside, bringing a wave of expensive perfume and overwhelming presence. Towering over Karina, towering over you.

Wonyoung is first, draped in a long, dramatic beige trench coat that swamps her frame but somehow still looks regal. Her expression is pure, unfiltered impatience, lips pursed into a perfect pout. Beside her, Yuna practically spills out of a tiny black leather tube top and matching micro-skirt, fishnets snaking up her long legs, a predatory grin already fixed on you. And then there's Sullyoon, looking almost angelic in a white lace corset top and ridiculously short pleated skirt, but her wide, curious eyes dart nervously between you, Karina, and Wonyoung, clutching a small designer handbag. They’re all impossibly beautiful. And impossibly tall.

You just swallow, hard, sinking back into the plush velvet of the couch. Your brain short-circuits. Four K-pop goddesses. In the same room. Looking at you.

"Finally," Wonyoung mutters, tapping an expensively manicured finger against her arm, not even bothering to hide her irritation. "Took long enough."

Karina closes the door, turning back to the group, her hostess smile firmly in place, though you see the slight tension in her shoulders. "Girls, this is the guy I was talking about. You... probably already know who they are, right?" she directs the last part at you, a weak attempt at normalcy.

You nod dumbly, unable to form words.

Wonyoung's sharp eyes rake over you, from your hair down to your feet. A dismissive little sniff escapes her.

"Huh. You're even smaller in person," she remarks, sounding unimpressed. She glances sharply at Karina. "Are you sure about this, Jimin?"

Karina nods quickly. "Yes. Positive."

Wonyoung just hums, unconvinced. Then, with fluid nonchalance, she reaches up and undoes the belt of her trench coat. The fabric falls open. Underneath, she's wearing nothing but a scandalous black lace lingerie set; push-up bra showcasing perfect cleavage, matching high-waisted panties emphasizing her tiny waist and long legs, held up by intricate garter straps. She absolutely came prepared. Your mouth goes dry.

Karina turns back to you, offering a hand. "Come on, stand up."

Your legs feel shaky. The bulge in your pants is painfully obvious now, throbbing in time with the frantic beat in your chest. You take her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. You feel like a child standing among them.

Wonyoung's gaze flicks down to your crotch, then back up, a flicker of something – interest? Disdain? – in her eyes. "Did he already drink?” she asks Karina, nodding towards the empty glass on the coffee table.

"Yep. All of it," Karina confirms.

Your head snaps towards Karina, sudden alarm cutting through the horny haze. "Drink what? What are you talking about?"

Karina laughs nervously, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, it's nothing serious! Just a little something... to help you keep up. You know." She gestures vaguely at the three other women staring at you. "Four girls is no joke, right? Need stamina!"

"You... you literally drugged me?"

“Drugging is a very strong word!” she retorts, laughing nervously. “Look at you, conscious and healthy! What you drank was just an aphrodisiac, totally harmless.. and natural too.”

Yuna lets out a delighted giggle, covering her mouth with perfectly painted nails. "Aw, look at him. He's finally catching on!"

"Is... is what I think is going to happen... actually going to happen?" you ask Karina.

Wonyoung steps forward, silencing Karina before she can answer. She stops right in front of you, close enough you can smell the sweet, powdery scent of her skin beneath the perfume.

"If what you're thinking," Wonyoung states, her tone flat and bored, "is that you're about to get used like a personal dildo by four incredibly hot girls who are way out of your league... then yes. You are absolutely right."

Your breath hitches. Before you can process, Wonyoung gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Immediately, Yuna and Sullyoon are flanking you. Strong hands grip your arms, surprisingly firm. Yuna's touch is confident, almost playful; Sullyoon's is hesitant but locks on tight. You flinch, trying instinctively to pull away, a pathetic little struggle.

"Hey, relax," Karina says quickly, stepping closer, her expression pleading. "Just... go with it. It'll be fun."

Fun? Your head is spinning, your body is on fire, and four idols are manhandling you after drugging you. But fuck, the dominant way Wonyoung is looking at you, the hungry glint in Yuna's eyes, even Sullyoon's wide-eyed curiosity... it's terrifyingly hot.

Wonyoung reaches out, her long fingers landing on the button of your jeans. Her touch is cool, deliberate.

"Alright," she announces, her gaze fixed on your crotch. "Let's see if Jimin was telling the truth, or if she just has a really weird memory of high school dick."

Her fingers work quickly, expertly. The button pops. The zipper slides down. Before you can even react, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and boxers together and yanks them down past your hips, down your thighs, letting them pool around your ankles.

Your cock springs free, fully, violently hard. It bounces heavily against your lower belly, thick and veiny and flushed a deep, angry red from the drug and the sheer, overwhelming arousal. Ten and a half inches of raw, improbable meat jutting out from your otherwise skinny frame.

Yuna gasps, her eyes widening comically. Sullyoon makes a tiny choking sound, her grip tightening on your arm as her gaze locks onto it, mesmerized. Even Karina lets out a soft, breathy sound, her eyes glued to your erection.

"Wow," Karina whispers, sounding genuinely awed. "Okay... maybe it is even bigger than I remembered."

Only Wonyoung remains utterly impassive. Her face is a mask of cool appraisal, like she's judging a piece of art. Or livestock. She studies it for a long moment, then, without warning, her hand closes around the base. Her grip is strong, cool. She gives it a few slow, deliberate strokes, thumb pressing firmly against the thick vein running down the shaft.

A strangled moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips buck involuntarily.

"Is this it?" Wonyoung asks coolly, still stroking, her eyes meeting yours. "Is this fully hard? Or does it get bigger?"

"Y-yes," you gasp out, eyes squeezed shut. "That's... that's it."

Wonyoung stops stroking. She clicks her tongue. "Hm. Well then." She looks directly at Karina, her expression hardening. "We have a problem."

She bends slightly, reaching into an inner pocket of her fallen trench coat. You tense, wondering what the hell she's doing now. She straightens up holding... a sleek, metallic ruler.

"Wait, Wonyoung, are you seriously—" Karina starts, aghast.

"Of course I am," Wonyoung snaps, cutting her off. She kneels slightly, holding the ruler flat against the top side of your shaft, pressing the end firmly against your pubic bone. Her fingers are cold against your heated skin. You flinch, utterly humiliated, but Yuna and Sullyoon hold you fast. Wonyoung squints at the measurement.

"Ten... point five," she announces. She stands up straight, glaring daggers at Karina. "Ten and a half inches. You liar."

Karina shrinks back slightly. "What?"

"You told me," Wonyoung accuses, poking a finger towards Karina, "that it was bigger than my bodyguard's. You specifically said bigger than the bodyguard. He's twelve inches, Jimin! Twelve! This isn't even close!"

"I... I haven't seen it in years!" Karina defends herself frantically, blushing furiously. "It was dark, and it happened so fast! I was scared! It looked bigger back then, I swear! I thought it was enormous!"

Wonyoung rolls her eyes dramatically. "Disappointing. Utterly disappointing."

"Oh my god, Wonyoung, stop being so dramatic!" Yuna cuts in, finally letting go of your arm to reach down and cup your heavy balls possessively. Sullyoon mirrors her, her hesitant hand closing around the thick shaft just below Wonyoung's earlier grip. Their combined touch sends sparks through your system. "Who cares if it's not twelve inches? Look at this thing!" Yuna gives your balls a gentle squeeze. "It's still incredibly big. And so thick! We can have plenty of fun with this." Her eyes meet yours, hot and challenging. "Right? I'm already getting wet just holding him."

Sullyoon nods eagerly, running a tentative finger over the smooth head, her eyes wide with fascination. "Yeah, Wonyoung. It's... it's really amazing."

Wonyoung sighs, a long-suffering sound, but her eyes linger on the sheer girth of your cock, now being eagerly handled by the other two. "Fine," she concedes grudgingly. "It is impressively thick, I'll give you that. It might be good for something after all." She pauses, then pins Karina with a sharp look. "But you still lied. And liars need to be punished."

Karina swallows hard, nervousness flashing across her features again. "Punished? How?"

"You'll see," Wonyoung says cryptically. She turns her attention back to you, dismissing Karina entirely. "You. Finish taking off your clothes. Now. And get in the bedroom." She gestures vaguely towards a door down the hall. "I don't have all night."

Without waiting for a response, Wonyoung turns on her heel, her lingerie-clad form disappearing towards the indicated room, the trench coat abandoned on the floor.

Yuna leans in close, her hot breath fanning your ear. "You heard the princess. Hurry up," she whispers, then plants a quick, wet kiss on your cheek before releasing your balls and following Wonyoung.

Sullyoon gives your aching cock one last, surprisingly firm squeeze, her eyes flicking up to meet yours with a mixture of shyness and burgeoning excitement. Then she too lets go and scurries after the others, leaving you standing there alone in the middle of the luxurious living room.

Your pants are around your ankles, your shirt is still on, your monster erection is throbbing painfully in the open air, slick with pre-cum and the lingering touch of three different idols. Your head spins from the drug, the humiliation, the sheer terror, and the undeniable, overwhelming wave of horniness flooding your system. What the fuck just happened? And what the fuck happens next? You stand frozen, caught somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to crawl into that bedroom immediately. Obviously, driven by a total lack of shame and an unbearable horniness, combined with no sense of self-preservation, you choose the second option.

Fuck it. You kick off your fallen pants and boxers fully, leaving them in a pathetic heap on the expensive floor, and start walking towards the bedroom door Wonyoung vanished through. Your bare feet pad silently on the cool hardwood.

Karina falls into step beside you, her bare shoulder brushing your arm. You glance sideways at her, the mix of betrayal and horniness churning in your gut.

"You lied to me," you state. "The whole time. Downstairs. In the car."

She flinches slightly but keeps walking, her gaze fixed on the bedroom door ahead. "Okay, technically... maybe a little bit by omission?"

"A little bit?" you scoff, feeling a hysterical laugh bubble up. "You drugged me, Jimin! You set me up to be... to be some kind of human dildo for your idol friends!"

"Hey!" she protests, stopping for a second. "I did want to see you again. Honestly. That part wasn't a lie." She searches your face, her expression earnest, though it's hard to trust anything she says right now. "Things just got... complicated. And Wonyoung kinda insisted after I... might have mentioned you."

"Mentioned me? Or mentioned this?" you gesture vaguely downwards at your still stubbornly rigid cock.

"Both?" she offers weakly.

You shake your head, feeling dizzy again. "It's kinda hard to believe anything you say right now."

You reach the bedroom doorway and hesitate, peering inside. The room is huge, dominated by a massive bed with a dark grey headboard and way too many pillows. Soft light glows from hidden fixtures. Yuna and Sullyoon are near the foot of the bed, casually shedding their clothes. Yuna unhooks her leather top with a flourish, letting it drop to reveal a simple, strappy black bra that barely contains her curves. Sullyoon is more methodical, carefully folding her pleated skirt before unzipping the back of her lace corset, revealing matching white lace panties and a push-up bra that gives her an impressive silhouette. They’re both practically glowing with confidence, completely unbothered by your presence.

Karina gently pushes you forward, over the threshold. She reaches up and pulls her sheer blouse over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it onto a nearby armchair. Her bra is pale pink lace, elegant but functional, doing its best to support her surprisingly full, pale breasts. They swell invitingly over the delicate fabric, nipples visibly hard beneath the lace. You can't help but stare for a beat, remembering the feel of them pressed against your chest years ago.

She catches you looking and gives a small, self-conscious smile before starting to unzip her skirt. It slides down her legs, pooling around her knee-high boots before she finally takes them off. Underneath, she wears matching pink lace panties. "Your turn," she prompts, nodding towards your shirt. "Unless you want Wonyoung to rip it off you."

The thought is strangely appealing, but you comply, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossing it vaguely towards hers. Now you're standing there in just your socks, utterly exposed.

"So..." you begin, looking between the four women, feeling incredibly out of place and ridiculously turned on. "What... uh... what happens now?"

"Now?" Wonyoung's drawl comes from the bed. You see her lounging against the pillows, still in her black lingerie, legs crossed, watching you with predatory amusement. "Now the fun begins, tiny."

Wonyoung slides off the bed with feline grace. Yuna and Sullyoon turn from their discarded clothes, their eyes immediately locking onto your cock again. Together, the three of them approach, moving with unnerving synchronicity. They stop a few feet away, then slowly, deliberately, sink to their knees in front of you. Three pairs of stunning eyes staring intently at your dick. It’s like some weird, terrifyingly hot religious ceremony.

Karina takes a step forward, starting to kneel beside them, but Wonyoung shoots her a look sharp enough to cut glass.

"Ah-ah," Wonyoung chides, clicking her tongue. "Not you. Not yet."

Karina freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. She straightens up quickly, looking uncertain. After a moment's hesitation, she steps beside you instead, looping an arm comfortingly around your shoulders, pulling you slightly against her side. Her skin is warm. She leans in and presses a soft, quick kiss to your temple.

"Just breathe," she whispers, her lips brushing your ear. "Try to enjoy it?"

Enjoy it? Your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest, but as Wonyoung reaches out, followed immediately by Yuna and Sullyoon, their hands hovering just inches from your shaft, a low groan rumbles in your chest.

Wonyoung's fingers, cool and clinical, land first. She wraps them around the base again, testing the weight, her thumb tracing the thick vein. Yuna goes straight for the head, her touch surprisingly bold as she wets a fingertip with her tongue and circles the sensitive tip, making you gasp. Sullyoon hesitates for only a second before tentatively cupping your heavy balls, her touch feather-light at first, then growing firmer as she seems to gain confidence.

"Holy shit," Yuna breathes out, her eyes wide as she keeps teasing the head of your cock. "It's like... holding a fucking baseball bat. But, like, a really nice, warm baseball bat."

Sullyoon giggles nervously, her fingers exploring the taut skin of your scrotum. "It doesn't even look real up close. How does this even fit on someone?"

Wonyoung ignores them, focusing her attention on the shaft, running her other hand slowly up and down its length, mapping the texture, the heat. "Forget the length," she murmurs, almost to herself. "The girth on this thing... Now this is interesting." She squeezes slightly, eliciting another strangled sound from you. "Definitely something to work with."

Karina's arm tightens around your shoulders, a silent signal of... support? Apology? Shared anticipation? You can barely think straight, trapped between her comforting presence and the overwhelming sensation of three gorgeous idols worshipping your freakishly large dick like it's the eighth wonder of the world. Your knees feel weak, the room spins gently, and all you can focus on is the heat building low in your belly, spiraling outwards from their exploring hands.

Wonyoung maintains her grip on the base, anchoring you, while her tongue makes slow, deliberate laps around the thickest part of the shaft, pressing hard. It's methodical, almost analytical, but feels incredible. Yuna, giggling, dives lower, taking one of your heavy balls fully into her mouth, sucking strongly while her other hand playfully squeezes its twin. You cry out, hips jerking, hands clenching into fists at your sides. Sullyoon, seeming to take her cue from Yuna, mimics the action on your other ball, her technique less practiced but no less enthusiastic, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.

"Mmmph," Yuna hums around your ball, her eyes sparkling up at you. "So salty. You taste good."

Sullyoon nods vigorously, her mouth still full.

Karina's arm tightens around your shoulders. You can feel the slight tremor running through her. "God," she breathes out, her gaze fixed on the scene below. "Look at them..."

Wonyoung lifts her head slightly, her lips glistening. "Alright, girls, new plan." Her tone is all business, but there's a dark spark in her eyes. "I need him really wet. Like, dripping. Slobber him up properly. I have plans for all that lube later."

Yuna pulls off your ball with a wet pop. "Ooh, bossy Wonyoung! My favorite!" She winks, then immediately latches onto the mid-shaft, sucking hard and deep, making deliberately sloppy noises. "You want drool? You got drool, princess!"

Sullyoon, blushing furiously but clearly eager to please, releases your other ball and joins Yuna on the shaft, her mouth smaller but working just as diligently, their tongues occasionally bumping. It's a hot, messy tangle of lips and saliva coating your straining cock.

Wonyoung watches them for a second, a critical glint in her eyes, before lowering her head again, her tongue darting out to flick teasingly at the sensitive underside, right where the shaft meets your balls. You groan, head tipping back against Karina's shoulder.

"Oh my god," Karina whispers, her own breathing quickening. She leans her cheek against your hair. "Are you... are you okay? Are you enjoying this?"

Is she serious? Your brain is soup, your body is humming like a live wire, and three of the most beautiful women on the planet are tag-teaming your dick like it owes them money.

"F-fuck," you manage to gasp out, legs trembling. "Y-yes? Maybe? God, Jimin, it's..." You can't finish. Another wave of pleasure crashes over you as Yuna somehow manages to take even more of you into her throat, her hand pumping the base in time with her sucking. Pre-cum beads thickly at the tip, immediately licked away by Sullyoon's inquisitive tongue.

"He likes it!" Sullyoon announces proudly through a mouthful of spit and dick.

"Course he likes it, dummy," Yuna retorts, pulling back just enough to talk. "Look at him! Leaking like a faucet already. We're doing a great job making him nice and slippery for Wonyoung's mysterious plans." She gives Wonyoung a suggestive look.

Wonyoung just smirks, her tongue still tracing lazy circles near your balls. "Focus, Yuna. More spit. Less talk."

"Yes, ma'am!" Yuna salutes mockingly, then dives back in, somehow managing to sound even wetter this time. Sullyoon follows suit, their combined efforts painting your cock in thick, glistening ropes of saliva. The wet sucking sounds fill the room, punctuated by your helpless moans and the occasional giggle from Yuna or encouragement from Karina.

"Damn," Karina murmurs again, her fingers tightening on your shoulder. "You really are... something else." She sounds genuinely impressed, and maybe a little turned on herself. You feel a bead of sweat trickle down your temple, the heat in the room, or maybe just in your own body, becoming almost unbearable. This is insane. It's degrading. It's terrifying.

And fuck, you hope they don't stop anytime soon.

"More," Wonyoung demands, her own mouth leaving your balls for a moment to issue the order. "I want him practically drowning in it. Yuna, Sullyoon, don't be shy with the spit."

Yuna grins wickedly around your shaft. "You hear that, Sullyoonie? Permission to be absolutely disgusting!" She pulls back slightly, gathers saliva in her mouth (you can literally hear it) and then leans in, letting a thick, clear stream drizzle directly onto the head of your cock. It mixes with the pre-cum already leaking there, creating a pearly mess. "How's that, boss?"

"Better," Wonyoung approves, nodding slightly. She then looks pointedly at Sullyoon. "Your turn."

Sullyoon hesitates for only a split second, blushing scarlet, before copying Yuna. Her spit is maybe a little less voluminous, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm, adding another layer of wetness. You groan loudly, bucking against their mouths as the warm liquid coats you. It feels unbelievably degrading and yet insanely hot.

"Oh my god, they're actually spitting on it," Karina whispers beside you, sounding both horrified and utterly captivated. "Is that... does that feel okay?"

"F-Feels..." you gasp, trying to catch your breath. "Feels fucking weird! Good weird! Fuck!"

"Language," Wonyoung chides absently, though she doesn't sound genuinely annoyed. She seems focused on the task at hand. She uses her fingers to smear the combined spit and pre-cum all over the shaft, ensuring every inch is glistening under the soft bedroom lights. "See? Nice and slick. Almost ready."

"Ready for what?" Yuna asks playfully, her tongue now lapping up the excess spit near the base, her cheeks puffed out. "You gonna use him as a slip-n-slide?"

Wonyoung ignores her. "Tip duty. Both of you," she commands Yuna and Sullyoon.

They obey instantly. Sullyoon’s smaller tongue darts out, carefully tracing the ridge of the corona, while Yuna goes straight for the slit, flicking her tongue rapidly over the hypersensitive opening, drawing out even more pre-cum. Their tongues brush, slide over each other, working in tandem to worship the very head of your cock. It’s an agonizingly precise torture.

"Mmm, look how much pre-cum he's making," Sullyoon murmurs, her eyes wide with fascination. "It tastes good."

"Told ya," Yuna slurps, managing to get her lips around the entire glans for a moment, sucking hard before releasing it with another wet pop. "He's like a leaky faucet of man-juice. Keep licking, Sullyoon, let's make it nice and shiny."

They continue their ministrations, tongues swirling, lapping, occasionally flicking out to catch stray drips running down the shaft. Wonyoung watches critically, occasionally adding a guiding touch with her finger or a low hum of approval. Karina is practically vibrating beside you now, her hand gripping your shoulder tightly, her knuckles white. You can feel her shallow, rapid breaths against your neck.

The combined stimulation is relentless. Your toes curl, your back arches off the floor slightly, supported only by Karina's arm. A high-pitched whine escapes your throat. You feel dangerously close, the pressure building low and deep, coiling tight in your balls.

Just as you think you might actually lose it, Wonyoung gives a sharp nod. "Okay. Enough."

Yuna and Sullyoon pull back simultaneously, leaving your cock absolutely drenched, glistening obscenely, thick ropes of saliva and pre-cum dripping onto the floor. It stands there, twitching slightly, impossibly hard and looking utterly debauched.

Wonyoung leans back on her heels, surveying their handiwork with a critical eye. A small, satisfied smirk touches her lips. "Acceptable," she declares finally. Then, her gaze shifts, sharp and imperious, landing squarely on Karina, who is still holding you up, looking flushed and breathless from watching.

"Karina," Wonyoung commands, her tone leaving no room for argument. "On your knees. Now.”

Karina practically beams, relief washing over her face as she drops eagerly to her knees before you, eyes fixed on your glistening, spit-slicked cock. She clearly thinks it’s finally her turn, leaning forward slightly, lips parting in anticipation. Oh, how wrong she is.

Wonyoung watches her kneel with a predatory stillness, letting the hope bloom on Karina’s face for a torturous second before shattering it.

"What do you think you're doing?" Wonyoung asks, her tone deceptively soft.

Karina blinks, confused. "I'm... you told me to kneel?" Her gaze flickers towards your cock, then back to Wonyoung, clearly expecting the order to suck.

"Yes. Kneel for your punishment," Wonyoung corrects coolly. "For lying to me about the merchandise." She gestures towards your erection with a flick of her wrist. "You don't get to taste it yet. First, you pay the price for exaggerating."

Karina's hopeful expression evaporates, replaced by wide-eyed confusion, then dawning fear. "Punishment? Wait, what—"

Beside her, Yuna claps a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Sullyoon tries to stifle a giggle behind her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. They clearly knew this was coming.

"H-how... how are you going to punish me?" Karina stammers, looking genuinely scared now.

Wonyoung's lips curl into a cruel, slow smile. "With this," she declares, and before Karina can react, Wonyoung reaches out, her hand closing firmly around the base of your thick, dripping cock. She lifts it slightly, like she’s hefting a weapon. Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, she swings it sideways, slapping the wet, heavy shaft right across Karina’s cheek.

The sound is shockingly loud, wet and fleshy. Karina cries out, head snapping to the side from the impact, a bright red mark instantly blooming on her pale skin, smeared with your spit and pre-cum.

Yuna and Sullyoon absolutely lose it, bursting into loud laughter, clutching each other for support.

"Oh my god! She actually did it!" Yuna howls between giggles.

Wonyoung ignores them, her focus entirely on Karina’s stunned, reddening face. "Rule number one, Jimin: Don't bullshit me about dick size," she states calmly. "Since you were off by almost two inches, but we'll round down... let's make it ten hits. One for every lovely, thick inch he actually has." She adjusts her grip on your shaft, preparing for the next swing.

The sensation is… bizarre. Jarring at first, then this strange, intense vibration travels up the shaft with each impact, making your cock throb pleasurably. You stand there, rooted to the spot, watching Wonyoung use your own dick to punish Karina.

SMACK! "One," Wonyoung counts, hitting the other cheek this time. Karina whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut but holding her position.

SMACK! "Two." Another wet impact, leaving another glistening smear.

SMACK! "Three." Karina lets out a low moan this time, a sound that’s halfway between pain and something else. Her hands clench into fists on her thighs.

SMACK! "Four." Your cock feels incredibly sensitive, the repeated slapping friction oddly satisfying against the wetness. It feels… good. Way better than it should.

"Look at her face!" Sullyoon squeals, pointing. "It's all red and shiny!"

SMACK! "Five." Wonyoung delivers this one harder, snapping Karina’s head back slightly. A tear escapes the corner of Karina's eye, but the soft sigh that follows it sounds suspiciously like pleasure.

Fuck, is she actually getting off on this?

"Damn, Wonyoung, you're really going for it," Yuna comments, still chuckling. "Can we have a turn? Please? It looks fun! Like that baseball bat I mentioned!"

Wonyoung pauses after the fifth hit, considering Yuna's request while keeping a firm grip on your throbbing shaft. Karina uses the moment to take a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes still closed, face flushed and marked.

"Fine," Wonyoung concedes with a shrug. "But don't mess up the count. Five more hits."

Yuna squeals with delight and practically lunges forward, grabbing your cock just below Wonyoung's hand. Sullyoon eagerly joins in, her smaller hands closing around the shaft as well. They wield it together, a combined grip that feels incredibly tight and encompassing.

"Our turn, Jimin!" Yuna chirps happily. "Ready for the big leagues?"

Karina nods mutely, bracing herself.

SMACK! Yuna and Sullyoon swing together, their combined force making the impact even heavier. "Six!" Yuna yells gleefully.

SMACK! "Seven!" Sullyoon shouts, getting into the spirit. The wet slap echoes in the room. Karina moans louder this time, a definite note of arousal in the sound now, her hips shifting slightly on the floor.

SMACK! "Eight!" They're literally using your dick like a club, and the friction, the impact, the sheer humiliation of the scene it's pushing you closer to the edge again. Your cock feels impossibly hard, straining against their tight grips between hits.

SMACK! "Nine!" Karina's breathing is harsh now, her lips parted, another tear tracking through the smear of spit on her cheek, but her eyes, when they flutter open for a second, look hazy and aroused.

"Last one!" Yuna announces. They swing back for momentum—

SMACK! "Ten!" The final hit lands solidly, leaving Karina panting, her face a mess of red marks and glistening wetness, looking utterly wrecked and undeniably horny.

Yuna and Sullyoon release you abruptly, stepping back and admiring their handiwork, giggling like schoolgirls. Your cock springs free, still dripping, throbbing from the repeated impacts, feeling incredibly sensitive and somehow even harder than before.

Karina stays kneeling on the expensive rug, her face still flushed, marked with the fading red impressions from your own dick. Her eyes, though, they aren't filled with pain or anger anymore. They're locked onto your cock, still dripping thick ropes of spit and pre-cum onto the floor, throbbing from the abuse it just dished out.

"Wony... please," Karina asks, her eyes flickering up to the dominant girl who stands observing like a bored queen. "Can I... Can I clean him up? Please? Just let me taste it."

Wonyoung taps a long, perfectly manicured finger against her chin, pretending to mull it over. The silence stretches, Yuna and Sullyoon watch with barely concealed amusement, clearly enjoying Karina's predicament.

"Hmmmm," Wonyoung hums, drawing out the moment. "Let me think..." She pauses dramatically. "No."

The single word hits Karina like another slap. Her face falls, hope instantly extinguished, replaced by stinging disappointment. She looks down, biting her lip hard.

"Maybe later," Wonyoung adds dismissively, like tossing a scrap to a dog. "If you're a good girl. But first, I need to see if this... thing... is actually any good. Can't have substandard equipment tarnishing my reputation, can we?" She turns that cool, appraising gaze back to you, dismissing Karina entirely. "If I don't like it, Jimin," she says, deliberately using Karina's real name, "then you are royally screwed. Understand?"

Karina just nods mutely, looking utterly dejected.

"You," Wonyoung commands, pointing a sharp finger at you. "Bed. Now."

Your body feels disconnected from your brain. Part of you wants to bolt, to run screaming from this luxurious nightmare penthouse. But the aphrodisiac humming in your veins, combined with the overwhelming presence of these four women and the undeniable, terrifying arousal Wonyoung sparks in you, roots you to the spot. You hesitate, muscles locking up.

Before you can make a conscious decision, Yuna and Sullyoon are grabbing your arms again. Their initial playful exploration is gone, replaced by a firm, almost rough grip. They practically drag you across the room, your bare feet stumbling slightly on the plush carpet. They don't exactly throw you, but they guide you firmly onto the enormous bed, pushing you down until you're lying flat on your back amidst the sea of expensive pillows and crisp grey duvet. The mattress sinks slightly under your weight.

You lie there, utterly exposed, your erection jutting towards the ceiling like some obscene monument. The humiliation burns, but fuck, so does the heat pooling in your gut. The three of them (Wonyoung, Yuna, Sullyoon) climb onto the bed with predatory grace, surrounding you. Karina lingers near the foot of the bed, looking lost and unsure, still just in her pink lace bra and panties, hugging herself slightly.

Wonyoung positions herself directly between your legs, kneeling over you. She reaches down, grabbing your ankles and pulling your legs further apart, forcing you into an even more vulnerable position. Her eyes rake over your cock with that same critical appraisal, as if deciding where to start.

"Alright, let's see," she murmurs, almost to herself. Wonyoung puts her panties aside, then she reaches out, her fingers wrapping around the base, cool and clinical. Then, slowly, deliberately, she guides the thick, slick head towards her own entrance. You watch, breathless, as she tries to position herself, biting her lip slightly in concentration. Her pussy looks impossibly tight, incredibly intimidating compared to the sheer girth she's trying to take.

She lowers herself slowly, carefully. There's a sharp intake of breath, her eyes squeezing shut for a second as the head breaches her entrance. A low hiss escapes her lips.

"Fuck," Wonyoung grits out. "Okay. Wow. The thickness is really something else."

She stops, only the head and maybe an inch or two inside her. She breathes deeply, trying to relax, her hands braced on your chest. You can feel the muscles inside her clenching tightly around you, resisting the invasion.

"Just... give me a second," she mutters, more to herself than to you. She takes another slow breath and pushes down again, harder this time. A strangled gasp tears from her throat, her back arching slightly. She manages another inch, maybe two. The friction is intense, almost unbearable for both of you. You can feel every ridge, every vein of your cock scraping against her impossibly tight walls.

"See?" she pants, forcing a strained smile as she looks up at you. "Told you... I could handle it."

She starts to move then, tentative at first. Tiny, almost imperceptible shifts of her hips, trying to ease herself further down onto your length. Each small movement sends jolts of raw pleasure through you, but it's mixed with the undeniable sight of her pain. Her face is screwed up in concentration, sweat beading on her forehead.

"God, it... it kinda hurts," she admits through clenched teeth, pausing her movements. "But..." A different kind of noise escapes her then, a low moan that's equal parts pain and dawning pleasure. "...But it also feels... fuck, it feels kinda good, too. Stretching me out like this."

She starts moving again, a little bolder now, lifting herself slightly before sinking back down, taking a fraction more of you each time. The initial pain seems to be giving way, replaced by the friction, the sheer fullness. You can see the shift in her expression, the tight lines of discomfort slowly melting into something hotter, needier. She's managed to take maybe five, six inches now; just over half your length, but already filling her completely.

"Okay," Wonyoung breathes out, her rhythm becoming more confident, a slow, steady grind. "Okay, I see the appeal." Her eyes flick towards Yuna and Sullyoon, who are watching the scene with rapt attention. "This girth... it hits different."

Then, her gaze drops back to you, and the cruelty returns, sharp and sudden. "Look at you," she sneers as she continues her slow, torturous ride. "Just lying there. Taking it. Like a good little freak."

"Letting me just... use you," she continues, picking up the pace slightly, her moans starting to mingle with her insults. "Because that's all you're good for, isn't it? With a dick like that on a body like yours? You're just a fucking toy. A novelty. Something to be passed around and used up when we're bored." She leans down, her face close to yours, her eyes cold. "You have no dignity, do you? Just a pathetic little fucktoy waiting for orders."

You flinch, turning your head away, shame warring with the undeniable arousal her words, her movements, are stirring in you. A low sound escapes your throat, a mix between a whimper and a groan.

Wonyoung laughs, a harsh, satisfied sound. "Oh, you like that? Being put in your place?"

Beside the bed, Yuna and Sullyoon are practically vibrating with excitement. The sight of Wonyoung dominating you, humiliating you, is clearly turning them on immensely. Yuna reaches out, her fingers fumbling with the clasp of Sullyoon's white lace bra. Sullyoon gasps softly but doesn't stop her, instead leaning in to press a kiss to Yuna's shoulder as the bra falls away, revealing her surprisingly full, pale breasts, nipples already hard. Yuna moans, her hands immediately cupping Sullyoon's chest, thumbs circling the stiff peaks. Sullyoon arches her back, pushing into Yuna's touch, her eyes fluttering shut as Yuna leans down to suckle one nipple greedily. They start touching each other, slow, sensual caresses, lost in their own world but clearly fueled by the scene playing out on the bed.

You can't help it, your hands start to move, wanting to grip Wonyoung's hips, wanting some semblance of control, some way to push back against the humiliation, to match the intensity of her ride. But the second your fingers brush her skin, her hand flashes out, slapping you hard across the face.

It hurts. A lot.

The force of it snaps your head to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. Stars explode behind your eyes.

"Don't touch me unless I tell you to!" Wonyoung orders sharply. "Just lie there and do what you're told, toy. Be useful."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, from the slap, the humiliation, the sheer overwhelming nature of it all. You nod mutely, letting your hands fall limply to your sides. You obey. Because what else can you do?

Karina, who has been watching all this unfold from the foot of the bed, her face a mixture of arousal, pity, and fear, finally speaks up. Her voice is small, hesitant. "Wony... maybe... maybe take it easy on him? He's..."

Wonyoung cuts her off with a venomous glare, pausing her rhythmic grinding on your cock just long enough to snap, "Shut the fuck up, Jimin." Her voice is ice. "Did I say you could talk? No. You're lucky you're even in this room after lying to me." She gestures dismissively towards Karina's chest. "Now take off that fucking bra, whore. I want those big pale tits of yours out. Now."

Karina flinches as if struck, but the order, the sudden harsh attention, also seems to ignite something in her. A flicker of desperation, a need to please, to get back in Wonyoung's good graces (or maybe just to feel something other than sidelined). Without another word, her hands move to her back, fumbling slightly with the clasp. The pink lace falls away, revealing her own full, pale breasts, nipples tight and dark against her skin. She keeps her eyes down, looking utterly miserable yet strangely defiant.

Wonyoung gives a grunt of approval, then immediately resumes riding you, harder now, her moans mixing with yours. Your own moan escapes, louder this time, raw with the conflicting mess of pain, humiliation, and overwhelming pleasure. You can't help it; despite everything, despite the slap still stinging your cheek, the sight of Wonyoung grinding down on you, her perfect body moving above yours, is undeniably beautiful.

"Damn, you’re so fucking hot," you groan out, the words ripped from you involuntarily.

Wonyoung pauses for a beat, tilting her head slightly as if she just registered your words through the haze of her own pleasure. A slow, incredibly smug smile spreads across her face.

"I know," she says simply.

Across the room, Yuna lifts her head from Sullyoon's breast, her lips wet. Sullyoon moans softly as Yuna's hand slides between her legs. Yuna's eyes flick between you and Wonyoung, a knowing smirk blooming on her face.

"Oh?" Yuna says, her voice sly. "Looks like our little toy likes being used after all. Likes being treated rough."

Sullyoon giggles breathlessly, nodding in agreement, her eyes also fixed on your reaction. "He really does…”

Wonyoung is definitely having fun now. The initial tightness and discomfort have melted away, replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure radiating from her face. Her movements are stronger, more demanding, her hips rocking against yours with a practiced rhythm that steals your breath. She throws her head back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a genuine, guttural moan ripping from her throat as she grinds down hard, milking another wave of intense friction from your thick shaft.

"Oh, fuck," Wonyoung gasps out, her eyes half-lidded, glazed with pleasure. "Okay, okay... this is... goddamn... the thickness is insane. It feels... holy shit." She grips your hips tighter, digging her perfectly manicured nails into your skin, leveraging herself for deeper strokes. "Forget the length, this girth..." she groans again, riding you with renewed vigor. "It fills me up completely. Hits everything."

Karina, still standing nearby with her bra discarded, sees her opening. Her eyes light up with a desperate need for validation, latching onto Wonyoung's praise like a lifeline.

"See?" Karina blurts out, stepping closer to the bed, her voice hopeful. "See, Wony? I told you! I told you it was amazing! I knew you'd like it!"

Wonyoung's eyes snap open. She glares daggers at Karina, her rhythm faltering slightly.

"Shut up, Jimin," Wonyoung snaps. "Don't interrupt me when I'm busy. And don't think a lucky guess about the thickness makes up for you lying about the size. You said twelve inches. You lied."

Karina shrinks back, wilting under the glare. "I didn't lie!" she protests weakly, twisting her hands together. "I just... I remembered it wrong! It was years ago! I made a mistake!"

"A convenient mistake," Wonyoung scoffs, but her attention is already shifting. A wicked glint enters her eyes as she looks Karina up and down, lingering on her bare chest. "Fine. You want to be useful? Bring those big tits over here. Right now."

Karina hesitates for only a fraction of a second, glancing nervously at you, then back at Wonyoung. The desperation to please, to be included, wins out. She quickly climbs onto the bed, kneeling beside Wonyoung, carefully avoiding touching you. She leans forward tentatively, offering her chest.

Wonyoung doesn't waste a second. She leans over, still impaling you, and captures one of Karina's large, pale nipples between her teeth, sucking hard. Karina cries out, a sharp gasp that's equal parts surprise and pleasure, her back arching instinctively. Wonyoung uses her free hand to mercilessly squeeze Karina's other breast, kneading the soft flesh, pinching the already hard nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

"Mmmph," Wonyoung hums around Karina's nipple, her eyes fluttering shut again as she focuses on the dual sensations: your thick cock stretching her tight cunt, Karina's soft breast filling her mouth. "Okay... gotta admit, Jimin... these are pretty fucking amazing too." She releases the nipple with a wet pop, leaving it glistening and dark red, before latching onto the other one. "So full... so soft..." she murmurs, squeezing the first breast possessively.

Karina is panting now, her face flushed, eyes hazy. She looks utterly wrecked, caught between the intense stimulation and the relief of finally having Wonyoung's attention, even like this.

Yuna, who has paused her ministrations on Sullyoon to watch, lets out a theatrical sigh. Sullyoon is leaning against her, completely bare now, her small breasts flushed, nipples pebbled hard as she watches Wonyoung and Karina with wide, fascinated eyes.

"Ugh, not fair," Yuna whines playfully, cupping her own smaller chest for comparison. "I wish mine were big and squishy like Karina's. Lucky bitch."

Sullyoon nods in agreement, her gaze still fixed on Karina's chest being manhandled by Wonyoung.

Now, the sight is fucking unreal: Wonyoung riding you, her tight pussy gripping your thick cock with every downward thrust, while simultaneously devouring Karina's breast like it's the finest dessert. The combined visual is overwhelmingly hot, your breath hitches, catches, turns into ragged pants that fill the otherwise quiet room (save for Wonyoung's increasingly loud moans and Karina's breathy gasps). You can't help the sounds escaping you, raw groans torn from your throat with every powerful stroke Wonyoung delivers.

"Ah... Fuck... W-Wonyoung... Oh god..."

Wonyoung seems to reach a new peak, her movements becoming frantic, her grip on Karina's breast tightening almost painfully. Karina cries out again, but Wonyoung doesn't seem to notice, lost in her own pleasure. Then, abruptly, the intensity breaks. Wonyoung slows her pace, breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her skin. The sudden change makes your own ragged breathing sound even louder in the relative quiet.

Wonyoung glares down at you, annoyance flashing across her sweat-slicked face. "Ugh, can you stop making so much noise?" she complains, sounding like the spoiled princess she is. "It's distracting. Seriously, shut up." She glances over at the other two girls, who are now just watching, hands idle. "One of you, deal with this. Shut him up. Sit on his face or something. I don't care, just make him quiet."

Yuna and Sullyoon exchange excited glances. Sullyoon looks slightly hesitant, but Yuna grins wickedly.

"Ooh, face-sitting duty? Dibs!" Yuna declares immediately.

"Hey! No fair! I wanna do it too!" Sullyoon protests, pouting slightly.

Yuna rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine, drama queen. Rock paper scissors for it? Winner gets to smother him."

Sullyoon nods eagerly. They both hold out their fists.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors! SHOOT!"

Yuna throws paper. Sullyoon throws rock.

"Ha! Yes!" Yuna cheers triumphantly, pumping her fist. "Paper covers rock! Face is mine!"

Sullyoon groans dramatically but doesn't argue further, instead settling back to watch with keen interest. Yuna crawls purposefully towards your head, her movements fluid and confident. She's completely naked now, her lithe body gleaming slightly under the soft lights, her earlier play with Sullyoon having clearly left her thoroughly aroused. She positions herself directly over your face, straddling your neck, her bare pussy hovering just inches above your mouth. You can smell her arousal; musky, salty, intoxicating. She's definitely wet.

Yuna leans down slightly, her dark hair falling around her face, brushing against your cheeks.

"Alright, noise machine," Yuna purrs, lowering herself just enough that her wet folds brush against your lips. "Princess Wonyoung wants you quiet. So you're gonna focus on me now." She shifts her hips, grinding her clit lightly against your mouth. "Open up and eat. And don't stop until I tell you to."

She settles her weight down fully then, pressing her wetness firmly against your mouth and nose. The sensation is overwhelming; the soft pressure, the intimate scent, the taste of her arousal instantly flooding your senses. Wonyoung is still moving on your cock below, a steady, demanding rhythm, her moans starting up again, quieter now. Karina is still kneeling beside her, breasts bare, watching Yuna with wide eyes. Sullyoon is watching everything, touching herself lightly. And Yuna... Yuna is grinding onto your face, demanding your tongue, muffling any sound you might make besides muffled gasps into her flesh.

"That's it," Yuna murmurs. "Lick me, freak. Use that tongue. Make me feel good while Wonyoung breaks you." She moans as your tongue finally finds her clit, flicking against the sensitive nub. "Oh fuck... yeah, right there... Don't stop!”

Across the bed, Sullyoon is completely naked now, lying on her side, propped up on one elbow. Her eyes are wide, dark, fixed on the tangled mess of limbs. Her free hand is working furiously between her own long legs, fingers slick and glistening as she rubs herself, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.

"Oh my god," Sullyoon gasps out, watching Wonyoung slam down onto your cock. "Look how deep she's taking him... Fuck, Karina, she's murdering your tits too..." Her fingers move faster, her knuckles white. "Girls, this is... this is so hot..."

Wonyoung lets out another high, keening moan, throwing her head back again. Her grip on Karina's breast tightens, eliciting a sharp cry from her. Wonyoung doesn't seem to notice, her focus entirely internal now, chasing her own climax.

"Nnngh... Fuck... Almost... almost there..." Wonyoung pants, her words broken. Her hips slam down onto you with punishing force, again and again, driving you deeper into the mattress. The sheer thickness of your cock seems to be exactly what she needs, stretching her, filling her, pushing her closer to the edge. "Fuck... yes..." Wonyoung pants. "God, this girth... it's perfect. Hits me just... ah... right."

Meanwhile, Yuna is making your life a living hell in the best/worst possible way. Her slick cunt grinds relentlessly against your mouth, demanding attention. Your tongue is working frantically, trying to keep up, licking and sucking at her clit as she rides your face like she was born for it. The musky taste of her fills your senses, making your head spin even more than the aphrodisiac already is. Her hands grip the sides of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you firmly in place.

"Lick faster, toy," Yuna commands. "Don't you dare slack off. Make me feel good."

You try to comply, your tongue moving in frantic circles, lapping at the wetness she’s providing. Suddenly, she shifts her weight awkwardly, wobbling slightly. Your hands instinctively shoot up, grabbing her hips to steady her before she can completely fall off balance.

"Nnngh-!" Yuna gasps, surprised by your quick reaction, but she settles back down immediately, grinding even harder against your mouth now that she has your hands supporting her. "Yes! Hold me right there, fucker! That's it! Hold me steady while I ride your face off! Fuck, use that tongue, bitch!"

Watching this chaotic scene, Sullyoon is practically vibrating on the spot. Her hand is a blur between her legs, fingers working her clit with frantic speed. Her face is flushed crimson, eyes wide and glazed, fixed on the tangle of bodies. A thin sheen of sweat covers her skin, and it is possible to see the creamy wetness starting to seep from between her own folds, slicking her fingers.

"Oh my god... oh fuck..." Sullyoon moans. "Wony... Yuna... you guys are so... fuck..."

Even Karina can't resist. Her free hand, the one not being crushed by Wonyoung, creeps down hesitantly at first, fingers brushing against her own damp panties. Seeing Yuna and Sullyoon so lost in pleasure, feeling Wonyoung's mouth still working her nipple, watching you get absolutely used... it's too much. Her fingers slip underneath the lace, finding her own clit, and she starts rubbing herself with small, desperate movements, her breath hitching.

Wonyoung throws her head back again, a loud, piercing moan tearing from her throat as she slams down onto your cock particularly hard, her tight walls milking you intensely.

"Fuck! Yes! Right there! Oh god, I'm... I'm getting close!" she screams. "Fuck, this dick is... magic!"

Yuna hears her and lets out an ecstatic shriek muffled against your lips. "Yes! Wony, yes! Me too! Let's cum together! Fuck!" She picks up her pace, grinding her clit against your tongue so hard it's almost painful, her whole body trembling.

"No! Wait!" Sullyoon cries out from the side, her fingers flying even faster. Her knuckles are white, her breathing ragged. "Wait for me! I'm almost there too! Fuck, please wait!"

Wonyoung laughs, a wild, breathless sound. "Hurry up then, Sullyoonie! Can't hold back much longer!" She leans further onto Karina, her weight pressing down as she continues her relentless ride, her pussy squeezing your cock with punishing intensity. She continues to squeeze Karina’s breast like it’s putty in her hand, twisting the nipple until Karina gasps sharply. "Feel that, Jimin?" Wonyoung taunts breathlessly between moans. "Feel how good he is? Feel what you missed out on because you were too scared?"

Karina just whimpers, her own fingers moving faster between her legs now, chasing her own release despite the humiliation.

"Almost... almost..." Wonyoung pants.

"Fuck... me too... gonna... cum!" Yuna gasps against your mouth.

Then, something shifts. Wonyoung reaches out, her hand finding Yuna's. Their fingers lace together tightly, a strange moment of connection amidst the chaos. They look at each other, eyes locked, faces flushed and identical masks of impending ecstasy.

"Now?" Yuna mouths silently.

Wonyoung nods curtly, then her eyes flick down to you, still filled with that cruel amusement even as she's about to lose control. "Look at you," she spits out between pants. "Just a fucking pole for us to ride. A mouth for us to use. Pathetic little freak, letting us do whatever we want to you." Her hips slam down one last time. "Good boy!"

"WAIT!" Sullyoon screams.

But it's too late.

Wonyoung throws her head back, a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashes over her. Her inner walls clamp down on your cock hard, pulsing violently, milking you intensely. Simultaneously, Yuna lets out a high-pitched wail against your mouth, her hips spasming uncontrollably as she comes hard, her juices flooding your tongue, your throat, spilling down your chin. Sullyoon shrieks in frustration and pleasure as she finally tips over the edge milliseconds later, her body convulsing, fingers still buried inside herself.

Only Karina is silent, her hand stilled between her legs, watching the other three completely fall apart with wide, almost fearful eyes.

It takes a long moment for the intensity to subside. Wonyoung slowly, shakily, lifts herself off your still-throbbing cock. Her legs are trembling, her breath coming in harsh gasps. She looks utterly wrecked, but supremely satisfied. Yuna collapses forward onto your chest, panting, leaving your face completely soaked in her slick, sticky arousal, her scent clinging to you. Sullyoon curls into a ball on the bed, whimpering softly, spent.

Wonyoung recovers first, of course. She pushes her sweat-soaked hair back from her face and glares down at you, her usual imperious expression returning, though her flushed cheeks and slightly trembling hands betray the intensity of her orgasm.

"Well," she says, voice still a little shaky but regaining its commanding tone. She kicks your thigh lightly, not hard, just a dismissive nudge. "You were... adequate. As a piece of equipment." She looks you up and down. "You should thank us, you know. For even bothering to use you. Giving a little freak like you this kind of attention."

Your head is spinning. Your face is covered in Yuna’s juices. Your cock aches. Humiliation and arousal are waging a war inside you. But faced with Wonyoung’s unwavering command, the ingrained response kicks in.

"T-thank you," you stammer out. "Thank you... for using me."

Wonyoung gives a curt nod of satisfaction. Sullyoon, seemingly recovered, stirs beside you. She sits up slowly, her eyes landing on your face, still glistening wet. A slow, slightly dazed smile spreads across her lips.

"Hey, you're all messy," Sullyoon says softly. She crawls closer, leaning down towards your face. "Don't worry. I'll clean you up."

Before you can react, her tongue flicks out, tentatively licking at the sticky wetness on your cheek; Yuna's juices. She hums softly, seeming to enjoy the taste.

Yuna sees what Sullyoon is doing, and bursts into delighted giggles. "Yah! Sullyoon-ah!" she exclaims, reaching over and giving Sullyoon's bare ass a sharp, playful slap. "You little slut! Cleaning up after me already? So eager."

Sullyoon jumps at the slap, blushing furiously but giggling too as she continues to lick your face clean, her tongue surprisingly thorough.

Wonyoung’s chest rises and falls slow but heavy as she catches her breath, cheeks still flushed. She waves a hand lazily and snaps:

“Yuna. Water.”

Yuna’s already halfway up like she was waiting for the command, a little dazed but obedient, disappearing toward the suite’s kitchenette. You’re still on your back, cock slick and half-hard, twitching like it knows more’s coming.

Behind you, Karina’s voice pipes up, almost sheepish.

“Is it my turn now?”

Wonyoung tilts her head, pouting, turning with faux sweetness dripping from every syllable.

“Aww… Is our little Karina super horny right now?” She steps toward her slowly, arms crossed under her chest, tilting her head.

Karina nods, almost embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“You must be fucking insane,” Wonyoung purrs, biting her bottom lip, “to wanna feel that thing inside your pretty little pussy.” Her hand gestures lazily at your cock, still shiny with Wonyoung's Juices. “That thing you ran away from, remember? Screaming, even.”

Karina swallows hard and nods again. “I know… I was dumb…”

Wonyoung chuckles, low and wicked. “C’mere.”

Karina obeys instantly, stepping forward like she’s being summoned by a queen (which, yeah, she is). Wonyoung grabs her by the waist and pulls her in, lips crashing into hers. There’s hunger in it. Desperation. Karina clings to her, arms wrapping around her back as their tongues tangle and slide together.

Wonyoung’s hands move with zero shame, cupping Karina’s tits, squeezing hard, like she can’t help herself. The moan Karina lets out is real, shaky, needy.

“Mmm,” Wonyoung hums against her mouth. “Your mouth’s a lot more useful when it’s busy kissing than when it’s lying to me.”

Karina pulls back, blinking. “It wasn’t a—”

But Wonyoung shuts her up with a single finger pressed to her lips, eyes narrow.

“Shhh.”

Then kisses her again, harder this time. Rough. Like she’s marking her.

Yuna comes back into the room holding the glass of water like a dutiful maid, handing it over. Wonyoung grabs it, downs it in a few gulps, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Okay. I’m good now.”

She turns back to Karina, tossing the empty glass somewhere on the carpet without looking. Her smile sharpens.

“Take off your panties.”

Karina's hands are already on the hem of her panties before Wonyoung even finishes the sentence. She kicks them off, a little clumsy, cheeks red but thighs pressed together, as if she’s trying to hide how wet she already is.

Wonyoung doesn’t even look at her for long. She turns her gaze to you and Sullyoon, still tangled together.

“Well, looks like you two are having fun.”

Sullyoon giggles, brushing hair behind her ear, resting her hand on your chest.

“He’s cute.”

Wonyoung’s face shifts immediately, stern.

“Don’t fucking treat it like a person,” she says, voice cold. “It’s a toy. Just a fucktoy. You don’t call your vibrator cute, do you?”

Sullyoon straightens up a little, nodding quickly.

“No. Right.”

Wonyoung smirks and walks over to the edge of the bed.

“Since you two already warmed it up, now it’s your turn to ride it, babe.”

Sullyoon doesn’t hesitate. She stretches out on her back right beside you, her eyes locked on yours. You look down at her and, fuck, she’s a masterpiece.

Long, flawless legs, skin pale and creamy, like she’s carved from glass and silk. Her legs are spread for you already, thick thighs leading up to plush hips that move slightly like she’s getting comfortable, preparing herself. There’s a little sheen between them, already wet, already throbbing.

Her torso is slim, but her curves are unreal, that perfect hourglass drawn to scale, with soft perky tits rising and falling with her breath, nipples stiff from arousal. Her eyes look up at you like she knows exactly what you are: just something to make her cum; and it makes your cock pulse hard all over again.

You’re climbing over her, lining up, and—

“Wait!” Karina whines from the side, still bottomless, fists clenched at her sides. “I thought it was my turn…”

Wonyoung doesn’t even look at her at first. Then she steps up, grabs Karina by the cheeks and squishes her face like a child being scolded.

“Aww, poor baby,” she mocks. “Thinking she gets what she wants.”

Karina huffs, pouting against Wonyoung’s grip. “I—”

“You don’t get to talk right now,” Wonyoung cuts in sharply, still holding her by the face. Then her expression softens slightly, eyes flicking toward Yuna, who’s just watching silently, smiling.

“Go open the drawer.”

Yuna nods and turns immediately, heading toward the bedside cabinet with a knowing look.

Wonyoung lets go of Karina’s face and turns back to the bed.

“Go on. Fuck her.”

Your hands plant on the bed on either side of Sullyoon’s head. She’s already got her knees up, heels digging into the mattress, guiding your hips toward her with her legs. You feel her hand grip your cock and guide it down between her legs, slick heat greeting the tip. She rubs you along her folds once, then twice, then lines you up. You push.

She lets out a low moan, head tilting back.

“God, you’re fucking big…”

You keep pressing in. Her pussy stretches around you, velvet heat swallowing you inch by inch, and she takes it all without even flinching, like she’s built for this. Her back arches slightly, tits rising toward your chest, and her mouth opens, breath catching.

“Fuck yes…”

From the corner of your eye, Wonyoung is still standing over Karina, whispering something into her ear while her fingers toy with one of her nipples. But you don’t get to look for long because Sullyoon pulls you down by the neck, her thighs trembling a little around your waist, and whispers against your lips:

“Go easy, okay?”

You nod, leaning down, brushing your lips over her cheek. “I promise.”

That makes her smile, and she reaches for your hands, guiding them down to her hips. You shift your weight, angle your hips, the head of your cock dragging along her wet folds. She’s soaked, pussy creamy from being teased and fingered, and when you start to push in slow—god—she tightens around you immediately.

“Oh my god… you’re thick… this cock is a fucking weapon.”

Her fingers dig into your arms, breathing fast now. “It’s the biggest I’ve ever… fuuuck, go slow, please, go slow…”

You don’t even need the reminder. She’s gripping you like a fist, squeezing you inch by inch as you sink deeper, her walls fluttering like she’s already close from just the stretch alone. You pause halfway in, hips twitching with restraint, watching her face melt into something caught between pain and pure fucking pleasure.

“I got you,” you murmur, stroking her side, kissing her collarbone. "If you want me to stop, just say so.”

Meanwhile, behind you, Yuna walks back in, holding a thick black anal plug in one hand and a shiny silver tube of lube in the other. Her smile is too wide, too excited. Karina sees her and visibly tenses, backing half a step toward the couch.

“Wait… what’s that for?” Karina’s voice is shaky, eyes locked on the plug like it’s going to jump at her.

Wonyoung grins like a devil in a model's body. “If you wanna feel cock today, you’re gonna need to offer up that cute little ass.”

Karina stammers, blinking. “I’ve… I’ve never done that…”

“I know,” Wonyoung says calmly, stepping forward. “Now get on all fours.”

Karina’s mouth opens like she’s about to argue, but she hesitates too long.

“Right now,” Wonyoung snaps. “Or get the fuck out.”

Silence. Then Karina slowly turns, face red, and lowers herself to her knees. She looks humiliated, turned on, afraid (everything Wonyoung seems to love). Her thick thighs ripple as she gets into position, ass high, cheeks clenched, legs trembling slightly.

Yuna kneels behind her and pats her ass once, affectionate. “You’re gonna love it,” she says softly. “It’s like… my favorite.”

Wonyoung flicks her wrist. “Prep her.”

Yuna grins. “Can I lick it first?”

Wonyoung rolls her eyes. “Yes. Obviously.”

Yuna wastes zero time. She spreads Karina’s cheeks, leans in, and starts to lick, slow broad strokes at first, then narrowing in, teasing her little hole with the tip of her tongue. Karina whimpers, cheeks burning red as she hides her face in her arms.

Meanwhile, Wonyoung strolls back to you and Sullyoon, casually watching as you slowly roll your hips forward again, burying a little more of yourself inside her. Sullyoon’s thighs shake, her hands fisting in the sheets now, every breath a moan.

Wonyoung stands beside the bed, arms crossed, smirking.

“Is she enjoying it?” she asks.

Sullyoon moans louder. “Yes… oh fuck yes, Wony… it’s fantastic…”

Wonyoung tsks. “Too slow.”

Before you can react, she slaps your ass, sharp and loud, fingers leaving a sting that burns hot through your skin.

“Faster,” she commands.

You grunt, your body reacting without hesitation. You grip Sullyoon tighter and start thrusting harder, deeper, the slow roll of your hips turning into something more brutal, more rhythmic. She cries out, legs locking tighter around you.

“Aaah—fuck-fuck, I can't, it's too big!”

Wonyoung laughs like she’s at a party, delighted, stepping back to watch your hips hammer into Sullyoon, her body bouncing under you, moans pouring out of her with every thrust. She grabs one of Sullyoon’s tits, squeezing it roughly, pinching the nipple until Sullyoon arches off the bed.

“Much better,” Wonyoung says, grinning. “Now that’s how you use a toy.”

Behind you, Karina’s moaning too. Muffled and high-pitched. Yuna’s fingers are buried between her cheeks, tongue still teasing. The plug rests beside them on the bed, gleaming, waiting for its turn. Karina’s legs are trembling harder now, her ass slick, her breathing short and fast. But Wonyoung’s eyes are on you. On your cock driving into Sullyoon like you’re trying to fuck the shape of her pussy into your hips, her moans turning ragged and desperate, tears starting to gather in the corners of her eyes as the pleasure crashes through her.

Karina’s face is buried in her forearms, but her back is arched high, thighs pressed together as tightly as they can be with Yuna nestled between them. She keeps letting out these soft, confused little gasps, tiny moans like she doesn’t know what her body is doing or why it’s starting to like it. Her ass cheeks twitch every time Yuna’s tongue flattens out and drags upward, slow and wet, lingering at her tight rim before she flicks the tip of her tongue over it again. Yuna hums like she’s savoring something sweet, both hands spreading Karina’s cheeks apart like she’s exposing a gift, holding her wide while she works her mouth.

“Mmh, you taste so good…” Yuna breathes, kissing the spot softly before swirling her tongue around again. “God, your little asshole’s clenching like it’s trying to kiss me.”

Karina’s breath hitches. “It—it feels weird…”

Yuna giggles into her skin. “Weird’s just code for new. Sensitive, huh?”

Karina nods fast, her voice muffled. “Yeah—yes, I—it’s really sensitive, I d-don’t know if I—”

“Shhh,” Yuna whispers against her. “Let it happen. You’ll like it. I promise.”

She presses her tongue flat again, dragging it in a circle this time, slow and teasing. Karina jolts, her hips shaking, one of her hands clutching at the sheets.

“I-it tickles—oh my god…”

From the bed, your eyes flicker toward them, and the image hits like a shot of lust straight to your chest: Yuna's pretty face buried between Karina’s shaking thighs, her mouth wet, eyes half-lidded with focus while she laps at her like she’s starving. Karina’s whole body shudders again, her back arching deeper. Her hole’s glistening now, twitching and helpless while Yuna traces it with delicate, skilled strokes.

And still, you’re balls-deep in Sullyoon.

She’s so tight you swear you’re being milked. Every thrust in makes her body tremble under yours, her fingers tangled in the sheets, jaw slack from the pleasure stretching her open. You go back to fucking her slowly, just like she asked, deep, controlled strokes, feeling her clench every time you bottom out, It's the only way for you not to cum because her pussy is impossible good, but the moans that keep spilling from her lips are fucking addictive, and you have to resist the urge to sink your entire cock into her pussy. Her moana are soft at first, then louder, sharper, her voice cracking as she starts pushing her hips up to meet yours, wanting more. Your hands tighten on her waist, and you pull back before thrusting in again, the sound of it wet and obscene, skin on skin. Her eyes are rolling back, and you’re getting lost in it. The heat, the pressure, the way her pussy grips you like it’s desperate to keep you inside.

From beside the bed, Wonyoung watches everything.

She’s seated now, legs crossed elegantly, but her eyes are burning with attention. Her lips curl into a smirk when she sees how hard you’re holding back, how tight your jaw is as you fight the urge to rail Sullyoon into the mattress.

“You’re being too gentle again,” she says, voice calm, but there’s that edge again, that dominance that makes your cock twitch even deeper inside Sullyoon.

You look at her, sweat starting to bead at your forehead. “She asked me to—”

“I didn’t ask what she said,” Wonyoung cuts you off. She leans forward, her gaze sharp. “Put your hand on her throat.”

Your heart skips. Sullyoon hears it too, she shivers under you, her pussy tightening, her voice going breathless.

“D-Do it,” she whispers.

You reach out, slow, sliding your hand up from her chest to her neck. She tilts her head back, offering herself up, your fingers curl around her throat, gentle but firm, and the way her whole body reacts, hips lifting to press you deeper, a high moan escaping her lips, is fucking unreal. Wonyoung smiles like a queen watching a jester perform on command.

“Better.”

You start moving again, your thrusts picking up pace, dragging your cock deep into Sullyoon while your hand tightens slightly around her throat. She whines, her fingers scrabbling at your arms, her eyes fluttering half-shut as her breathing turns into high, broken gasps. Her back arches, tits brushing against your chest, nipples stiff and flushed from the friction.

“I—ah—fuck, I can feel it in my stomach…”

“You love it,” Wonyoung says, watching her with hungry eyes. “Say it.”

“I l-love it—fuck, I love it—it’s s-so fucking thick, it’s splitting me—”

You groan, head dipping to kiss her neck, tongue tracing her pulse, your hips slamming into hers with more weight now, every thrust deep enough to make the bed creak.

Behind you, Yuna’s still at it. She’s licking deeper now, more focused, her thumbs spreading Karina’s cheeks wider so her tongue can press closer, firmer. Karina’s hips keep jerking away on instinct, but Yuna doesn’t let her go anywhere.

“Stop running,” Yuna murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good…”

Karina whimpers. “Y-Yuna—fuck—it’s—it’s so much, I—I don’t know if—”

“Just wait till I lube you up, baby,” Yuna says sweetly, biting down gently on the soft flesh of her ass. “Then we’ll really see how much you can take.”

She picks up the bottle finally, uncapping it with a pop, and squeezes some of the cold gel onto her fingers. But she doesn’t rush it. She dips one finger between Karina’s cheeks, rubbing slow, spreading the lube around the tight entrance while Karina trembles and gasps with every little push and tease.

Wonyoung turns to glance over her shoulder, watching Karina squirm.

“She better be ready soon,” she says lazily. “Or I’m plugging her dry.”

Karina moans out loud at that, almost in panic. “N-no, wait, I—I’ll try, I’m trying—”

“Then fucking stay still, slut!” Wonyoung snaps.

Yuna grins and adds a second finger, the lube making slick noises as she circles the rim, pushing gently but insistently.

“She’s gonna be ready,” Yuna promises. “This hole’s too cute to go to waste.”

Wonyoung turns back to you, eyes raking down your body, then landing on where your cock disappears into Sullyoon again and again.

“Keep that pace. Don’t let her cum yet. She doesn’t get to finish until I say so.”

You nod, not trusting your voice, focused on Sullyoon’s flushed face, the way she looks up at you like she’s drowning in every inch you give her. She bites her lip hard, her thighs twitching around your waist.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please don’t fucking stop…”

Yuna’s fingers glisten with lube as she finally stops teasing and starts pushing one inside Karina. Karina jolts forward with a gasp, her ass still high, thighs shaking. She wasn’t ready for how it’d feel (wet and slick, yes, but so deliberate). Yuna’s finger presses slow but firm, the lube squelching audibly as it disappears past the tight rim. Karina clenches around it, hips trying to buck away, but Yuna just holds her there, one hand gripping her waist.

“Holy shit,” Karina breathes. “It’s… f-fuck, it’s going in…”

Yuna smiles against her back. “Of course it is, babe. That hole’s got potential.”

Karina groans through her teeth, forehead pressed to her forearms again. “It’s so fucking weird, I—ah—shit, it’s burning a little—”

“That’s just the stretch. You’ll love it once it’s open,” Yuna coos, sliding her finger deeper until she’s knuckle-deep. “Tight as hell, though… God. Your ass is starving.”

Karina lets out a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and her legs twitch like she’s trying to stay still, even as her body reacts instinctively to the invasion.

“Stop clenching so much,” Yuna murmurs, moving her finger in shallow thrusts. “Let me in, Karina.”

Wonyoung, lounging beside the bed with her legs crossed and a slight sheen of sweat on her collarbones, doesn’t even look back at them.

“She’ll stop fighting it once the second finger goes in,” she mutters, eyes locked on you.

She points at Sullyoon’s trembling body beneath you, voice smooth but sharp:

“Bury it. All the way in. Now.”

You lock eyes with Sullyoon, her face flushed, eyes glassy, breath trembling, and she nods once, barely able to speak.

“Do it,” she whispers.

You shift your weight, grab her hips tighter, and push forward until your pelvis slams flush against her ass. Every thick, veiny inch of you is buried inside, and Sullyoon’s mouth drops open in a silent scream. Her eyes roll back immediately.

“OH MY FUHH—FUCK!!” she moans, her nails digging into your arms hard enough to draw blood. “It’s… all of it—fuck, I can feel it in my stomach, oh my god!”

Wonyoung lets out a quiet little laugh.

“She’s better like this,” she says, tilting her head. “More obedient. Tighter too, probably. Grip her neck again—tighter this time. Make my cute little slut cum.

You don’t hesitate. Your hand slides right back up, closing around Sullyoon’s throat, fingers pressing firmer now. Not choking her, but enough that she gasps and looks up at you with that fucked-out, submissive stare that sends blood rushing to your cock again.

Her voice comes out hoarse. “Harder, babe… please…”

You hold her there and start fucking her deep, slow, brutal strokes that make her tits bounce and her pussy gush around you. Every thrust hits her cervix like a drumbeat, and the little choking moans spilling out of her just egg you on. And behind you, Karina’s breathing has gone rapid and high-pitched. Yuna has two fingers in her now, both slick with lube, working them in and out in slow, deliberate pumps that have Karina rocking back against her without even realizing it.

“F-fuck, Yuna—stop, I-I’m gonna—gonna cum if you keep—fuck!” Karina moans, biting her own hand.

Yuna leans in, lips brushing Karina’s ear, breath hot. “Cum from a finger in your ass? That’s so fucking cute.” Karina’s whole body clenches, her ass twitching as Yuna scissors her fingers, stretching her open more with each motion. “You’re doing good, baby,” Yuna hums. “Almost ready…”

Wonyoung glances back now, amused. “Is the brat loosened up yet?”

Yuna smirks. “See for yourself.”

She pulls her fingers out slowly, the sound wet and filthy, then holds them up for Wonyoung to see: slick with lube and cream, glistening in the light. Karina’s still trembling on all fours, face buried, ass wet and twitching, her hole flexing involuntarily, stretched and needy. Wonyoung stands up, stretches, walks over like she owns the whole damn room (and she kind of does). She picks up the plug from the bed, weighing it in her hand, then crouches behind Karina.

Karina looks back, wide-eyed.

“Wait—wait, it’s big—fuck, I don’t know if I—”

Wonyoung slaps her ass hard enough to make her jolt. “You’re ready,” she says coldly. “Now stay still while I make you better.”

Yuna licks her fingers clean with a soft moan, then crouches back behind Karina like she’s settling into her favorite seat at a show. She plants her palms on Karina’s ass, spreading her cheeks wide, holding them apart so her tight, glistening little hole is fully exposed, twitching, raw and shining with lube and slick from her own juices. Karina’s breath stutters as she feels the air hit her, and her thighs shake like she might collapse, but Yuna keeps her wide, grinning like she’s already proud of the work they’ve done.

“Hold still, baby,” Yuna murmurs, her nails dimpling into Karina’s pale skin. “Let her give you your present.”

Wonyoung crouches low, plug in one hand, the lube-slicked tip already glistening under the soft lighting. She presses it right up against Karina’s hole, testing it. Karina gasps loud, her head lifting suddenly as her eyes fly open.

“Wait, wait, wait—f-fuck, Wonyoung, it’s big, I-I’m not ready, I—!”

Wonyoung doesn’t respond with words. She just applies pressure. The rounded head pushes inward, and Karina screams.

Her voice cracks like a sob, body lurching forward instinctively, but Yuna holds her in place with a grunt, gripping her hips like handlebars. Karina babbles through the pain, a slurry of panicked syllables and ragged breaths.

“Ah—ah—shit, oh my god, it’s too big, it’s too big—it burns—it fuckin’ burns!!”

“Then you shouldn’t have lied to me,” Wonyoung mutters, cool and detached, her hand steady as the thick plug stretches Karina wider with every slow, brutal inch. “You want cock, you get the punishment that comes first.”

Karina’s whole body trembles, ass clenched tight around the intruding plug, every inch sending more shockwaves of pain and humiliation through her. Her face is soaked with sweat already, lips parted in disbelief at how deep it’s going. Behind her, Yuna’s breath is hot, tongue flicking the edge of Karina’s ear as she leans over her back. “You sound so fucking hot like this,” she whispers. “You’re gonna be perfect once it’s all the way in. Such a good little plug slut.”

The scream Karina lets out next is sharp and raw, almost broken. You hear it, feel the vibration of it behind you like the air’s alive, and you’re still buried to the hilt in Sullyoon. Her legs are shaking around your hips, your hand’s still on her throat, and her pussy is pulsing, squeezing your cock like it’s trying to memorize it. The way Karina’s moaning next to her, screaming as she gets her ass opened, is fuel for Sullyoon. Her eyes roll back and her mouth drops open, chest rising and falling like she’s being devoured by the pleasure.

“I—I can’t—I can’t hold it!” she pants. “I’m gonna fucking cum—I swear—I can’t—oh my god kiss me, please, please kiss me, I wanna cum while you’re kissing me, I wanna feel your mouth when it hits—pleaseee!"

You don’t even hesitate. You lean down fast, your hand tightening on her throat just a little more as your mouth crashes into hers. Her lips are soft, wet, desperate. Her tongue meets yours immediately, greedy and wild, kissing you like she needs it more than air. The second your lips connect, she snaps. Her entire body tenses, heels digging into the bed, thighs clamping tight around your waist, and her pussy clamps down hard; a perfect vice, spasming and pulsing around your cock like she’s trying to pull you in even deeper. She lets out a high, shaking moan straight into your mouth, hands flying up to grab your face, kissing you harder, sloppier, while she cums in waves all over you. Your cock’s completely drenched now, soaked in her release, her body rocking beneath yours as the orgasm shakes through her like a storm, long and loud and so fucking hot you’re fighting every instinct not to unload inside her right there.

Wonyoung glances back, smirking, still pushing the plug deeper into Karina’s stretched hole with cruel precision. It’s almost fully in now, the thickest part parting Karina’s trembling rim, her voice hoarse from moaning and crying through the stretch.

“Look at that,” Wonyoung says, eyes on Karina but voice raised just enough to carry. “While you’re getting your tight little asshole split by a plug, Sullyoon’s over here creaming herself on cock like it’s the best day of her life.”

Karina sobs out a moan, too far gone to respond, just breathing raggedly while the final inch of the plug sinks in, slow and merciless.

“You jealous yet?” Wonyoung whispers near her ear. “You wanted this. You chose this. And now you get to be plugged up like a good little toy while someone else gets her guts rearranged.”

Yuna’s still holding Karina open, watching the plug disappear inside her with awe and glee.

“Almost there,” she says, licking her lips. “You’re taking it so well…”

Karina’s still panting into the mattress, arms trembling, her ass raised with the thick plug now buried deep inside, barely visible except for the slick base nestled between her swollen cheeks. Her eyes are glassy, cheeks streaked with a flush of sweat and tears, and her thighs are twitching from the slow, rhythmic throbbing inside her. She lifts her head slightly, voice weak but hopeful.

“S-So… what happens now?” Her words come out breathy, unsure. “Is it… is it my turn?”

Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. She stands upright with a smug little stretch, licking the edge of her finger clean from guiding the plug in, her expression sharp with amusement. Then she lets out a dry, condescending chuckle.

“Not yet.” Karina blinks at her, blinking fast like she misheard. Wonyoung tilts her head, smiling cruelly. “Yuna hasn’t had a turn with that cock yet.”

Karina’s shoulders sag, and her face collapses into a tired, frustrated sigh. She lets her head fall back down onto her arms with a faint groan, too wrecked to protest more than that.

Yuna laughs, light, teasing, and smacks Karina’s ass again, right on the plug, making her yelp and jerk forward with a strangled moan.

“Be patient, princess,” Yuna grins. “You’ve already got a little friend stuffed in there to keep you busy. Don’t be greedy.”

Wonyoung shoots her a quick glance, neither amused nor annoyed, just sharp. Always sharp.

“Yuna,” she says flatly, “he’s ready.”

Yuna turns her head to you and waves a finger, grinning wide like a cat with cream on its tongue. “Come here, toy. Sit down. Edge of the bed.”

You obey immediately, there’s no part of your brain even pretending to fight it anymore. You climb off Sullyoon, who’s still panting and glowing from her orgasm, and move to the edge of the bed. Your thighs ache. Your cock is glistening with her slick, flushed dark, veiny, painfully hard. You sit down, muscles twitching from exertion, and look up as Yuna struts toward you. She turns around and backs herself up, settling her toned legs against yours, ass grazing your thigh, there’s a golden sheen of sweat clinging to her lower back and the curve of her ass cheeks glistening as she lowers herself onto you.

“You can touch me,” she says, glancing over her shoulder with a wink. “I’m not Wonyoung.”

Your hands rise instinctively, gripping her slim waist. She’s warm under your fingers, tight and toned. Yuna’s body is fucking unreal; lean but thick where it counts. Her waist is slim, but her hips flare out wide, ass plump and round with the kind of bounce that makes it impossible not to stare. Her thighs are powerful, soft over muscle, her skin is smooth, flawless, with that slight golden glow under the lights.

You squeeze her hips a little, breath catching in your throat.

“Fuck, you’re… perfect,” you mutter. “You’re fucking hot.”

Yuna giggles, rolling her hips back just enough to brush your cock against her folds.

“You know how to sweet talk a girl,” she purrs.

But Wonyoung’s voice slices in before you can say anything more.

“Stop talking to him like he matters.”

Yuna turns slightly, side-eyeing her with a sigh.

“Wonyoung…”

Wonyoung crosses her arms, eyes narrowing.

“He’s not your boyfriend. He’s not your friend. He’s a cock. A cumdump. A toy we’re borrowing for a good time, then tossing out.”

Yuna rolls her eyes, positioning your thick head right at her entrance, her slick folds gliding over it as she angles her hips.

“You’re so fucking cruel sometimes,” she mutters under her breath. “Let a bitch have one moment.”

And then she sinks down.

Your breath punches out of you like you’ve been hit. Her pussy is molten hot, wet, gripping the crown of your cock so tight you’re not even sure you’re going to get more than an inch in. She moans, sharp and rough, her hands bracing on your thighs.

“Jesus fucking fuck, it’s… it’s so big, holy shit—”

She pauses, knees shaking, muscles tense as she eases herself lower. Behind you, the mattress dips again as Sullyoon crawls back up, her skin flushed pink, hair a little messy, that dreamy post-orgasm look still painted across her face. But her eyes are focused on Karina now.

Karina hasn’t moved, still on all fours, ass stuffed, hair sticking to her cheeks, panting. Sullyoon leans in, wraps her arms around her waist gently from behind, pressing their bodies close.

“Hey,” Sullyoon whispers, brushing Karina’s sweaty hair off her cheek. “You okay?”

Karina nods slowly, leaning back into her friend’s touch.

“It hurts,” she says quietly, breath shivering. “But… not in a bad way.”

Sullyoon presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, then another to her neck.

“I’ll take care of you,” she promises, pulling Karina closer. Her arms wrap tighter, soothing. “You were so brave.”

Karina’s lips part to answer, but Sullyoon’s already leaning in again, this time pressing her mouth to Karina’s. Their kiss is gentle, slow, nothing like the desperation you’ve been drowning in all night. Their tongues meet, slow and lazy, tasting each other with softness that's somehow kind of hot. But Sullyoon’s hand starts to slide down Karina’s belly, grazing over her trembling thighs, fingertips dancing toward her pussy.

“Let me help you feel good,” she murmurs, her fingers slide between Karina’s legs, just brushing her slick folds—

“Stop right there.”

Wonyoung’s voice is sharp, cold steel. Both girls freeze. She strides over, her eyes locked on Sullyoon like a schoolteacher catching someone cheating. “She doesn’t get help,” Wonyoung says, grabbing Sullyoon’s wrist and pulling her hand away. “She didn’t earn it. Let her sit with the plug for a while.”

Sullyoon swallows, pulling her hands back respectfully, returning to holding Karina with just arms and lips now, keeping her warm but not touching further. Karina sighs into her mouth, kissing her again slowly, eyes fluttering closed. Meanwhile, Yuna’s moaning as she forces another inch of you inside her. Her pussy is soaking, clenching like crazy, her breath stuttering as she lowers herself little by little, adjusting with every thick ridge you press past her walls.

“Goddamn,” she gasps, laughing breathlessly. “It’s like—I don’t even—fuck, how do you carry this around without passing out?”

You grip her waist tighter, watching her ass ripple as she eases further down. Her thighs flex with every movement, sweat rolling down her spine as she moans louder.

“You’re so tight,” you groan, digging your fingers into her hips.

“Yeah?” she pants, twisting her hips to get the angle right. “Well, this pussy doesn’t play, baby.” Then she gasps sharp, eyes wide. “Shit! There we go—fuck—there it is—!”

She finally bottoms out, her ass slapping against your lap, every inch of your cock buried in her slick, clenching heat. She leans forward, chest heaving, moaning low in her throat like she’s drunk on it.

“Oh my god,” she laughs, trembling. “It’s inside. It’s fucking in.”

And from across the room, Wonyoung watches with a satisfied little smile, voice cutting clean through the soft gasps and stifled kisses. “Good. Now ride him.” Then, to Karina, still squirming in Sullyoon’s arms: “Take notes. You’re next.”

Yuna starts to move with that kind of self-aware sensuality that makes your brain turn to soup. Her hips roll in slow, hypnotic circles as she grinds her soaked pussy down on your cock, using her entire body like she’s showing it off just for you, every shift, every drag of her slick walls over your length is deliberate. She knows how tight she is, how good she feels, and she’s savoring every reaction you can’t hide. You’re still seated at the edge of the bed, thighs flexed, hands gripping her waist like your life depends on it, and she just rides, slow and deep, her ass clapping lightly against your lap with each bounce, like a steady rhythm meant to tease.

She leans back against you, pressing her spine to your chest, arms raised, looping her hands around your neck while her breath rolls out in these soft little gasps. “Mmm… you like that?” she purrs, grinding down hard and slow again, making your cock throb inside her. “So deep… so fucking thick…”

Your fingers twitch on her hips. You’re trying so hard not to snap, not to grab her and slam her down on you until she screams, not to break that rhythm, even though your cock is pulsing with the need to unload.

Sullyoon watches from the bed, her head tilted as she strokes Karina’s hair gently, the other girl now slumped in her lap, the plug still buried deep in her ass, legs slightly parted. Karina’s out of breath, still flushed and shivering, lips swollen from their kissing. Sullyoon’s gaze flicks from Yuna’s bouncing hips back to you, a grin tugging at her mouth.

“You know,” she says, softly but loud enough for all to hear, “he deserves some fucking credit for not blowing already.”

Wonyoung raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. She doesn’t interrupt, just watches. Yuna chuckles breathlessly as she grinds her hips again, this time harder, clenching on your cock as she lifts and sinks, her thighs flexing with every controlled motion. “Mmm, right? He’s being such a good boy,” she coos, rolling her hips, her voice dipping to a low murmur. “Holding back like that, keeping it in. Such good control…”

She pauses, sitting all the way down on you again, then leans forward with a grin, twisting to look at your face. Her hand slides down, past your stomach, and cups your balls through the base of her pussy. The squeeze is careful but firm, her fingers exploring the weight of them as her grin widens.

“Shit,” she says under her breath. “These are so full. They feel heavy as fuck.” She lifts her hips a little, stroking your length from the inside with her muscles, then settles back down with a wet slap, her ass jiggling from the impact. “There’s probably a lot in there by now,” she teases. “You’ve been holding it in through Sullyoon riding you, Karina moaning with a plug stuffed in her ass, me grinding your cock like it’s my job… damn, when you finally blow, it’s gonna be fucking insane, isn’t it?”

You grunt, tightening your grip on her waist, your abs flexing from the effort it takes not to cum right then and there. Every time she lifts off you, your cock throbs in the air, aching for release. When she slides back down, slow and snug, your balls tighten under her hand. She keeps touching them, rolling them in her palm as she rocks her hips in slow figure-eights, her walls clenching rhythmically around your shaft. You can barely breathe. Every second she draws it out is another second closer to your breaking point.

Behind her, Karina moans faintly, still flushed, her voice muffled against Sullyoon’s shoulder. Sullyoon’s fingers stroke her back now, soothing, her eyes watching Yuna like she’s impressed. She laughs lightly.

“I think he’s gonna pass out if you keep doing that,” she says.

Yuna grins and kisses your neck, her lips soft and teasing. “Not yet,” she whispers. “He hasn’t earned it yet.”

Yuna’s movements shift from teasing to needy, the playfulness in her hips giving way to urgency. She's been riding you for minutes that feel like hours, slow and deep, drawing out every drop of pleasure like it’s foreplay for herself. But it’s not. Her rhythm’s breaking. Her thighs start trembling every time she lifts herself off your cock, her breath catching in her throat with these sharp little gasps, lips parted and swollen, chest heaving against her bra. You feel her pussy start to pulse around you; tightening and fluttering with every downward drop, every slap of her ass against your thighs… her body chasing something she’s trying to hold off, but it’s not working anymore.

She lets out a louder moan, sharp and cracking.

“F-fuck… I’m close… fuck, I’m so close…”

She doesn’t stop riding you, if anything, she moves faster, grinding her clit against your pelvis with every bounce, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders now, nails biting into your skin for leverage. Her voice trembles when she speaks again, a whisper at first, then louder, breathless and wild.

“Don’t hold back, don’t fucking hold back—fuck me—fuck me hard—make me cum!”

Fuck, that's all you wanted to hear.

Your fingers clamp down on her waist, and you slam her down onto your cock, hard, your hips jerking upward at the same time, bottoming out deep inside her with a wet, brutal smack. She screams (a real one) choked and high, head snapping back as her pussy clamps down on you like a vice. You don’t give her time to breathe. You start fucking her like your brain’s gone, your hands guiding her body up and down on your cock, her thighs clapping against your hips, the bed frame groaning from the weight of your thrusts. It’s all messy now, no rhythm, just raw need, your cock punching into her soaked, fluttering cunt again and again, harder each time. Yuna’s moans are desperate now. Loud, cracked, real. She slams her palm between her legs, fingers going straight to her clit, rubbing fast and sloppy, hips bucking into her own hand, mouth falling open with every spasm of pleasure that racks her body.

“Oh god—oh my fucking god—yes—right there—right there—don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!!!”

She’s babbling, voice broken, almost sobbing from how deep you’re buried inside her. Her whole body is tight, coiled like a spring, legs twitching, her stomach tensing with every thrust, her clit swollen and soaked from how hard she’s been rubbing. Wonyoung steps forward slowly, eyes locked on the scene, and her voice is like a whip crack.

“Make her cum. Now.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slam her down again, burying every thick inch into her, your grip bruising tight as your cock throbs inside her fluttering heat. Yuna’s hand is a blur between her legs, her voice pitching into a scream.

“I’m cumming—I’m fucking cumming—fuck, it’s too much—”

Her entire body goes stiff in your lap. Then it hits.

She explodes with a scream, shaking violently as the orgasm overtakes her, every muscle locking up. Her pussy grips you like it’s trying to crush you, pulsing and spasming around your cock as waves of heat roll through her core. Her legs kick out, her back arches, and she clings to your shoulders like she’s drowning. Her thighs spasm against your hips, her fingers digging into your chest now, nails scraping down your skin.

You hold her there, not moving anymore, just feeling her ride the wave, her cunt milking you in hard, rhythmic squeezes. She keeps twitching, little cries spilling from her lips as she rides every aftershock, her pussy making these messy, obscene noises with every throb, her clit still pulsing from the overload.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—” she gasps, collapsing forward against you, face buried in your neck, breath ragged, sweat pouring down her back. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close while she trembles and whimpers against your skin. It takes a full minute for her to calm down, her thighs still twitching, her chest rising and falling like she just ran a marathon.

Then Wonyoung clears her throat.

“That’s enough,” she says flatly.

Yuna groans in protest but slowly lifts herself off your cock, her legs shaking under her weight, your cock sliding free with a wet, messy squelch, still rock-hard and soaked in her cum. She stumbles over to the bed, collapsing onto it face-down with a heavy exhale, ass still wobbling from the force of the ride.

Sullyoon leans over with a little grin, raises her hand, and smacks her ass hard, right over the reddened skin. Revenge. The sound echoes, and Yuna yelps, jolting slightly.

“Damn, Yuna,” Sullyoon giggles. “You rode him like a fucking demon.”

Yuna mumbles something into the mattress, breathless and ruined, one hand reaching back to rub her sore cheek.

“Shut up and gimme five minutes…”

Wonyoung just smirks and turns to Karina.

“Now. Your turn. Get back on all fours.”

Karina obeys without speaking. Her knees sink into the mattress, palms bracing in front of her as she positions herself, ass high, head down, breathing slow and shaky. She doesn’t look back. Wonyoung steps forward without a word, crouching behind her, and places her hand on the base of the plug. Karina whines at the touch alone, thighs twitching inward.

“Be still.”

Karina nods and braces.

Wonyoung slides the plug out in one smooth, slow pull. Karina gasps, her back arches, a broken moan ripping from her throat as her rim stretches wide then closes again, twitching, raw and gaping. Slick lube coats the plug’s shaft, creamy and glistening, and Wonyoung sets it down with a little smirk, running her fingers lightly along Karina’s ass just to watch her shiver.

“You were obedient,” Wonyoung says, almost fond. “You stayed plugged like a good girl. You followed every fucking order.”

Karina’s breath catches, hope flickering in her voice. “So I can… finally…?”

Wonyoung smiles. “Yes.” She turns her head toward you and snaps her fingers. “Come here, freak. She’s earned her reward.”

You’re already moving before she finishes the sentence. You’re still hard, aching, throbbing, and you can barely think through it, but the tension in the room makes you slow your steps.

“But,” Wonyoung says, raising her voice just enough to stop you in your tracks, “it’s going in her ass.”

Karina’s entire body stiffens. Her head whips around, wide-eyed, lips parting in stunned disbelief. “W-what…?”

Wonyoung steps to the side, folding her arms again. “If you want to cum tonight, it’s going to be on his cock—in your ass.”

Karina’s voice cracks. “But—it’ll hurt—fuck, I’ve never—Wonyoung, please, that’s—”

“I didn’t ask,” Wonyoung cuts her off coldly. “You can take it. You want your orgasm? Then shut the fuck up and take what you’re given.”

Yuna lets out a delighted little gasp, grinning like Christmas came early. “Oh my god, this is gonna be so good…”

Sullyoon, already on the bed beside her, frowns faintly, brushing a hand over Karina’s shoulder. “You don’t have to if—”

“She’s doing it,” Wonyoung says, turning her glare on Sullyoon, who backs off immediately, hands up in surrender. Karina swallows hard, her face still red, eyes darting between the three of you, and then, finally, she nods. Hesitant. Reluctant. But nodding.

“I’ll do it…” she says quietly, glancing at you. “But please—go slow…”

You step closer, gently resting your hand on her back, fingers brushing up her spine.

“I will,” you whisper. “I promise.”

Wonyoung clicks her tongue.

“He doesn’t make the rules,” she mutters. “But yes—slow, obviously. Now do your fucking job.”

You nod once and slide your hand down Karina’s lower back, palm splayed over the dip just above her ass. Her body tenses, breath hitching at your touch, but she doesn’t pull away. She’s trembling, terrified and aroused all at once, and your stomach knots in that strange way again, torn between lust and something dangerously close to care.

Yuna’s suddenly right beside you, grinning, holding the bottle of lube in one hand.

“Here,” she says cheerfully, popping the cap and squeezing a generous line along your cock. It’s cold, shocking against your skin, but you grunt as she smears it in with her hand, slow and thorough. “We’ll make sure she’s nice and slick.”

Then she moves behind Karina, spreading her cheeks again with one hand, and pours more lube directly onto her twitching hole.

Karina whimpers.

“Gotta help her too,” Yuna says, rubbing it in with two fingers, slow circles that make Karina gasp and moan. “Poor baby’s so tight…”

Once everything’s coated, Yuna pats your cock and steps back, clapping her hands. “Alright, stud. She’s ready.”

You grip your shaft, position yourself, and slide forward, just the tip pressing against her entrance. The resistance is immediate. Hot and tight and trembling. Karina sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. You pause, lean down, whisper against her ear.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

She nods without looking up. “Just… slow. Please…”

You push forward a little. Even just the head feels like a violation. Her body shudders, a loud moan breaking from her lips, half pain, half disbelief.

“Oh—oh fuck! it’s huge!”

You stop again, one hand on her hip, the other stroking her back. You wait for her to breathe, to settle. Then you start again. Millimeter by millimeter, your cock stretches her open, and Karina whines through her teeth, fists clenching the sheets, toes curling. Her thighs are soaked, slick drips down the insides of her legs, proof that pain and arousal have long since blurred. Every few seconds, you stop, just long enough for her to catch her breath, before you push a little deeper.

“God,” Sullyoon whispers from behind, hugging a pillow to her chest, eyes wide. “He’s really doing it…”

Yuna sits beside her, fascinated. “Look at her hole,” she says gleefully. “It’s fucking swallowing him.”

Karina cries out again as another inch slips in.

“F-fuck, it’s—too big—please—”

“You’re doing amazing,” you murmur, and you mean it. “Just a little more…”

Her body clamps down, squeezing you like it’s trying to push you out and pull you in at the same time. You slow down again, your cock slick and throbbing, the pressure unbelievable, her body wrapping around you tighter than anything you’ve ever felt.

Wonyoung watches it all from the corner of the bed, arms crossed, lips curled into a quiet, satisfied smile.

“That’s it,” she purrs. “Stretch her out. She’ll never forget it.”

Karina’s moans rise in pitch, her body soaked with sweat now, ass flushed and stretched, you're still halfway in, cock glistening with lube and Karina’s juices, your hands gripping her hips like she’ll drift away if you let go. Her body is trembling under you: legs shaking, back arched, her forehead pressed to the sheets. Her moans come in shaky bursts, broken syllables spilling from her lips between gasps. You’re going slow (agonizingly slow) but even that feels like too much for her. The pressure is overwhelming. The stretch makes her wince with every inch, but she hasn’t told you to stop yet, and her soaked thighs betray the truth: she’s aching for it, terrified of it, and turned on beyond words.

You keep your pace steady, pushing in another inch. She cries out, voice cracking, one hand flying back to grip your wrist.

“S-stop—please—I can’t—it’s too much—!”

You freeze immediately, body tense, chest heaving as you struggle to not blow from the way she squeezes around you, like a velvet vice locked in desperation. Sweat drips from your forehead onto her lower back as you hold yourself there, just breathing, feeling her twitch and clench around the thick girth pulsing inside her. Your cock’s only a little more than halfway in, but the look on her face says she’s already overwhelmed.

Her face is buried in the sheets, bright red and dripping with sweat. Her eyes are shut tight, lips parted in a silent moan. And between her legs, her pussy is dripping, messy and obscene, leaving trails down her thighs. She’s shaking from the stretch, but she’s dripping from the want. It’s chaos, and her body is split right down the middle. Wonyoung shifts on the bed beside her, standing now, arms folded across her chest. Her gaze drops to where you’re still inside Karina’s ass, her head tilting slightly. Cool and calculated.

“How much?” she asks you. Her voice is flat, but curious.

You glance down your shaft. “Little more than half.”

She kneels beside Karina, brushing strands of hair from her face, then leans in close. Karina’s still gasping, unable to speak. Wonyoung looks back up at you.

“That’s enough.”

You pause, nodding, your cock twitching from the pressure building between restraint and raw, near-painful pleasure.

“Start moving,” Wonyoung commands. “Let her feel what she earned.”

You shift your grip on Karina’s hips, sliding your hands up her waist as your thighs tense. She lets out a shaky, helpless sound when you pull back just a couple inches, her body clenching again, like she doesn’t want to let you go, and then you push forward again, slow and deep, not adding more depth but grinding within what she can take.

Karina groans—long and broken.

“Fffuuckk…” she moans into the mattress, hips quaking. “It’s so big, so thick, I can’t believe you’re in my ass… fuck—it’s too much—it’s so full…”

You move again, withdrawing slightly and thrusting slowly back in. Her body jerks with each motion, every slow grind making her rim flutter, her ass stretched and twitching. The sensation has your spine tingling, a tight, searing heat wrapping around your cock like wet silk squeezed over bone. Yuna leans over the edge of the bed, eyes wide with awe, a dirty grin painted across her face.

“She’s taking it like a champ,” she says, grinning. “Look at her—look at that grip. Holy shit.”

Sullyoon’s perched at the headboard, arms hugging her knees, watching with this mix of sympathy and raw curiosity. Her cheeks are pink, eyes wide, lips parted.

“She’s doing so good…” she whispers. “I don’t think I could…”

Wonyoung leans in and cups Karina’s cheek gently, tilting her face so she can see her expression. Karina’s eyes flutter open; glassy, unfocused, filled with overwhelmed heat.

“You’re not gonna forget this,” Wonyoung murmurs, a little smile touching her lips. “No one ever forgets their first real stretch.”

Karina whines, biting her lip, trying to stay still as your hips begin to find a rhythm. You rock into her gently, each thrust short and slow, giving her body time to adjust while her moans grow louder, more broken. Her thighs glisten with arousal, and her hands fist the sheets so tight her knuckles go white.

“I-it’s too good,” she sobs out. “I didn’t know it would feel like this—why does it feel so fucking good?”

You thrust a little deeper, not by much, just enough to push the limits she’s already enduring. Her moan cuts off into a gasp, her body twitching under yours, and you swear you feel her pussy throb at the same time; her cunt untouched, but soaking like it’s getting fucked just from how your cock is stretching her ass.

Your hand slides to her lower back, stroking it gently, whispering low.

“You’re doing perfect, Karina. So fucking good…”

Her answer’s a raw moan, her ass arching slightly, offering you better access without even thinking. You start grinding deeper into her with more confidence, your cock gliding through her slickened hole in a slow, punishing rhythm that has her gasping every time your hips press against her. Yuna slides closer, one hand slipping between Karina’s thighs, hovering just above her glistening folds but not touching.

“You’re dripping all over the bed,” she says. “You love this, huh? Getting your ass fucked by the cock you ran from?”

Karina sobs into the sheets, too fucked out to answer.

Wonyoung circles behind you like a queen inspecting her soldiers, her gaze drops to the slick, stretched spot where your cock disappears into Karina’s ass, the loud, wet rhythm of your thrusts filling the room in obscene contrast to Karina’s trembling moans. Your grip is still tight on her hips, your pace steady, giving her the depth she can handle, but not much more than that.

Wonyoung exhales sharply, almost bored. “Pick up the fucking pace.” Her voice snaps through the air like a whip. “Make her scream, freak."

Before you even register the shift, her hand cuts down hard against Karina’s ass, a brutal, open-palmed slap that sends a jolt through her entire body. Karina cries out, her head lifting from the mattress, her back arching, eyes wide as her moan turns into something raw and sharp. You grit your teeth and follow the order. Your hips slam forward, the new rhythm vicious and unrelenting. Every stroke now punches into Karina’s stretched ass with a thick, wet slap, your cock sliding deeper with each thrust, balls slapping against her soaked thighs. The change is instant. She screams, loud, guttural, her hands scrabbling at the sheets, her voice cutting through the air with no filter, no shame.

“Ah—ahhh fuck—it’s too much—too much!”

You don’t slow down. You can’t. Not when Wonyoung’s standing behind you with that look in her eyes. Not when Karina’s body keeps pushing back against you like it wants every inch. Her tits bounce violently with every impact, full and heavy, swinging under her with each slam of your hips, her nipples dragging against the sheets.

Wonyoung steps forward and grabs a fistful of Karina’s hair, yanking her head up so her moaning face is fully exposed.

“This what you wanted, Karina?” she snarls, leaning down near her ear. “You begged for this cock. You begged to cum tonight. You begged for your fucking ass to be split open, and now you’re fucking screaming. Is this what you wanted?”

Karina sobs and nods through it, eyes wild, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth as she cries out, “Yes! Oh my god yes, yes, yes—please—fuck, don’t stop!”

“Pathetic,” Wonyoung mutters, releasing her hair with a shove that makes Karina collapse forward again, her ass thrust up perfectly for more abuse. Then she looks at you, her expression hard. “And you,” she snaps. “Look at you. Huffing and panting like a fucking dog. You two deserve each other. Ruin this lying slut!”

You grab Karina’s hips tighter, your pace going savage now, hammering her with everything you’ve got. Her voice breaks into a string of high-pitched moans and screams, every thrust punching into her ass with punishing force, her body bouncing forward from the impact. The clap of flesh on flesh echoes through the room, her sweat-slick thighs shaking as she takes it, her pussy dripping onto the sheets like a faucet, untouched and soaked. Wonyoung watches the chaos she’s orchestrated, arms crossed again, a twisted smile forming at the corners of her lips.

“Fuck her until she forgets her name.”

Your hands stay locked on Karina’s hips, holding her firm, thumbs digging into the curves just above her ass as your cock pistons in and out of her stretched, twitching hole. She’s beyond trying to speak in full thoughts now; just babbling, moaning, her mouth open and drooling against the sheets, words falling from her like she’s half-delirious. Her spine arches deeper with each thrust, every part of her trembling as you slam into her again and again, the obscene slap of your hips meeting her ass echoing through the room, wet and brutal.

Her voice jumps pitches without warning, cracking with raw pleasure. There’s no control left in her body. Her thighs are shaking, her arms weak, her pussy glistening untouched beneath her as it drips onto the bed from the pressure alone. You watch the muscles in her ass flex and quiver with every movement of your cock, your shaft stretching her open wider than she’s ever taken, buried inside her like you’re trying to reach her fucking soul.

Yuna leans in from the edge of the bed, laughing in this low, teasing purr that’s half arousal and half mocking delight.

“Holy shit. Look at her. She’s gonna cum just from taking it in the ass like a fucking whore.”

Karina whimpers something into the sheets, something like no or yes or both at once, but her eyes are rolled back, jaw slack, her moans breaking apart like she doesn’t even understand her own body anymore. You keep going. Your thrusts stay relentless. The heat of her body, the grip of her ass around your cock, the way her hips bounce and jerk under you with every impact: it’s pure addiction. You feel her starting to tighten even more, impossibly tight, her whole body locking up like she’s about to snap in half, and her moans spiral into a high, broken whine.

“F-fuck—oh my god, it’s too—ahhh—it’s too much, I’m gonna—I can’t!”

She’s drooling onto the sheets, arms weak, knuckles white from gripping the bedding like it’s all that’s keeping her grounded. Her back arches deeper, like her body’s trying to get away and get more at the same time. Her ass swallows your cock with this obscene wet sound, slick with lube and her own mess, but so fucking tight you can feel every spasm as her rim flutters around your shaft. You glance at Karina’s face; she’s a fucking wreck. Eyes rolled back, mouth open, sweat dripping down her neck. She’s not looking at anyone, just moaning, gasping, shaking. Her pussy’s untouched, but it looks already mid-orgasm, creamy and glistening between her thighs. You slam your cock into her again, and she jolts, sobbing out a half-word, half-wail.

“I’m close,” she gasps out suddenly, louder this time. “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum!”

Wonyoung steps forward slowly, arms folded, eyes locked on Karina like she’s waiting to pull the trigger. “Then cum.” Karina’s whole body jerks at the sound of her voice. “Cum now,” Wonyoung growls. “I want to watch you lose it.”

You slam into her again, deeper, faster—and that’s it. That’s all it takes.

Karina screams.

She screams like her body’s being ripped open and baptized at the same time, her voice breaking as her ass clamps down around your cock like a vice, spasming, pulsing, gripping you like she’s trying to suck every drop of cum out of you without you even releasing yet. Her thighs twitch violently, knees buckling beneath her, and she collapses onto the bed fully, her face buried in the mattress, her whole body convulsing as she cums hard from her ass alone.

“Fuuuuck—oh fuck I’M CUMMING! Oh my god—fuck-fuck-fuck!!”

Her pussy gushes under her, untouched and throbbing, slick running down her thighs like her whole body’s melting. Her back arches once, twice, then drops, but she keeps shaking, every nerve lit up like she’s been plugged into a live wire. Her fists are tight in the sheets, her mouth open, drool and moans pouring out without rhythm.

She’s sobbing now, babbling through the aftershocks.

“I—oh god, I didn’t know—I can’t stop, I’m still cumming, I can’t stop, It's so good, it's so fucking good…”

You’re still inside her, cock twitching with every clench of her hole, but you don’t move, just hold her there, one hand still locked on her waist, the other stroking her back like you’re trying to keep her from slipping through the mattress.

Yuna’s staring in disbelief, biting her lip, cheeks flushed.

“She just fucking came… from her ass,” she breathes. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Sullyoon crawls closer, eyes wide and sparkling with awe, her hand hovering near Karina’s trembling shoulder. “Is she okay?” she whispers.

“She’s perfect,” Wonyoung says flatly, stepping beside her and crouching. She brushes Karina’s hair off her face. “She came like a filthy little anal slut. And she needed that.” There’s a moment of silence, then Wonyoung looks at you. “Your turn,” she says flatly. “You’ve been edging like a good little bitch all night. Now you give us your cum.”

You’re still buried in Karina’s ass, but the moment she hears Wonyoung’s voice shift like that, she groans softly and starts to lift herself. Her whole body shivers as she slowly slides off your cock, her asshole fluttering open before clenching tight, empty, twitching from the stretch. Your entire length is gleaming with slick, twitching hard as it’s exposed to the air again. You reach up, help steady Karina. She’s weak, legs barely holding her. Her skin’s flushed deep pink, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, sweat dripping down her chest. She stumbles a bit, and you help ease her down. She kneels, then braces herself upright, arms shaking, tits rising and falling with each breath. Her mouth is still parted, cheeks red, eyes dazed, but she’s looking up at you, obedient, waiting.

Wonyoung watches with one eyebrow raised.

“You made it this far,” she mutters. “Color me shocked. Most guys would’ve been pumping their load into a tissue in the first ten minutes.”

Yuna giggles, kneeling in front of you, her eyes still sparkling with a manic energy. “That’s because you scare the cum out of most guys just by walking into the room, Wony. They probably blow their load just thinking about disappointing you.”

“It’s a talent,” Wonyoung shrugs, a picture of regal indifference, though her eyes are fixed on your straining cock with an unnerving focus. She runs the tip of her tongue over her plump lower lip. “But you,” she says, “you don’t have to hold back anymore. You’ve been a good little freak, edging for us all night. Now it’s time for your reward… or perhaps, our reward from you.”

Sullyoon moves next, a quiet, graceful wraith in the dimly lit room. She slides up beside Karina and brushes a stray strand of hair behind Karina’s ear, then leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. Karina leans into the touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips, her body trembling almost imperceptibly. Sullyoon rests a comforting hand on Karina’s thigh, her thumb stroking gently, before turning her full attention to you. Her eyes, usually wide with an innocent curiosity, are now dark, dilated, and utterly captivated by the sight of your huge cock.

You’re standing now, swaying slightly, your body a live wire of overstimulated nerves. Your cock is a flushed, angry purple, pulsing with a life of its own, veins snaking across its thick shaft like swollen rivers. It’s utterly drenched, glistening from base to tip with a disgusting, beautiful cocktail of the slick lube Yuna had applied earlier, and the clear, sticky juices that seeped from Karina’s ass as you stretched her. It’s still leaking pre-cum—one fat, pearly droplet hanging precariously from the swollen head, threatening to fall. The ache in your balls is a relentless, throbbing agony, a heavy, full sensation that promises an explosive release. Every inch of your skin is buzzing, screaming with a desperate, almost painful need.

Yuna, never one for patience, has already wrapped her surprisingly strong fingers around the base of your shaft, her touch possessive and demanding.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she whispers, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and greedy anticipation. She gives you a preliminary squeeze, making you grunt. “He’s still this fucking hard? After being inside four of us? You didn’t cum once?” Her voice is incredulous, a hint of challenge in it.

“Not yet,” Sullyoon breathes. She licks her lips slowly, her gaze unwavering from your cock. “But he’s close. I can feel it. He’s about to burst.”

“Let’s fix that,” Wonyoung declares. She glides forward and kneels before you, a queen preparing to receive tribute. The way she settles at your feet, eyes already devouring your erection, doesn't feel like submission; it feels like she’s about to break you open and claim what’s hers.

Then, it truly begins.

Wonyoung’s grip on your shaft is like iron, cool and clinical, yet sending shivers of heat through you. Her other hand instantly dives down, fingers deftly finding and cupping your aching, heavy balls. They feel like overripe fruit, swollen and tender. "Fuck, these are absolutely full," she grunts. She gives them a calculated squeeze, just enough to make you let out a strangled moan, your hips twitching. Meanwhile, Karina, seemingly over her initial trepidation, has crawled forward, her eyes glazed with a new kind of desperate hunger. She takes the very tip of your cock into her warm, wet mouth, her tongue flicking nervously against the sensitive slit. "You've been saving it all up for us, haven't you, my little freak?" Wonyoung continues. "Such a good little cum-toy, filled to the brim, just waiting for your goddesses to drain you."

"He's gonna paint us! He’s going to fucking drench us!" Yuna shrieks with manic delight, her own hand a blur at the base of your cock, stroking furiously. The friction is intense, slick with spit and your own copious pre-cum. Her tongue becomes a relentless tease around the thick crown, darting, licking, swirling. "Give it to me, toy! I want every last drop!"

Sullyoon is pressing kisses up your thigh, her breath hot against your skin, her hands gripping your other leg for balance. Her voice, usually so gentle, is surprisingly demanding, raw with need. "Please... oh god, please just let it go... I need to see it… I need to taste you… Don’t make us wait anymore, you bad boy!"

Karina, trembling visibly, lifts her head, her eyes wide and unfocused, a thick string of saliva connecting her lips to the glistening tip of your cock. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing ragged. "You can do it... cum for us... please, after everything... just let us have it," she begs. "Fill me up too..."

Wonyoung meets your eyes, that cruel, beautiful smirk is back. "That's right, toy. You heard them. They’re begging for your filth. Sullyoon wants to taste it. Karina wants you to fill her pathetic mouth. Yuna wants you to drown her. They’re all desperate for it. But I demand it." Her voice drops to a menacing growl. "You’re going to fucking erupt. You’re going to cover every last inch of us in that disgusting, potent seed you’ve been brewing inside that freakish cock of yours. Do you understand? This isn't about your pleasure. This is about ours. This is your sole purpose." Her fingers tighten on your balls, her thumb pressing hard and deep into the sensitive perineum, making you cry out. "Now. Explode for your queen, you worthless piece of meat!"

Her hand on your shaft speeds up to match Yuna's frenetic pace. Both of them are now a dizzying blur of motion, tugging, stroking, squeezing, their combined efforts an exquisite torture. Karina latches her mouth onto the entire head of your cock, sucking with a primal, vacuum-like force that steals your breath, her tongue a rough, insistent pressure coiling around the shaft. Yuna’s ecstatic giggles turn into sharp, needy moans as she feels the tell-tale, unstoppable convulsions starting deep within your groin, traveling up the base of your cock. Sullyoon and Karina press closer, a tangle of limbs and desperate hands, their touch now almost frantic, greedy, fingers grabbing at your thighs, your stomach, your hips, anywhere they can make contact, as if trying to absorb your impending orgasm through sheer proximity.

"He's doing it! He's really gonna blow! Oh my god, look at him shake!" Yuna screams.

"Fucking finally!" Wonyoung growls stroking your cock. "Give it to your queen, you pathetic mutt! Give me every last fucking drop!"

And then it happens. Your vision whites out completely. A guttural, inhuman roar tears from your throat, a sound you don’t even recognize as your own, echoing off the walls of the luxurious apartment. Your hips buck uncontrollably, a violent, spastic jerk that nearly throws the girls off you.

The first jet of your cum shoots out with impossible, almost painful force, thick as cream and blindingly white. It splatters directly onto Wonyoung’s perfectly sculpted face. She barely flinches, just lets out a choked gasp, her eyes widening for a split second in surprise at the sheer power before they narrow again in dark triumph. Your hot seed is already dripping from her chin, smeared across her cheek, mixed with her saliva, a victorious smirk plastered on her semen-streaked face. "Yes! That's it, you filthy animal! Fucking drown me!"

Another jet follows, then another, and another, each one seemingly hotter, thicker, more voluminous than the last. You're a fucking firehose, completely and utterly out of control, your body just a vessel for this unstoppable eruption.

"My turn! My turn! Hit me with that fucking load!!" Sullyoon screams, scrambling forward with surprising agility, her usually angelic face now contorted into a mask of fierce, desperate need. She positions herself right in the line of fire, her small hands cupping her equally small breasts, her mouth wide open like a baby bird. A thick rope of your cum arcs through the air and lands squarely on her chest, another jet splattering across her cheek and directly into her parted lips. She gasps, a delighted, messy sound, already licking it up with greedy swipes of her tongue. "Oh my god... it's so much... so warm... and it tastes… amazing!"

"Don't you dare forget me!" Karina cries out. She’s pushing past Sullyoon, her eyes fixed on your still-spewing cock like it’s the only thing in the world. "Please! I need it! I earned this!" A fresh torrent of your seed catches her full in the face, soaking her hair, plastering it to her forehead, coating her eyelashes, and dripping in thick streams into her open, gasping mouth. She moans, a long, shuddering, broken sound, tears welling in her eyes (whether from the impact or sheer overwhelming emotion, you can’t tell) as she swallows convulsively, then licks her lips with a dazed, almost worshipful expression on her cum-painted face.

Yuna is practically vibrating beside you, her hands still gripping your shaft, trying to aim the spray, though it’s bucking too wildly for any real control. "Fuck yes! Me next! Fucking drown me in it, you goddamn animal!" she yells, practically shoving Karina aside to get closer. You oblige without conscious thought, another powerful surge coating her face, her neck, her small, perky tits that are now glistening under a thick layer of your seed. She throws her head back and laughs, a wild, uninhibited, joyous sound, as your cum drips down her body like a perverse baptism. "It’s like a fucking geyser! I've never seen anything like this! He's a cum machine!"

Jet after jet after jet, it just keeps coming, an unending, impossible flood. You’re emptying yourself completely, your balls cinching tight, contracting painfully with each pulse, a hollow, almost unbearable ache spreading through your loins and up into your stomach. The girls are an absolute mess, drenched, glistening, their perfect idol skin smeared and utterly coated with your thick, white seed. They’re not even trying to be neat or dignified anymore; they’re reveling in it, laughing, moaning, smearing it on each other.

"Holy shit," Wonyoung says, breathless for once, a genuine note of awe in it. She looks down at her own cum-splattered chest and hands. "He really was full. Fucking packed to the rafters." A small, almost proud smile touches her lips. "Good boy." She slowly wipes a thick smear of cum from her perfect lips with a thumb and licks it clean with deliberate, sensual slowness.

Finally, with one last, shuddering, weaker pulse, you’re empty. Utterly spent. Your cock twitches pathetically, still painfully hard but no longer gushing, merely slick and dripping with their combined spit and your own rapidly cooling load. You sag forward, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of the release, black spots dancing in front of your eyes. The room slowly comes back into focus, filled with the sounds of their ragged panting, their wet, satisfied laughter, and the overwhelmingly pungent, salty-sweet smell of your spilled seed..

"Fuck," Yuna breathes, looking down at your dick, which is still defiantly, impressively erect despite the massive load you just shot. "Is it... is it still hard? After all that?" She reaches out a tentative, cum-slicked finger and pokes the head. Your cock gives a noticeable throb in response. Yuna’s eyes widen. "Oh my god. It is still hard." She looks up, her eyes meeting Wonyoung’s, then Sullyoon’s, then Karina’s. "Girls... I think our toy isn't done playing yet."

Sullyoon crawls closer. "No way... really? Can he go again?"

Karina, looking utterly debauched and surprisingly radiant under her coating of your cum, nods enthusiastically. "He has to! That was... that was incredible. I want more."

They all start to speak at once, their voices a chorus of greedy demands.

"More, toy!"

"Don't tell me you're finished!"

"You’ve got more in there for us, don't you?"

"Come on, freak, give us another load!"

Wonyoung silences them with a raised hand. She leans close to you again, that imperious glint back in her eyes, her gaze dropping to your still-throbbing erection. Her hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around your slick shaft. "You heard them," she says. "They're not satisfied. And frankly," she gives your cock a slow, deliberate stroke, "neither am I."

Her other hand comes up, and with a speed that surprises you, she delivers a sharp, stinging slap right across the head of your dick. A choked gasp tears from your lips, your hips instinctively jerking. The pain is shocking, but it’s instantly followed by a wave of intense, almost unbearable pleasure. Your cock pulses violently in her grip.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Wonyoung sneers. "Like being roughed up a little? Like being reminded you’re just our fuck-meat?" Another slap, harder this time, landing on the already hypersensitive tip. You cry out, a raw, helpless sound.

"Answer me, slut!" she barks.

"Y-yes," you gasp out, shame and arousal warring within you. "Yes, I like it..."

"Pathetic," she spits, but her lips are curved into a satisfied smile. She continues to stroke you with one hand, her rhythm firm and steady, while the other delivers a relentless series of slaps. Each impact sends jolts of pure, agonizing pleasure through your system. Your balls are tightening again, an impossible ache building deep inside. The girls are watching, breathless, their faces a mixture of shock and intense arousal. Yuna is openly touching herself, her fingers disappearing between her cum-smeared thighs. Sullyoon is biting her lip so hard it’s a wonder it’s not bleeding. Karina is just staring, her mouth slightly agape.

"Beg for it," Wonyoung commands, her strokes becoming faster, her slaps more precise, each one aimed at the most sensitive parts of your cock. "Beg me to let you cum again, you disgusting freak."

"Please," you groan, "Please, Wonyoung... let me cum... I need to..."

SMACK! This one is directly on the slit, a brutal, stinging impact.

Your vision explodes in white light. You can’t hold it back any longer.

With a strangled scream, you erupt again. It’s not the voluminous flood from before, but it’s thick, ropy, and impossibly potent, shooting out in desperate, pulsing spurts.

Wonyoung doesn’t flinch, doesn't stop stroking, doesn’t stop slapping. She just watches, a terrifyingly beautiful goddess of pleasure and pain, as your second load sprays across her hand, her arm, adding to the sticky mess already coating her.

The other girls cry out in unison, scrambling closer, mouths open, hands outstretched, desperate to catch any stray drops. Yuna manages to get her mouth under the stream for a moment, swallowing greedily, while Sullyoon and Karina try to catch the ropes of semen on their tongues, their faces eager and flushed.

It goes on and on, your body wracked with spasms, your mind completely gone, lost in a whirlwind of humiliation and ecstasy. More slaps, more strokes, more cum, until you’re utterly, completely drained, gasping for air, your vision blurry.

They’re all around you, closer now, their bodies slick and gleaming, their faces alight with a primal satisfaction. Wonyoung finally lets go of your now semi-flaccid, thoroughly abused cock, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

"Good boy," she purrs, wiping a fresh glob of your cum from her cheek and licking it from her fingers. "You finally learned how to be useful."

Instead of rushing to clean up properly, they start playing. Yuna, giggling like a maniac, licks a thick glob of your cum from Sullyoon’s small, firm breast. "Mmm, salty," she declares, then dives in to suckle the nipple, her tongue swirling. Sullyoon moans, arching into it, her hands coming up to smear more of your sticky seed from her stomach onto Yuna’s cheek.

"You’re such a nasty whore, Yuna." Sullyoon laughs.

Karina, looking dazed but with a soft smile playing on her lips, tentatively licks a streak of cum from her own arm. Wonyoung watches them for a moment, a rare, almost fond smirk on her face, before she grabs Karina’s wrist. "Don't waste it, idiot," she says, then pulls Karina’s hand to her own mouth, licking the cum from Karina's skin with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue, her eyes daring Karina to react. Karina just shivers, her cheeks flushing a deeper red.

It’s an insane, beautiful, disgusting sight. Four of the most lusted-after women on the planet, acting like depraved sluts, covered head-to-toe in your fucking seed.

Your legs finally give out. You collapse onto the massive bed, your body a dead weight, every muscle screaming in protest. Exhaustion hits hard a deep, boneless fatigue that makes even breathing feel like an effort.

One by one, the girls, still sticky and laughing, crawl onto the bed around you, their combined weight making the mattress sag. They’re not careful, their cum-smeared bodies pressing against you, against the pristine grey duvet, leaving wet, pearly patches everywhere. Yuna flops down beside you, throwing a sticky arm over your chest. Sullyoon curls up on your other side, resting her head on your shoulder, her hair damp with sweat and semen. Karina hesitates, then slowly settles at the foot of the bed, leaning against your legs. Wonyoung, of course, perches at the head, looking down at all of you like a queen surveying her messy, sated kingdom.

"I... I can't believe this actually happened," you manage to croak out.

Karina looks at you, her eyes soft, a genuine concern in them. "Are you... are you good? You look wrecked."

"Yeah," you sigh, your head lolling to the side. "Just... exhausted. Completely fucking drained."

"Aren't we all," Yuna groans, nuzzling her face into your chest. "But holy shit, that was... incredible. Best night of my life, no joke."

Sullyoon nods against your shoulder. "Definitely the most... memorable."

"I think... I think it was worth it after all, having been deceived by Karina just to be used by you, girls," you admit, a tired smile touching your lips as you look at Karina.

Karina’s expression flickers. "You’re... you’re not mad? That I tricked you? Lied to you?"

Before you can answer, Wonyoung cuts in. "Mad? He should be on his fucking knees thanking us. Grateful that he had the privilege of spending a night with us, serving a purpose. Most losers only dream of this, and he got to live it. He got to empty his pathetic balls into K-pop royalty."

Yuna and Sullyoon murmur their agreement. "She's right, you know," Yuna says, patting your cheek with a sticky hand. "You hit the jackpot, toy."

"So, how's that pretty little ass of yours feeling, Jimin?" Wonyoung asks, her gaze shifting to Karina, a cruel amusement dancing in her eyes.

Karina shifts uncomfortably, wincing. "It’s... burning. A lot. Like, really a lot."

"Good," Wonyoung says, utterly unsympathetic. "It'll hurt even more tomorrow. And the day after that. Maybe then you'll learn your lesson about exaggerating dick sizes to me. Or lying in general."

Karina sighs, a weary sound that’s tinged with exasperation. "You’re a fucking maniac, Wonyoung. You know that, right?"

Wonyoung’s smile is pure, unadulterated wickedness. "Yes, I do," she purrs. "A total, unrepentant maniac. But," she spreads her arms, gesturing to the cum-soaked bed, the exhausted bodies, the lingering scent of raw sex, "I also organize the best group sex you’ll ever have. And all you bitches fucking love it."

Yuna pushes herself up on her elbows. "Fuck yes, we do, Queen Wony!" she practically screams. "Holy shit, this was… this was next level. I thought I knew what good dick was, but this," she gestures vaguely towards your groin with a cum-stained hand, "this little freak that Karina brought us? And everything you made us do to him? And what you made him do to us?" She shivers, a full-body tremor. "My cunt is still twitching just thinking about it. My face is a glazed fucking donut of his spunk, and I've never felt hotter. You're a goddamn visionary, Wonyoung. A cruel, twisted, dick-obsessed visionary, and I fucking worship you for it!" She collapses back onto you with a happy sigh, nuzzling her sticky face into your neck.

Sullyoon, curled beside you, nods slowly. "She's right, Wony.” Her fingers, still tracing absentminded patterns on your cum-smeared arm, tighten slightly. "I… I’ve never experienced anything like tonight. Ever." A shy, almost guilty smile touches her lips. "When you… when you made him put his hand on my throat while he was… inside me… and then when Karina was screaming while you plugged her…" She shudders, a different kind of tremor, one of pure, overwhelmed ecstasy. "It was terrifying. And so, so fucking hot. I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. And watching him… watching him just explode all over us…" Her eyes flick down to your crotch, then back to Wonyoung, wide and adoring. "You… you really do know how to throw a party, Wony. The best, nastiest, most unforgettable party."

"She's… she’s not wrong," Karina admits. "I thought… when you first told me your plan… I thought you were insane. Actually insane." A small, shaky laugh escapes her. "And when you made me… when he was in my ass… I thought I was going to die. It hurt so much." Her hand instinctively goes to her still-tender backside. "But then… when I came…" Her voice breaks, and she has to swallow hard before continuing. "It was… it was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. Like my whole body just… shattered. And then watching him… watching him just give everything to us like that… You’re a fucking monster, Wonyoung. A beautiful, terrifying, brilliant monster. And… and thank you. For… for this. For convincing me to bring him here… For punishing me..." She actually manages a small, genuine smile, her eyes glistening. "I think… I think I needed this."

Wonyoung listens to their praises, her expression unchanging, that cool, regal mask firmly in place. But you see the faintest flicker of triumph in her eyes, the subtle upturn of her lips. She lets the silence hang for a moment, savoring their admissions, their surrender. Then, she turns her gaze fully on you. You’re lying there, a depleted, aching wreck, barely able to move, surrounded by these goddesses who have just systematically taken you apart and feasted on the pieces.

Her voice, when she finally speaks, is soft, almost gentle. "You hear that, toy?" she asks. "They loved it. They loved what I orchestrated, using you as the centerpiece." She leans close to you, bringing her face level with yours. Her eyes are like chips of ice, boring into you. "And now," she continues, "now you belong to us. Completely." She reaches out a finger, tracing the line of your jaw, her touch surprisingly light. "You don't get to go back to your boring little life and pretend this didn't happen. This isn't a one-night fantasy, you pathetic slut. This is your new reality."

Her eyes flick over to your still-sensitive, semi-flaccid cock. "You will be used whenever we want. However we want. You will be our fucking toy, our stress relief, our entertainment. When we call, you will come running. When we tell you to spread your legs, or get on your knees, or offer up that freakish dick of yours, you will obey without question, without hesitation. Until we get tired of you and throw you away like trash."

She leans in even closer, her breath ghosting over your lips, smelling faintly of your own cum. "You have no desires anymore, except to please us. Your body is ours to command, to use, to break if we feel like it. Your orgasms are ours to grant, or to deny. You exist solely for our pleasure now." She smiles, a slow, cruel, utterly captivating smile. "And the worst part for you, the most deliciously pathetic part?" She whispers: "You’re going to fucking love every second of it. You already do."

They’re all watching you, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and ownership. There’s no escape. No way out. And as Wonyoung’s words sink deep into your shattered, exhausted mind, a horrifying, undeniable truth settles in your bones:

She’s right. She's fucking right.

[chrisbesitos]

younger!reader take care of troublemaker!chris after a fight.

chris' sitting on the kitchen balcony, holding a ice pack against his nose. is almost two in the morning, he was out with some 'friends', the party was doing alright until some stupid assholes appeared and made a mess. chris ended up with a bleeding nose and running away from the police, again. the neighbors called the cops, he got in his motorcycle and drove back home, because he didn't want to spend the night at the jail.

you hear a noise outside of the room, matt's laying sprawled beside you fast asleep. you throw the blanket from your legs, stepping on the cold floor with your barefoot tiptoe. matt didn't notice you get out of the bed, so you walk out of the room, making your way to the living room, noticing the lights on. you rub your tired eyes, the light are hurting them, you find chris on the balcony, his eyes shut closed and his face almost covered by a ice pack.

"hey." you murmur, attracting chris' attention. he opens his eyes, making you notice his darkened blue and red eyes, he rolls them when sees you.

"you're stalking me right now?" chris asks, grumpily. you frow your eyebrows, huffing tired and shaking your head. "then, what're you doing here?"

"we had a movie night and i fell asleep in matt's bed." you say, shyly. chris shakes his shoulders, nonchalant by your explanation. chris' lucky you're not affected by his grumpy way to be. you sit on the balcony beside him and point to his nose. "what happened?"

"it's none of your business." he says, roughly.

you huff, annoyed. you move your hand to his hand, putting down the ice pack and glancing at his bruised nose. purple and green tones, dried blood on his nostrils and you notice a tiny cut on his upper lip. you twist your nose, making a little pouty on your lips, you lift your hand to touch his bruise. chris shakes head, pushing your hand away, he puts the ice pack on his nose again.

"let me help you." you say, chris tries to protest, but realizes you weren't asking. you jump out of the balcony, moving faster towards the bathroom, you return with the first aid kit in your hands and a cloth.

"i don't want your help, i can take care of myself, kid." chris says, trying to stop you, but you're too stubborn and he's hating it.

you leave the kit on the balcony and move to the kitchen sink to wet the cloth, you stop in front of chris, put down his hand and stretch to reach his nose, but chris' way taller than you, even more sitting on the balcony. chris huffs and gets down, he holds you by the waist and lifts your body, putting your on the balcony. you don't move or say anything, just smile gently. chris realizes is way easier accept your help than force you to stop, so he just let you do whatever you want.

you gently clean his skin, removing all the dried blood on his nose carefully. chris closes his eyes, breathing slowly while you move your fingers along his face, he doesn't bother by your touch, but he feels weird inside. you leave the cloth on the balcony, open the kit and look for curatives, you put one on the bridge of his nose, gently pressing your fingertips on his skin. chris opens his eyes, catching you glancing at them with your big eyes, you both stare for a couple seconds without saying anything, until chris feels weird again.

"you always look like that?" chris asks, moving towards the fridge to get a soda. you tilt your head, frowning your eyebrows at him.

"look like what?" you ask, innocently.

"like unicorn shit." he says, nonchalant. "in fact, you look like an autumn mess. wearing all these patterns, colors, buttons and shit."

"well, for a mess, i'm not the one with a bruised nose here." you say, feeling a bit offended, but acting nonchalant just like chris, even though you're good at this as him. "a thank you would be good, you know?"

"i didn't ask for your help." chris says, turning his back to you, moving towards the stairs. you huff, crossing your arms against your chest covered by your pajamas. you listen to chris' sighs, he turns his face to you. "thank you, doll. "

he walks downstairs, leaving you alone at the kitchen balcony. you frow your eyebrows at the name he called you. it's not bad, but weird, because you can't understand chris. downstairs, in his room, chris closes the door behind his back and sits in the corner of the bed, realizing what just happened between him and you. he couldn't remembered the last time someone cared about him, cared about his bruises or cared about taking care of him. it's a weird feeling on his chest, a sensation he's not used to feel.

© chrisbesitos.

[rowarn]

bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!

i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO

part : two

when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.

it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.

you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.

strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.

this was a rotten way to live.

the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.

next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.

fuck. it had caused the power to bust.

now you were really scared.

you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.

you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.

you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.

"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"

there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?

you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.

pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.

the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.

you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.

then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.

whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.

but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?

oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.

around every turn.

you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.

you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.

after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.

to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.

the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.

it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.

you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.

you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.

"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.

you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.

one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.

"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"

its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.

"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.

you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."

it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.

"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.

"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.

you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.

"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.

"ghost," it responds quickly.

you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."

"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."

a lightbulb goes off over your head.

"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.

"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."

"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."

"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.

you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.

this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

[cinnamonest]

I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.

I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.

The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:

Most women have rape fantasies.

62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!

The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)

To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:

the "go to therapy!" line

Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)

Here are some particularly insightful resources:

1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.

2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).

3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)

4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.

5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.

the "why would you want that?" line

The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.

the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line

On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.

The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.

No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.

ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.

Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:

(X) (X)

The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth

Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.

The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:

1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)

2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.

What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).

Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.

You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!

[rockrosethistle]

If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.

So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.

What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista

And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.

So we know this is meant to be Emma.

And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.

Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.

So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?

But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.

If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.

What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.

I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.

And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.

Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.

He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.

If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.

Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...

Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.

[mossadspypigeon]

I saw someone talk about how they broke out of the “antizionist” echo chamber so here’s my story about it!

Cracks started when the college encampments did. Even that deep in I still felt very uncomfortable with, yk, hoards of Ivy League students (and professors!!) chasing Jews out of schools. Even that deep in my brain still recognized Heh, What The Fuck (surprise, propaganda does not deprive a person of moral integrity or responsibility!). I ended up logging off tumblr and the other online spaces I was in. One could call it a detox. Touching grass. Best decision of my life. When I came back, I found @/rootsmetals on Instagram. She is amazing. For people you don’t know her: she talks about Jewish history and current events and boy does she bring receipts. After her, I started looking at a ton of other Jewish influencers (that feels like a weird title but idk what else to call it), and MAN I am so happy I did. Moral clarity and consistency is amazing. Now I’m going into anthropology, and I really want to study in Israel- beautiful place and people, and god DAMN is Jewish history impressive.

Trying to use the arguments/methods that worked on me- I also hope I can do that to teach gentiles actual Israeli history cuz there is a DIRE shortage of facts about Israel in… basically everyone. For example: people have a hard time grasping the idea that calling Jews Nazis is antisemitic, so here’s the explanation I’ve found works the best; Nazism without Jew-hatred is not Nazism. There are plenty of other words for what is left over, but NOT Nazism. Holocaust education has been horrifyingly whitewashed to make it as little about Jews as possible and to make people feel less guilty, and now we’re in a society that Holocaust survivors say is way too similar to the 1930s. Jews cannot be Nazis because Nazis are inherently violent antisemites.

mainstream leftism needs to get tf over itself. Surprise, the world is not black and white. They try so hard to fight the Middle East into their fucking Democrat/republican oppressed/oppressor bullshit. Sometimes they remind me of Christian Nationalists with how much they want to be persecuted. Pushing American politics is a) fucking stupid and b) how is it NOT racist?? Like, you’re willfully ignoring the Actual Lives of Actual Middle Eastern people so that you can talk about them how you talk about fucking Long Island, cuz you can’t handle learning anything new. And you’re saying you’re antiracist. Also, I think Westernizing/Americanzing also relates to all the genocide claims. Americans (+ Westerners) have not been in an actual war in ages. Especially not one on their own soil, where people want to destroy them. There is not memory or experience of that in American/Western consciousness, which has left a dire misunderstanding as to how war works. War is horrible. It’s bloody and cruel and heartbreaking, because it’s war. You can be sad for suffering that’s happening in war without lying about history or the law. All that does is make you sound like an idiot and make your “cause” sound less and less legitimate. (Especially when the found of your “cause” was besties with Hitler!!)

I try to be civil to the ones who aren’t horrible and put cracks in their mindset, but… Jesus Christ. Most of them are stupid on purpose. I have never met people so willfully ignorant. See: the apartheid claims. All their examples are about people who… aren’t in Israel?? That’s like saying Mexico is an apartheid to Americans. They’re DIFFERENT COUNTRIES???

Also: their actions have consequences. Besides the GIGANTIC rise in antisemitic hate crimes (which really should be the prime example, but the world’s decided they don’t care too many times)… most of the shit they’re saying HURTS the people they’re “trying” to defend. “Jews aren’t indigenous cuz they were in wherever” so indigeneity stops when you get murdered and kicked out of your land? Is that what you’re saying? When’s the cut off, two massacres or three massacres? They sound like “oh well the Cherokee have been here for millennia but MY family has been here for four whole generations, after my great-grandpa killed a bunch of them”. They claim they’re “anticolonial anti-imperialists” and then help what is arguably the most successful colonial empire (I mean hello, the audacity and confidence you have to have to call yourself indigenous to a place named for the people you’re killing when the place you ARE from is still named after you??? Arabia anyone??). And they’re not only hurting Jewish rights, but the rights of all the other indigenous peoples of MENA- Amazigh, Druze, Samaritans, etc. They just use whatever words they want. “Genocide” isn’t a fun trivia word, it’s a fucking LEGAL WORD. ALSO they like to say “every accusation is a confession” and it’s just… that’s projecting bro. There’s so many examples, but I think the best is: “Jewish independence is a racist genocidal movement” and they say that cuz their’s IS. They do know that they’re supporting a genocide that the “Palestinian cause” has been trying to do for decades, they will just only admit it when they’re trying to frame Jews for it.

ALSO ALSO… the fucking racism of low expectations. “What did you expect them to do?” about Oct 7. Idk, maybe NOT mass rape people??? I’ve literally heard people say that it’s “their tradition”…. WHAT? How is it not racist as fuck to sum up someone’s “culture” as murder-rape-violence? If I keep going I won’t stop but… listen to the podcast Jew Wanna Talk’s episode Queers for Palestine: Beyond Chickens for KFC. They explain it better than I can.

I got way off-topic and this got kind of convoluted but… yeah. People need to take responsibility for themselves even if it’s uncomfortable. Suck it up. Also, learn the literal basics of antisemitism before you call the 1 Jewish country “pedophilia heaven-murder town where they eat all the Good Babies”, cuz you sound like a Nazi. Or Roman. Or Soviet. Or Medieval. Or [insert other antisemite here].

and shout out to josh_a on Instagram, he’s a legend. And Dara Horn.

Sending love from Canada ❤️ Am Yisrael Chai 💛💛

every single bit of this!!! go off!!

👏👏👏

be proud of yourself!!! it’s hard to break out of these patterns and cycles and you did it!!

i did anthro/archaeology and jewish studies ahhh i’m excited you want to do anthro and study in israel!! 💙💙

[delilahsturniolo]

no body, no crime

— m.s

chapter 1 . . . denial

in which. . . you and matt are private investigators, trying to figure out an unsolved murder from years ago.

warnings. . . mentions of murder, death, suicide.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first and please credit me if you are taking inspiration from my writing. happy reading! :)

(this is based off of the book series a good girls guide to murder! this is not a direct retell of it but this does include some similar plot points!)

“i think he did it but I just can't prove it.”

“no, no body, no crime.”

“but I ain't letting up until the day I die.”

the cursor on your computer moved quickly as you scrolled through different articles. you were sat in your office, your eyes glued to your laptop screen. you read the headline of the article you opened, it was published in 2015.

EMILY JONES, 17 year old girl brutally murdered by her boyfriend on June 17th, 2015.

you scoffed in disbelief as you read this.

everyone knows the story. emily was at a party with her boyfriend justin, they got into an argument and he shot her, a few moments later killing himself.

blah blah blah, you were tired of hearing that. you don’t think that’s what happened, you refused to believe it.

and why exactly? you didn’t know. but what you did know, is that you had every desire to find out what truly happened.

everyone in the detective agency thinks you’ve gone insane. there was no way you were so intrigued by a murder that happened years ago, you wouldn’t stop digging into it.

it was just all so weird, nothing added up. the police refused to investigate further, closing the case without explanation. it was suspicious, really suspicious…

and you were going to figure out the truth. what really happened to emily and justin that night?

you bit your lip, abruptly shutting your laptop and getting up. you walked out of your office and through the headquarters, entering the office of the only person you knew could help you.

detective matthew sturniolo. one of the best investigators in the company. well, to you not really. you thought he was just like any other detective. either that, or you refused to believe he was better than you. you sighed, knocking on his door.

“don’t come in!” he grumbled from the other end. you only rolled your eyes, entering his office. he turned his head to look at you from his desk.

“didn’t i just say don’t come in?” he narrowed his eyes at you. you just chuckled sarcastically. “oops.” you shrugged, taking a seat on the chair opposite of him.

“okay so what ever happened to asking—“ matt began to speak up, you cut him off though.

“i don’t need your sarcasm right now, i need help.” you interrupted, your voice laced with a pleading tone, which matt was a little taken aback by.

“you’re asking me for help? that’s a first.” matt crossed his arms, but leaning a little closer to hear your request.

you weren’t amused by his response. you took the file you were holding and placed it down in front of him. matt’s eyes furrowed in confusion, he looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“what’s this?” he questions.

“open it and you’ll see.” you replied, gesturing to the file. matt huffed, opening the file. his eyes widened slightly as he looked at what was inside.

“y/n, really? the emily jones case? you still won’t let this shit go?” matt scolded you, his eyes analyzing the old police reports and statements inside the file. he closed the file and pushed it back toward you.

“if you’re asking me to feed into your crazy delusions and help you solve a case that’s already been solved years ago, then no.” matt mocked you, making air quotation marks with his hands. however, you only shook your head.

“you don’t get it, i don’t think justin killed emily, it had to have been—“

“y/n, stop! everyone knows the story. justin killed emily, and he killed himself after. his DNA was on the gun. just let it go.” matt’s voice softened at his last few words.

you grabbed the file, opening it and taking out a few of the papers. you looked up at matt.

“don’t you find it weird? how the police did absolutely nothing? they didn’t even try to investigate further, they jumped to conclusions and were so quick to close the case. emily and justin were in a happy, healthy relationship. why would he just shoot her? you don’t find that a little odd? all of the suspects have different stories, something else happened that night. and, someone out there knows.” you explained to matt, his eyes locking with yours.

“matt, i don’t care if this happened years ago. people deserve to know the truth. it’s our job, we need to re open this case.” you pleaded.

matt took a long, deep breath. “alright.” he spoke casually, your eyed widened in surprise.

“wait, what?”

“alright. i’ll help you, but on one condition.” matt leaned in closer.

“just know that this doesn’t mean i don’t absolutely despise you anymore, you better not be wasting my fucking time with this shit, okay?” matt crossed his arms, you eagerly nodded.

“i promise, pinky promise.” you held out your pinky for matt to take, he chuckled lightly and connected his pinky with yours before letting go.

“alright then, let’s do this.”

“you’re on, sturniolo.”

© delilahsturniolo

join the taglist here! 🤍

a/n 💌: WOOHOOO first series! what do you all think?

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 10] Late Nights

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru’s behavioral change is something that you never really expected. It seems that he’s warming up once again, even though you’re not giving him the attention he desires. He wants you to be the sweet and loving woman that you were when you were in a relationship, but you aren’t that woman. But it’s fine with him, he’s still warming up and treating you like an actual human being.

The bar is low, but you don’t really expect much from spoiled little Satoru. 

For some reason, you’re not liking this change though. You prefer him as the cold and mean boss that would snap and berate you due to a minor mistake. Maybe it’s because he’s molding and reminding you of the man that you used to love and you don’t want to see traces of the past relationship. Ren is the only reminder you need, and the best reminder because he reminds you how Satoru left you without an explanation.

You hate how he suddenly drops the mean act and is sweet; professional but still sweet. He tries to make an effort by asking how you’re doing, asking you to take breaks during work hours so you don’t tire yourself out so quickly (knowing that sometimes you have to run some errands for his mom), and whenever he orders food he asks if you want anything. You wonder what his mom said to him especially when you remember how he broke down and hugged you out of nowhere. She definitely said something to him.

“Have you started sending out the invitations?” Satoru asks, and you hum in response. Even though he knows you’re busy, sometimes you can’t get out of the task of working late nights. There’s so much to do in one day sometimes, and it’s especially busy with an upcoming charity event. It’s an event that his father would host each year but it consequently stopped when his mother got a hold of the company. Since Satoru is officially the president of the company, he’s honoring his father by bringing back the event– Additionally, it brings great publicity to the company, but that’s just an added bonus.

“Around one hundred people have said yes, a handful declined, and we still have a lot of people that haven’t opened it or are just thinking about it.” You inform him. 

“Have the Zenins said anything? Any of them?” He’s curious to know their response, and you try to recall. You remember the Zenin name coming up a lot while growing up, you never really got to understand the relationship between that family and the Gojos. They’re in constant competition yet they still invite each other to big events.

“Yeah… They declined.” You answer when you remember. He feels relieved to know that. They’re the last group of people he wants to see… A bunch of complicated snobby pieces of shit. He quite literally doesn’t understand why his father insisted on inviting them to every major event. He remembers Naoya, mainly because they went to school together, and that boy was unbearable. Satoru was lucky that he was a year younger. “I remember one of the Zenins–”

You can’t quite remember his name, and you try to remember the name. It’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite get it. Until Satoru speaks up, “Naoya.”

“Yeah! He asked me out when I was like sixteen. Really awkward… He told me that I’d never amount to nothing and it’d be weird to see him and show him that he was right.” You share, and Satoru finds himself surprised at the information that you share. How has he never heard of that? 

“Good thing that you rejected him. Suguru and I would’ve never allowed that relationship to happen anyway.” He responds, and you raise your brows. It’s weird why he’s bringing it up, but you’re more curious as to why Suguru of all people wouldn’t allow that to happen. You understand why Satoru would’ve been upset– But not Suguru. You chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously, wondering if you should ask the question that comes up in your mind.  In the end you ask,

“Why wouldn't Suguru have allowed that relationship to happen?” And Satoru isn’t sure how to respond. He isn’t sure whether to dismiss the question and get back to work, or to answer honestly. Satoru’s eyes shift back to his computer before he says anything.

“He used to have a crush on you back then.” He clears his throat, grabbing his water and taking a sip of it. You find yourself a bit taken back, a stupid smirk on your lips and it pisses him off. You shift in your seat, adjusting yourself so your back is straight.

“Suguru had a crush on me?” You sound so fucking proud of it, and it takes everything in Satoru to remain his composure. You repeat the question, sounding even more proud than the last time. 

“Yeah, he did.” Satoru says through gritted teeth. You’re way too ecstatic to even care about how he talks. His hands form into fists and he tries to hide them from you. “Why does it matter anyway? We ended up dating.”

“I’m just wondering… We all wonder how life would’ve turned out differently if we had made different decisions.” You answer, and he scoffs. When his hands are visible again, your eyes fall on your wedding band. “It doesn’t matter anyway, we’re here to work.”

“You’re right.” He nods his head in response. He focuses on what you have to do before you go back home. He’s sure you’re in a rush to go back home to your stupid cat.

“Plus, you’re married to someone else. It doesn’t matter if I had chosen to date him.” 

He bites down on his lip. He guesses you’re right. He’s not allowed to get upset. After all, he did leave you without an explanation. Maybe he should’ve let Suguru get with you. 

“Mommy!” Ren yells, the biggest smile on his face when he sees you. You always welcome him with open arms, picking him up from the floor and filling his little face with kisses. Even though you’re exhausted by the time you get home, you always manage to find energy to spend some quality time with him.

As you pay attention to him, brushing his hair out of his face with your fingers, the nanny collects her stuff and says her goodbyes before leaving. It’s your daily routine. While you greet him, she leaves without missing a beat. “Are you hungry, Ren?”

“No.” He answers, and while he says that, your stomach growls. Satoru offered to buy food but you rejected the offer since you wanted to leave as soon as you could. Ren, being the honest little boy that he is, points it out, “Sounds like you’re hungry, mommy.”

“I am. I’m gonna order something.” You say, definitely too tired to cook something up. You smile at him, tilting your head to the side, “Do you have any ideas?”

“Pizza.” He doesn’t waste a second, and you chuckle. You figured. You kiss the top of his head and you put him down on the floor before reaching into your purse to grab your phone. You find a couple of messages on your phone from different people. Mrs. Gojo telling you that you need to talk, a similar message from Shoko, and then Suguru checking up on you.

First thing’s first, you order your food delivery before you send a message to Suguru. You then call Mrs. Gojo, and within the first ring, she picks up the phone. She doesn’t bother greeting you before saying, “What’s up with Satoru?”

“I have no idea. I’m his secretary, not his babysitter nor his mother.” You respond, too tired to care about the way you speak to her. “You should know.”

“I swear to God, if you said anything to him–” She stops mid sentence and takes a deep breath. “Do you have an idea of what’s going on?”

“I have no idea. What did Satoru do?” You ask her. You hear her sigh.

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She says before hanging up the phone. You turn your full attention to Ren, deciding that anything else can wait until he’s asleep. You walk over to him and crouch down to his level.

“You wanna watch a movie, Ren?” You ask him and he nods in response. He follows you as you walk over to the couch to look for the remote control.

“Can we eat ice cream, mommy?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, and it’s hard for you to say no.

“After dinner, Ren.” You tell him, taking a seat on the couch. He takes a seat next to you, laying his head on your lap.

You will always hold some sort of resentment towards Satoru, but you will always be thankful for the little boy that rests his head on your lap. Ren is your whole world.

When Ren is sound asleep, you find yourself on the couch, finger hovering over Suguru’s contact. And just as you’re about to call him, someone calls you first. The man that you were just thinking of. You don’t waste a second picking up the phone and putting it to your ear.

“Hey, Suguru.” There’s a dumb smile on your face. It becomes bigger when he says your name. You don’t waste any time considering your eyes are shutting on their own. You’ve texted the entire night, talking about trivial things. You just have to come out and say it, “Satoru told me that you liked me back in the day.”

“Is that so?” Suguru responds, and you hum. You bite down on your lip, waiting for him to say something else. Any other time you would be embarrassed to just say that, but your brain is barely functioning, and your confidence is extremely high. “What do you think?”

“That if you had said something before Satoru then…” You swallow thickly. Would you have chosen Suguru over Satoru? After realizing just how immature Satoru is, right now you say you would’ve chosen Suguru. Back then though… It doesn’t matter now anyway. “Maybe Ren would’ve been your kid.”

“Is that so?” You hear how he’s holding back on laughing. Finally you hear a chuckle. “Is that your way of shooting your shot?”

“Maybe…” You respond, and you’re lucky you’re half asleep when you’re saying all of this. The silence would be your biggest embarrassment at any other moment. You smile as you hear,

“Do you wanna go on a date?”

[the-guppy-fish]

HC - Simon "Ghost" Riley

Types of relationships - Friends

...I have some thoughts...about our boy Simon...there are not many...but more will come...

(definitely have to make a part two🤭)

No warnings, yet. (Slightly proofread)

Simons eyes are always on you. No matter where in the room you are, his eyes always find their way to you. Both consciously and unconsciously. He just likes knowing where you are.

He has made it a habit to rest his hand on your shoulder whenever he stands behind you. (He just likes touching you..and not in a weird way)

Purposefully steals you hairties and hides them in his pockets. Whenever you leave something (jackets, shoes, ...your phone) within his reach, he loves to just hide it from you. Nothing vile. He just loves to see the confusion on your face when you mutter:"Where the f..Simon! Give back my xx"

Somehow, he knows when you get hungry. If you're ever out together, whether that be on an OP or just out with friends, it doesn't matter. Right before your mood turns snappy and you can't concentrate, he hands you some sort of snack.

He has the lamest, most dry fucking jokes ever. But you find them hilarious. Each and every single one of them. Because he has become a master at delivering those jokes.

- while walking in a desert somewhere on an op.

- Simon picks something up off the ground.

"Here, take this."

- he hands you something small. Dropping it into your gloved hand.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

- while walking away he answers lowly.

"It's for rock music."

- you look down at a thumbnail-sized, triangular and flat rock.

🙄

"Eat." Was all he would tell you.

Tries to shepherd you if you're in crowded places. But you got a will of your own and a gene for getting distracted, so it's quite the struggle for him sometimes. He'd place a gentle hand between your shoulderblades, guiding you to wherever you need to go.

"Stay close, love."

He texts you out of the blue. And it's usually something weird. Something he's spent a good amount of time pondering over....or no time at all. Sometimes, it's something silly, and others he's thought about something deep and very emotional.

'Do you think I should get a pet for when i retire?'

'How about a dog?'

'No'

'Maybe a turtle'

'I want a turtle'

'Would you help me pick one?'

'Do you ever think about what would happen if I didn't come home from an op?'

'Shit. Sorry'

'I did it again :'( '

'Sorry love'

'You busy?'

'Oi'

'Answer me'

'Please'

'I just need your opinion on something'

Si👻 sent a picture

'Don't laugh. Just tell me if you like the sweater or not'

Simon is definitely someone who texts sporadically.

And speaking of texting. He loves to send you random pictures of animals he finds. No explanation. He just wants you to see the cute cat/dog/squirrel he encountered on a walk around town.

Simon is the kind of friend who you just click with. You don't have to talk much. You just get one another. But still. You yap his ears off every time you spend time together. And he just listens. Oh, Simon loves to hear you yap. He knows it brings some quietness to your, sometimes, racing brain. And he knows. The day he needs to talk, you'll be all ears.

Whenever he leaves for an op (without you), you use your chat, more or less, like a diary. You know he has no access to any kind of network what so ever, while he's away. So, all the messages you send... will only be read once he comes back to base. And even though it's not much, and usually only silly and funny things you send him, he loves every bit of it.

(Even when you use your chat to keep grocery lists in)

When things get rough. Because they will. Life sucks sometimes. You're there for one another. You have an ongoing list of times where you helped each other out because no one else could. (And you wanted no one else to help you)

The time you had the nastiest cold. Like snot everywhere. Coughing your lungs up. Fever. Headaches. Everything. He took some days off from work to help you feel better. He stocked your fridge with vegetable soup and made you like a hundred cuppas until you finally felt like yourself again. All while laughing at you whenever you sneezed without a tissue because you just couldn't keep the snot in.

The time Simons apartment flooded because his upstairs neighbour had busted a pipe, and water began running down Simons walls. In no time, you had helped him collect the few possessions he had at home and brought them to your place. For a few weeks, he occupied your couch while his apartment got fixed.

One time, your bank card had been stolen, and all your accounts were frozen until the card had been deactivated. With no real money to your name at that moment, Simon had lent you at least a month's worth of rent, utilities, and groceries until your bank had settled everything.

Simon once went out to drink with the task force. He had somehow convinced them that he was sober enough to walk home by himself. (He was not.) On the way home, he had managed to trip over his large feet and stumble down the pavement and almost face plant on the empty road. In his drunken state, he had managed to call you and ask for help. Even though it was late, you had gone out for him. Helped him home and into his bathroom. You had helped him clean the scrapes and cuts on his hands, knees, and chin. Brushed his teeth and made him drink some water before you sent him to bed. The next morning, you woke on his couch, the sound of Simons hangover reaching you from the bathroom. He sounded like he was dying. But at least he was up.

When you were working together, your friendship looked a little different. Your work relationship made it hard for him to express his care for you in the way we'd like. So he found other ways. Both of you had to dial down the banter and long yap sessions. So Ghost found discrete ways to be there for you. He made sure your canteen was always filled with water. When he was assigning guard shifts, he would usually put you two on the same shift to ensure you had at least some hours in each others company. Sometimes, he even saved the tiny piece of chocolate from the field rations you ate so he could give it to you whenever you had a shitty day.

When you're on leave, he loves to ask you to go hiking with him. Simon loves to spend time in nature, and he loves to spend time with you. So why not combine it? You spent hours together, both talking about almost everything between heaven and earth, but also in silence, just enjoying the comfort of being around one another.

Also, Simon loves to tease you. Not to be cruel or try to embarrass you. No. He just loves to see you squirm a little. (But he also loves it when you set your foot down. That fire behind your eyes when you tell him to "fucking quit it." He feels proud to see you stand up for yourself. Even if he was the cause of your irritation.)

[kriswolfheart]

These are Deltarune Spoilers. I dunno where else to put them lol

The Roaring Knight is Dess, or at least some warped version of her, be it through UT-esque Soul Experiments (which almost certainly happened at the shelter), the same phenomenon that let Gerson show up in Ch4, or a combination.

The Roaring Knight is not the one making the fountains in the light world, that's Carol and Asgore, who are trying to somehow revive Dess. Asgore is the less-willing participant guilted and manipulated into it by Carol.

There is no 'Player', at least not in the sense that there was in Undertale. The stuff with Kris seperating from their soul is more allegorical for their obvious identity/lack of control/dysmorphia/dysphoria etc etc issues. This is supported by the bird cage clearly being a thing long before the game started and the fact Kris vanishing into the bathroom to [METAPHOR FOR SELF-HARM] is apparently a common occurence. Also stuff like Kris ripping out the SOUL at the end of Ch 4 but just laying there desperately trying not to hear their mom getting boned. There might be an UT-esque EXPLANATION for the whole seperating idea, but I'm pretty confident it will, in the end, be an allegory rather than the more metatextual stuff in UT.

Since Ralsei is most likely Kris' old toy monster horns, and thereby a reflection of Kris (replay Chapters 1 and 2 and imagine a lot of Ralsei talking about their state of mind as coming from Kris! It works!) the fact that Ralsei knows everything is a reflection of Kris also knowing what's going on (since they're clearly cooperative with Carol to an extent.)

You can TECHNICALLY beat the Roaring Knight in Ch3 without the Shadow Mantle, making me think there will eventually be some sort of divergence you can get by doing so. I kind of expect people to discover a new entire route once the game is actually finished.

I read the Weird Route as less 'The player makes Kris do BAD THINGS' and more 'Kris is acting against their actual nature to try and be the person the adults in their life want them to be.' Gotta trap your childhood friend in a loveless marriage and get divorced in 20 years just like mom and dad! Kris throwing the soul into the trash and beating the shit out of it after the Weird Route scene in Ch 4 reads like after-the-fact self loathing to me.

I think when we actually get into the shelter we're gonna get some fucked up implications slash allegories in the main route, not just the weird route. Rent-lowering gunshots will be fired.

Toriel is shockingly cute as a drunken mess.

[midnightsimpsstuff]

WILDLOWER

WILDFLOWER by Billie Eilish

Spencer Reid x reader

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort (promise), JJ's confession to Spencer, toxic friendship, mention of break ups, happy ending.

Summary: After JJ confesses to Spencer that she is in fact in love with him, he is stuck in a tight spot and doesn’t want the reader to find out because you never knew he liked JJ so he broke up with you with no explanation. Because you are friends with JJ you happened to go to her to cry about the breakup not knowing she’s at fault.

A/n: I found out what Wildflower by Billie Eilish was truly about and I fell in love with the idea so I wrote something with the plot, so enjoy! LOL. There might be a part two so look out for that.

Word Count: 2.3k

Comments, shares and rebloggs are appreciated! :))

Had to add the inspiration ;)

You were walking back home, and your heart was more than broken, you didn’t think anything could be worse than this. Everything was fine before Spencer had gone on that stupid case! You knew he was kidnapped during it, you knew he wouldn’t want to tell you what happened but to break up? That was too far.

You took some time of work, you couldn’t go on, not in this state, your friend JJ, who had even introduced you to Spencer was the only friend of yours that didn’t have work at that moment, she was given a leave for reasons she hadn’t told you.

That was what brought you to her couch watching rom-coms, taking tubs of ice creams at once you just finished crying your eyes out on her shoulder, when you told her about how Spencer just dumped you for absolutely no reason, you felt as she tensed up. You were no profiler but you knew that she knew why but you won’t push her to tell you, in case it was a touchy subject and she kicks you out of her house.

Meanwhile, JJ knew she had never felt more guilty in her life, not when she returned home and she had to hug her kids and sleep side by side with Will, not telling him about the case a she usually would, not when she imagined Spencer was at her side not Will, or her kids looked like Spencer or how much they loved Spencer, and she wished she had known Spencer loved her back then she knew everything would be different.

She didn’t think Spencer would break up with you, it was a life or death situation there was nothing she could do but tell him, she felt instantly better when the burden was off her shoulders, she didn’t one bit think about how it could affect him, how it could affect you.

She comforted you though, trying to take her mind away from how you would act when you find out what she said, what she did, how it was her fault, all her fault, how you didn’t deserve this. You were a perfect fit for Spencer. You let him talk without interruptions, you didn’t use him to make your work easier, you didn’t give him sneaky insults or once tell him to shut up, but she did and she didn’t deserve the kindness both of you showed her endlessly.

You had gone home around the time Will had come back from work, JJ’s face was stuck on a look of despair, she made you feel better sure but when you told her ‘Thank you so much, Jenny. You know exactly how to make me feel better, you’re an awesome person and friend. Good Night!’ she froze at the door as she closed it watching you drive away with your car.

It wasn’t fair on you, she felt like shit, Will had noticed her weird mood and tried to confront her about it but she lashed out at him and went straight to her room. Discarding the takeout that Will had gotten from her and their kids’ favourite store she couldn’t help but subconsciously think about Spencer bringing you home takeout from your favourite food store if not for her and her big mouth.

She should have never loved him in the first place, especially since she got you both together.

Spencer and JJ had returned back to work the two weeks after, everyone in the BAU saw the change in dynamic between both of them, and they noticed Spencer’s mood had ultimately dampened and his migraines weren’t the only reason.

Spencer had suffered the two weeks without you, it was just taking a break from each other, and he secretly hoped you would find out what JJ had said so you would understand that it wasn’t his fault.

Your heart would be crushed and his and your friendship would be crushed, because you would have asked him if he loves JJ back and he honestly doesn’t know. He loves her as a friend for sure but as more? He’s not sure.

He already knew he was going to go over to your place that evening and explain everything to you, he had a feeling you didn’t know if not you would have barged into here a long time ago. He knows you, you don’t know how to keep your anger in check you would have come to confront her right there right then.

He let out a soft sigh. It was lunch break now, he had already ordered the flowers you adored so much to your house. When you get back from work you would see them and when you change and get comfortable you would see him. Hopefully, you would take him back even though he knew that was unlikely he really hurt you.

As he was about to get to his seat, JJ stopped him and he couldn’t help the eye roll he did, he wasn’t on the best terms with her at the moment he was going to make up with her when he has completely made up with you.

“Spencer, I am so sorry about your breakup, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” JJ had started with not noticing how loud she had said it now everyone was listening to them but they didn’t make it obvious.

His eyebrows furrowed, not only because of her pitch but also how did she know? “How do you know, I never told anyone that-“ then it clicked. He never knew she had it in her to be this much of a bitch. But he didn’t want to jump into conclusions.

“She told you didn’t she? But did YOU tell her?” He didn’t care if anyone heard at this point he was pissed. Really? Confess your love to your friend’s boyfriend and comfort her about him.

“I am sorry about everything about everything but you know I couldn’t do that to her.” JJ looked down to the floor in shame, her eyes were watering but she knew she didn’t have the right to be crying at that moment. He couldn’t believe he thought he loved her.

He walked away from her, he looked angrier that before but that subsided when he realised he could go home. He had never done anything as fast in his life, he packed his bag, practically ran out then began driving straight to your house.

You had just arrived at home seeing a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers at your front your door you knew who it was from. You unconsciously smiled before your face dropped remembering the break up, you sighed before carrying it inside your house. Dropping it on your coffee table, you realised it had a note but you weren’t in the right frame of mind to read it yet.

You went to quickly shower, change into something by far more comfortable. Before plopping on your couch, deciding to read the note.

            Dear Y/N it was inconsiderate of me to break up with you without explaining first, I am coming over after work to explain everything to you. If you don’t want me to come over just text me. Love you, Spencer.

It wasn’t his handwriting, he must have sent it over, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Funny of him to think you still had his number.

As you began watching something on your TV, you heard your doorbell ring, you went to open it.

“Start talking bitch.”

You sat on the chair opposite Spencer, he had just finished explaining everything to you and your mouth was currently agape. You began backtracking you finally understood. That’s why her body kept going rigid.

She loved Spencer. She had a husband yet she loved Spencer. She had kids yet she loved Spencer. Spencer had a girlfriend yet she loved Spencer. Spencer’s girlfriend was someone she considered a best friend yet she loved Spencer. She was extremely beautiful, knew Spencer way longer than you and Spencer once liked her like seven years ago and now she was in love with him. Spencer is the godfather of her child and she loves him?!

You were no more shocked, the reality of the situation was dawning on you, softly laughing to yourself about everything. “You don’t love her back, right?” you didn’t know what you would do if he said he does but the moment the question came out of your mouth. Spencer shouted no so loud you flinched.

His face was now pink from embarrassment, “No, I don’t, not anymore, not again it’s just you I love and want to love.” He said meeting your eyes with a smile.

His eyes began doing that drawing in puppy dog eye thing it usually did when he wanted to get something he wanted, you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it sure felt like he did because how could you not take him back when he is doing his face that way.

You walked over to him, your face was neutral, and he didn’t know what you were going to do. When you stood beside him you held his face, caressing his skin as he looked up at you his eyes still doing the thing. You slapped him really hard, “That’s for hurting my heart for the past two weeks.” Then you crouched down to him giving him a passionate kiss. “That’s because you went out of your way to explain and apologize and because I love you.

His face still hurt but he was sincerely happier now he had you back. You went away to get your phone to send a quick message to JJ.

‘We need to talk, come over tomorrow.” you sent her. You gave your phone to Spencer so he could see the message. His face visibly tensed, “Are you ending your friendship with her?” he asked. He’d feel pretty bad, you two have always been so close.

“No, we just need to talk some things through. Don’t worry my love” you said as you took a seat in his lap and as he drew circles on your thigh.

“Should I end my friendship with her?” Spencer asked shyly, he felt like you would say no but he did really value JJ as a friend so it might hurt a bit.

“Do you want to?” you asked him, you were just playing with him finding it funny as his face began changing from thoughtful to fear. He felt like it was a trick.

He feebly nodded, you smiled “Then no, Spencer. That won’t be fair on you. You two have been friends longer than I knew you” you told him while looking at him with love.

Everything was better and looking up for you.

But with JJ she felt her heart leap out of her chest as she read your message, she just read it again and again and again. The face of Spencer’s fury and your sad face was in her head she didn’t know what to do she didn’t want to lose any of you but she knew what was coming.

She just came between a good relationship because of her stupid feelings. She would have cried even more if she wasn’t tired of crying.

After getting the message from you she got enough courage to tell Will about everything. He reacted better than she thought he would have, although he was mad. When she had assured him she doesn’t love him anymore and only loved Will. He wasn’t so mad anymore but he asked for a bit of space because the way she had been neglecting him throughout the weeks she was at home and he said it’s best she knows what it felt like a bit.

JJ without fail had come to your home the next day, immediately after work. Texting Will about where she would be. She didn’t get a response though he left her on read, but she understood she had hurt many people and it was beginning to come on her.

You opened the door smiling at her. JJ wanted to cry, why were you smiling, did you not know, did you know and weren’t angry, she doesn’t know whether you and Spencer got back together. But she knew she couldn’t take it any longer.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you…” she stated while motioning her head inside as if asking if she could come in. You moved away so she could seat in on your couch.

You already knew and you felt touched she wanted to come clean. You looked at her expectantly waiting for her to speak.

“I confessed my love to Spencer on our last case, I think that’s why you two broke up.” She was fiddling with her ring.

“I already apologized to him, and to Will and I felt it’s time to apologize to you, I don’t want to lose any of you. I am so sorry I got you two together, I am sorry I pulled you both apart, I am sorry you trusted me enough to cry to me about what happened. I don’t deserve you.”

When she finally looked up at you, she realised you didn’t look angry. “Spencer told me.” You said. She felt something in her stomach drop. “You knew the whole time?” she asked, now she felt this was a plan for you to become the next unsub.

But instead your eyes widened, “No, he told me yesterday. Relax.” You said rubbing her back.

“I forgive you don’t worry. I want my friend back. You two hugged and she held unto you tighter than she had ever done before. Spencer watched you two from the kitchen.

This is how it’s meant to be.

[isavulpix]

Christmas at The Harper's

Roy Harper x Fem!Reader, Lian Harper

I havent write a fanfic in so long that I'm super nervous about this. It was supposed to be a Jason Toddx reader, but then Roy happened. I hope yall enjoy it and Happy Christmas!

Warning: I haven't read a dc comic, so Roy may be OOC. All my knowledge on him comes from other fanfics and google. My first language isn't english so there will be errors.

isavulpix masterlist

It was a weird and peaceful day in Gotham. The snow had fallen the night before, so you could hear the laughs and joyful screams of the older kids playing outside. It was a week before Christmas and Lian was in her Bluey PJs on the couch eating the remains of the gingerbread house she had made the day before with her father. The local Gotham channel was doing a Christmas movie marathon, right now The Grinch was. Her father had left early in the morning, so it was just you two in the apartment.

Lian groaned when a commercial break popped, but before she could change for Netflix, the commercial got her attention. It was about a family giving each other gifts and it confused her. Wasn’t that Santa’s job? She stood from the couch and quickly put on her bunny sleepers to run toward her father's room knowing you were there organizing the drawer you shared with Roy. You always got annoyed with her dad for not folding the clothes.

“Why did those people give gifts to each other? Does Santa not visit them?” Lian looks up at you, her eyes wondering about the commercial. You stopped what you were doing and panicked internally, how did you explain to Lian without accidentally ruining it? Damn, Roy for not being here because of late toy shopping. You turned to Lian and cursed when you saw the look on her face, for a 5-year-old she was very persistent.

“Well…um…Santa does visit them; it is just that they love each other so much that they decide to also give a gift to each other. Like we do in birthdays…” You hoped that the last-minute explanation was enough for her curiosity because you certainly didn’t have anything else. Lian looks at you and blinks three times before nodding, you let out a breath and relax.

“Did you get something for Daddy?” Lian balanced her weight from side to side.

“Well yeah?” You hope she doesn’t catch the uncertainty in your tone, was your explanation a good one? You hope Roy doesn’t get mad, but you're shaken from your thoughts when you see Lian eyes getting watery. Shit, you totally fuck up.

“Wait wait” You squat to her level; you were certain that you ruined something because of your explanation. “Why are you crying, sweetie?” You run the conversation in your head to see if you accidentally said something stupid or insinuated that Santa wasn’t real, really wishing it wasn’t the last one. You didn’t want to be responsible for dying the magic of Santa for her.

“I haven’t bought a gift for Daddy” You can barely understand what she says because of her crying and you mentally high-five yourself, Santa is still alive. Now you need to fix the new problem.

“Oh, that’s fine sweetie. We can give Daddy what I got him.” Your fingers clean her running tears, you pout a little as she keeps crying.

“No, you said they gifted each other because they love each other so I need to give Daddy something” Lian lips wobble as she rubs her eyes.

“You don’t have to per se....and I promise Daddy won't be mad about it, but if you still want to gift Daddy something what about those cards you make? He is always so happy when you give him one” Your reassurance helps, and Lian stops crying and plays with her fingers. You could eat her chubby cheeks with how adorable she is.

“Daddy really likes them?” Your heart almost bursts at how cute she looks.

“Your daddy loves them, especially when is a drawing of you two.” You smile at her and Lian smiles back. Damn, you're good at this. “We can even buy some of your Daddy's favorite chocolate to accompany your card.” Lian nods and runs to her room determined to make the best Christmas card ever made, and you punch the air. A crisis is avoided like a pro, you deserve some hot chocolate.

As the days passed the air got colder and the streets that didn’t have that much snow were now completely covered with the white fluffiness. You had spent the week of Christmas in Roy and Lian apartment. Both of them insist every night for you to stay the night. You turned in your sleep, your unconscious body seeking the nearest heat supply. It was Roy's body that was much hotter than yours, he was on the other side of the bed sleeping when your cold feet and hands woke him up.

He mumbles incoherent words as he tries to move away from the cold, his movement wakes you up making you pout. How dare he move away from you? So, when his back faces you, you interlock your legs with him and move a hand to his torso making him grumble.

“How are you so damn cold? The heater is on” He turns to face you knowing you weren’t going to let him be.

“The heater isn't enough; I need your body heat” Roy chuckles and kisses your forehead. He could feel you move your cold limbs in his clothes, but he doesn’t dare move. Roy moves you to be even closer to him and rubs your back. He closes his eyes and thinks about how grateful he is for having you in his life, he didn’t know what would have been of Lian and him if you weren’t in the picture. He always thought and said you were too good for him. He prayed that he could make you even happier than what you made him be and give you everything you deserved.

“You know, it's weird that Lian hasn’t come in to wake us up to go open gifts” You mumble against Roy's chest, loving how affectioned he was being this morning. Sadly, your words make Roy remember the last Christmas fiasco. Lian had silently opened most of her gifts and he missed taking pictures of it. Roy quickly untangles from you, skips to the living room, and sighs when the gifts are untouched under the tree.

You follow him at a slower pace and look at him confused, but even weirder is the toddler sitting on the couch waiting patiently while watching Frozen. Aren't kids supposed to be hyper at Christmas? “Good morning, Lian” I hug her, and kiss her forehead, and she smiles repeating my words with more excitement for her dad and you.

“Did you peek at what Santa got you?” Roy had an eyebrow raised; he couldn’t believe his kid waited for them to wake up, not when she knew that more than half of the presents were for her.

“I didn’t, Daddy!” Lian smiles at her father, which makes him more suspicious. Before he can ask more, she runs to the tree and returns with a small gift bag. “I got you a gift, Daddy!” You get your phone and start recording the moment between father and daughter.

Roy Harper's heart almost failed at that moment. Lian excitement wasn’t all about the presents Santa got her. Half of her excitement was to finally give him the gift she had made days ago. “You did?” He takes the gift, but first pepper kisses Lian face.

“Daddy! Stop” Lian giggles and tries to escape the kisses attack. “And I did!” Lian smiles even more. “(Y/N) said that besides Santa, you can also give gifts to the people you love. She also got you something but open mine first!”

Roy smiles and pulls Lian onto his lap and pats the space beside him. You take the sign and sit down making sure to capture both of them. Inside the bag, there was Roy's favorite candy like you promised to Lian, plus the card. The card was made with white paper, one side there was a drawing of three stick people that resembled you three. The stick people were around a big three and Santa was stuck in the chimney, this made Roy and you laugh. When he looked at the other side of the card, a tear almost escaped. With big chunky writing, it said “Appy Crismas to the dest daddy!” and a lot of hearts.

Roy pulled Lian again into a tight hug. “This is the best gift I have ever gotten, pipsqueak. Thank you so much.” He kisses the side of her forehead, and Lian, satisfied with her work being done runs to open her gifts. Roy takes the moment to pull you into his arms.

“Happy Christmas, Roy” You hug him as you two watch Lian open her gifts and act surprised.

“Happy Christmas, (Y/N) …and thanks.” He mumbles the last part as he hugs you tighter, only catching it because of the closeness.