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Tropic Getaway

Hanni x Danielle x Minji x male reader

word count: 20k

The downstairs study lounge is just heavy.

It was supposed to be another night of studying, but, along the way, things went wrong. Or rather, they went wrong. Now papers and books are just everywhere, a mess of good intentions gone bad. Danielle's basically become one with the couch, kinda slumped over, doomscrolling on her phone or just staring blankly at the ceiling, looking totally over it. Opposite her, Minji is full-on face-down in her textbook on the table, like she's trying to absorb the knowledge through her forehead or just taking a very still, very desperate nap. And then there's Hanni, loaded with restless energy, pacing back and forth across the worn-out carpet, basically the only thing moving in the whole room besides Danielle’s thumb.

It doesn't take a genius to know that the keyword of the day is burnout.

"I can't," Minji mumbles, words muffled by the textbook cover. "I physically cannot read another sentence about market equilibrium. My brain has turned into actual sludge."

Danielle lets out a noise that is halfway between a laugh and a groan. "Tell me about it. I spend six hours debugging that stupid short film edit for the Media Club showcase. Six. Hours. Just to fix a two-second audio sync issue." She tosses her phone onto the cushion beside her. "My eyes feel like they're full of sand, I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust at any moment." She stretches, her joints popping audibly. "Spring break can't come fast enough. Seriously. If I don't get out of here, away from deadlines and group projects and early morning lectures, I'm going to short-circuit."

Hanni stops pacing and leans against the wall, crossing her arms. "Okay, so we're all in agreement. We're burnt the fuck out." Her gaze sweeps over her friends. "Which means we need this break. Like, medically need it. Forget staying here and 'catching up on sleep' or whatever bullshit people pretend they're going to do. We need an escape. A real one."

Minji pushes the textbook away with a sigh. "Okay, fine. Escape. Where?" She slumps back in her chair. "My parents suggest I come home. Help them clean out the garage." The look on her face makes it clear this is less appealing than facing 'market equilibrium’.

"Garage cleaning? Yeah, hard pass," Danielle says. "My mom wants me to visit my aunt in the countryside. Which, you know, love my aunt, but her idea of excitement is watching cows graze."

Hanni makes a face. "Okay, those are both nightmare fuel options. We need... sunshine. Something completely different." She pushes off the wall, starting to pace again, but this time with more purpose. "Think. No parental obligations, no academic pressure, no weird relatives. Just... decompression." She snaps her fingers. "Europe?"

Danielle considers it, tilting her head. "Europe's cool... but doesn't that feel like... a lot of effort right now? All the sightseeing, the museums, the walking... My feet already hurt just thinking about it. And figuring out trains and hostels while my brain is fried? I don't know."

"Yeah, Dani's got a point," Minji chimes in, pulling her legs up onto her chair. "I love the idea of Paris or Rome, but I think I need somewhere I can just... shut down. Like, minimal brain activity required. Maximum relaxation."

"Okay, okay, fair," Hanni concedes. "Effort is bad. Brain activity is bad." She pauses, tapping a finger against her chin. "How about a paradise place? Like, Mexico? Cancun?"

"Spring break in Cancun?" Danielle wrinkles her nose. "Isn't that just... wall-to-wall drunk frat guys trying to get you to do body shots? Feels like trading one kind of stress for another. A louder, potentially stickier kind."

Minji nods vigorously. "Definitely not the vibe. I want peace, Dani wants low-effort, I want... heat. Real heat. Not this pathetic excuse for spring weather we're having."

Hanni stops pacing again, a slow smile spreading across her face. It starts small, just a twitch at the corner of her lips, but grows as the idea takes hold. "Okay. Heat. Low effort. No frat guys, or at least, easily avoidable ones. Maximum relaxation." Her eyes light up. "What about the Caribbean?"

Silence falls for a moment as the image settles in their minds. Crystal clear turquoise water. White sand beaches. Palm trees swaying gently. Colorful drinks with little umbrellas. No textbooks. No editing suites. No Professors.

Danielle sits up straighter, the listlessness fading from her expression. "Okay... Caribbean. Like... where?"

"Doesn't even matter, does it?" Minji asks. "Barbados, St. Lucia, Turks and Caicos... They're all beaches and sun and rum punch, right?"

"Exactly!" Hanni grins, walking over and perching on the edge of the table near Minji. "Pick an island, any island. Somewhere with stupidly blue water, amazing food, maybe some snorkeling or just lying on the beach like lizards, soaking up the sun until our brains reset." She pulls out her own phone, fingers already flying across the screen. "There’s gotta be some great resorts over there."

Danielle picks her phone back up from the cushion. "Okay, I'm looking up flights. Let's see... non-stop options preferred, obviously."

Minji leans over Hanni's shoulder, peering at her screen. "Look at that resort... Jesus, that pool looks insane. Is that a swim-up bar? We could spend an entire day just migrating from the beach chair to the pool chair to the swim-up bar stool.”

"It looks... luxuriously expensive, Han," Minji says.

"Oh, yeah, sure, focus on reality! Let's see what we found on Airbnb."

And just like that the miserable study lounge totally disappears. Forget the textbooks, forget the debugging nightmares, forget the professors. Minji, Danielle, and Hanni are heads-down, phones out, completely lost in scrolling through pictures of ridiculously blue water and white sandy beaches. For these few minutes, market equilibrium and audio sync issues are ancient history. It's all about infinity pools, debating the merits of St. Lucia versus Barbados, and imagining days spent doing absolutely nothing but soaking up the sun until their brains finally feel less like scrambled eggs. School's out—mentally, at least—and the Caribbean dream is officially in.

—

You’re pacing the cramped little room—your dorm, technically, though it’s more of a closet with a bed and a desk shoved against the wall—waiting for her, trying to control a little the nervousness that always appears when you know she's coming. It’s not full-on nerves, just this antsy buzz under your skin, like you’re jonesing for a fix, and in a way, you are. Hanni’s been your hookup for months now, this casual thing that’s not really casual anymore, not with how bad you want her every time she’s near, and with her blatant possessiveness over you—not that you're complaining. The clock ticks past 4 p.m., and you’re wiping your palms on your jeans when the door swings open; no knock, no warning, just her. Hanni steps in, and fuck, she’s a knockout, same as always.

She’s got a college girl vibe dialed up, rocking this tiny plaid skirt, barely long enough to count as clothing, hugging her hips and showing off those legs—thick, smooth, the kind you wanna sink your teeth into. Her top’s a cropped hoodie, loose enough to flash a strip of her stomach when she moves. Her bangs are just adorable, a contrast to the look she's giving you.

Hanni doesn’t even say hi, just drops her bag by the door, crosses the three steps it takes to reach you, and crashes her mouth into yours. It’s hungry, sloppy, her lips soft, tasting faintly of cherry lip balm and whatever Monster she chugged on the way over. Her hands are already fisting your shirt, tugging you back toward the desk chair while she mutters against your teeth, “We gotta be quick—gotta meet the girls in, like, twenty.” You’re too busy kissing her back to argue, letting her pull you down into the seat, your hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.

She’s got you pinned there, straddling your lap before you can blink, and she’s yanking at your belt, fingers fumbling but determined. “Fuck, c’mon,” she huffs, and you help her out, unbuttoning your jeans, shoving them down just enough to free your cock, already hard, because how could it not be with her like this? She hikes her skirt up, flashing these lacy black panties she doesn’t even bother taking off—just shoves them to the side, and you catch a glimpse of how soaked she is, glistening in the dorm light.

Then she’s on you, sinking down slow at first, and you both let out this ragged, “Ohhh,” like you’ve been holding your breath for it all day. Her pussy’s tight, warm, so wet it’s obscene, and she’s clenching around you before she even starts moving. She leans in, breath hot against your ear, muttering, “Goddamn, I’ve been horny as shit all day—couldn’t stop thinking about this.” You groan, hands gripping her hips, feeling the way her skirt bunches up higher as she starts rocking against you. It’s fast, messy, her bouncing on your lap, the chair creaking under you like it’s about to give up.

Her tits are pressed against your chest, hoodie riding up, and you slide your hands under it, palming her through her bra, feeling her nipples harden under your thumbs. She’s panting, little gasps breaking up her words, “Can’t believe this is the last time ‘til—fuck—spring break. Gonna miss this dick so bad.” You thrust up into her, meeting her halfway, and she yelps, nails digging into your shoulders. “What you doing for break?” she asks, voice hitching as she grinds down hard, taking you deeper.

You’re trying to focus, but it’s a losing battle with her pussy squeezing you like that, slick and hot, dragging you to the edge already. “Dunno,” you manage, “haven’t figured it out yet—what about you?” She’s bouncing faster now, thighs flexing, skirt flapping, and she tosses her head back, laughing through a moan. “Me, Minji, Danielle—we’re fuckin’ off to St Lucia. Beaches, booze, everything we could ask for. Gonna be dope.” Her words are punctuated by the slap of her skin against yours, wet and loud in the tiny room, and you grin, thrusting harder just to hear her gasp again. “St Lucia? That’s sick,” you say, and she nods, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as she rides you. “Yeah, right? No classes, no campus—just us and some random-ass fun.” She clenches around you on purpose, smirking when you groan, and adds, “What you gonna do without me, huh? Jerk off to my texts all week?” You laugh, hands sliding to her ass, squeezing hard enough to leave marks. “Maybe. Gonna miss this—fucking you here, sneaking around. Best stress relief I’ve got.”

She’s grinning too, but it’s wobbly now, her rhythm faltering as she gets closer—you can feel it in how she’s tightening up, her breaths turning into these needy little whines. “Same,” she says, voice softer for a sec, almost sweet, before she catches herself and slams down harder, chasing it. “Fuck! I’m gonna miss this—your cock, this room, all of it.” The chair’s scraping the floor now, probably pissing off whoever’s below you, but you don’t care, she’s riding you like it’s the last time, and maybe it is for a while. Her skirt’s a crumpled mess around her waist, panties stretched to the side, and her hoodie’s slipping off one shoulder, giving you a peek at the sweat beading on her collarbone. You’re both loud—grunts, moans, the occasional “shit” or “fuck” slipping out between whatever half-assed conversation you’re trying to have. She’s soaked, dripping down your thighs, and you’re so close you can barely think straight, just thrusting up into her, letting her take what she wants.

“Fuck, Hanni,” you groan, “cum on my dick—c’mon, I wanna feel it.” She whines, head tipping back, and her bounces get sloppier, harder, the chair squeaking like it’s about to snap. Her moans kick up a notch, too loud, way too loud for this thin-walled dump, and you hiss, “Shit, keep it down, someone’s gonna hear us.” She gasps, tries to stifle it, but it’s no use. “I—I can’t, fuck, it’s too good,” she stammers, and then she’s done holding back—she slams down one more time, hard, and chokes out, “I’m gonna cum, oh fuck, I’m cumming!”

Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, pulsing hot and wet, and she’s bouncing fast now, riding out the wave, her thighs trembling against your hips. You can feel her shaking, her whole body seizing up as she cums, a shudder ripping through her that makes her gasp and whimper your name—soft at first, then loud again, like she can’t help it. You pull her down, crash your mouth into hers, kissing her deep, swallowing those sounds as she grinds through it. Her lips are slick, desperate, and you break off just long enough to mutter, “You’re so fucking hot… Jesus, Hanni,” before diving back in, biting her bottom lip hard enough to make her hiss. She’s still twitching around you, aftershocks making her shudder, and then she slides off, slow, leaving you aching and hard, your cock slick with her. She drops to her knees between your legs, no hesitation, wrapping her fingers around you; small hands, chipped red nails, and gives you a couple lazy strokes.

“Gimme your cum,” she says, and then she’s on you, mouth closing over the tip, sucking hard. Her tongue flicks the underside, wet and warm, and she’s staring up at you, dark eyes locked on yours, unblinking, fucking devastating. It’s too much, the way she hollows her cheeks, bobs her head, hand twisting at the base while her lips slide down further, taking you deep. “C’mon,” she mumbles around you, muffled, “want it so bad—give it to me.” You’re gone, head tipping back against the chair, groaning low in your throat as she works you, relentless, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. Her free hand’s on your thigh, nails digging in, and she’s begging with her eyes, her mouth, not stopping ‘til you’re right there. You feel it hit, this tight, hot rush, and you cum hard—ropes of it, thick and messy, spilling into her mouth. She doesn’t pull off, just takes it, swallowing as you go, and you mutter, “Fuck, I love watching you swallow me like this,” She pops off, licks her lips slow, deliberate, and grins. “Love the taste—salty, you, all of it,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand like it’s nothing.

You two don't waste any time, you’re tugging your jeans up, she’s smoothing her skirt down, but her panties are still crooked, and she doesn’t bother fixing them. Hanni climbs back onto your lap, not to fuck again, just to sit there, legs dangling over yours, catching her breath. It’s quiet for a sec, just the hum of the mini fridge in the corner, and then she leans her head against your shoulder, hair tickling your neck. “Thanks, y’know,” she says, soft, almost shy for once. “You’ve been a fucking lifesaver these past few months—keeping me sane after all the college bullshit.”

You wrap an arm around her, lazy, resting your hand on her hip. “Same here. You’re the only thing that’s kept me from losing my mind some days.” She laughs, quiet, nudging you with her elbow. “We're an eccentric duo, huh? But it works.” You nod, staring at the ceiling, feeling her warmth seep into you, this weird, comfortable closeness that’s snuck up on you both.

She shifts, sits up straighter, and you think she’s about to bounce out the door, she’s got that meeting with the girls soon, but she turns to you instead, skirt riding up again, flashing the edge of those wrecked panties. “So, what d’you think of the Caribbean?” She ask.

You shrug, still fuzzy from the orgasm, wiping a hand over your face. “Looks dope—beaches, food, all that. Why?” She grins and leans in close. “Come with us. Me, Danielle, Minji—we’re going, and you’d be great company. Keep things lively.” You blink, caught off guard, brain still half-fried. “Wait, what? You serious?” She nods, biting her lip, and it’s not just a throwaway invite, she’s deadass. “Yeah, dude. You’re fun as hell, and, I mean…” She trails off, smirks, lets the implication hang there. You picture it: Hanni, Danielle, Minji, you stuck in the middle of that trio, St Lucia sun beating down. It’s insane, but it’s perfect, too good to pass up. “Fuck it, I’m in,” you say, grinning back, and she lights up—full-on Hanni energy, clapping her hands once, loud. “Hell yeah! I’ll tell the girls—gonna text you details later. This is gonna be epic.” She hops off your lap, grabs her bag, but not before leaning down to kiss you quick. Then she’s out the door, skirt swishing, leaving you dazed and already counting down the days.

—

The cheap tequila is doing its job, loosening tension. The girls are crammed into a booth at the pub near the college. They ditched the library hours ago for lime wedges, salt, and rounds of golden liquor. The pub’s loud playlist thumps overhead, a backdrop to the chatter and clinking glasses. Empty shot glasses clutter the table between them, next to a rapidly disappearing basket of fries.

Minji leans back against the cracked vinyl booth seat, laughing loudly at something Danielle said, her cheeks flushed. Danielle leans forward over the table, an easy grin on her face, kicking a foot rhythmically against the booth base. Hanni leans back against the cushions, swirling the remaining tequila in her glass, watching her friends with warm, fuzzy fondness.

The relief is notorious: the trip is booked, flights confirmed, Airbnb secured. This weekend celebration feels earned, necessary. They've survived the academic trenches, and paradise awaits. Their corner of the pub hums with shared excitement as they shout slightly over the music, debating outfits, sunscreen SPFs, and foods to try when they arrived in St. Lucia.

Hanni takes another sip, the tequila warming her, making her feel bold. She needs this courage because, well, she has already invited you on the trip. Now she just has to pluck up the nerve to tell Minji and Danielle.

Mentally, she justifies it: The whole point of the trip is maximum relaxation, right? And she knows exactly who excels at top-tier stress relief. You. Just thinking about you, the heat that always sparks between you even during boring club meetings, sends a familiar warmth coiling through her, entirely separate from the tequila.

The hookups are casual, intense, and usually kept separate from her friendships, but the Caribbean feels like the perfect place to... integrate resources. Maximum relaxation needs maximum release, and honestly, no one delivers quite like you do. Your confidence, the way you look at her, how thorough you are... Yeah, a '10/10 wienering,' her brain helpfully supplies.

So, inviting you isn't selfish, she insists to herself. It's practical. A vital contribution to the mission objective: total fucking decompression. Now, to break the news…

"So," Hanni begins, setting her glass down on the sticky table with deliberate care, cutting through Minji's detailed description of the perfect beach towel. Both Danielle and Minji pause, turning their slightly glazed eyes towards her over the rims of their own glasses. "Speaking of... maximizing relaxation..." She lets the phrase hang there for a second, enjoying the tiny flicker of confusion on their faces. "I might have, uh... extended the invitation. To one more person."

Minji frowns slightly, leaning forward. "Wait, what? I think we agree... just us? Girls' trip? No distractions?"

Hanni waves a dismissive hand, trying to project breezy confidence over the pub noise. "Totally still a girls' trip! Mostly. But, like, think of this as... adding a vital resource. For stress management." She grins, letting a little of the mischief leak through. "I have invited him." She doesn't even need to say your name. The way she says 'him', the slight emphasis, the context, it hangs there in the noisy air.

Silence descends just between them. Danielle and Minji exchange a look across the table, a rapid-fire communication passing between them that Hanni can't quite decipher through her own buzz. She sees the gears turning, the slow dawning of comprehension. You. The guy from the Innovation Club. The one who sometimes joins their club when Hanni is there, the one Hanni occasionally disappears with after club meetings or social events, returning later looking flushed and rumpled but ridiculously happy. The one they maybe tease her about once or twice, getting only evasive smiles in return.

Danielle is the first to break the silence, her initial confusion melting into something else; curiosity, maybe even amusement. "Wait. Him him? From the club? The one with the..." She tilts her head, searching for a non-crude descriptor, "...charming smile?" A slow smirk spreads across her face. "Okay. Interesting. Very... resourceful, Hanni." She remembers those times Hanni texts vague excuses about 'running late' or 'working on the project' only to show up an hour later practically glowing, her hair slightly messy, biting back a smile. She recalls catching Hanni sneaking back into the dorm super early one morning after supposedly pulling an all-nighter at the Study Room, looking less exhausted and more thoroughly satisfied.

Suddenly, Hanni's 'stress management' comment clicks into sharp, vivid focus. "So that's where you disappear to," Danielle teases, leaning forward conspiratorially across the table. "Gotta admit, I always figure there is something going on there. You get this specific... smug look after you've supposedly been 'collaborating'." She laughs. "Okay, you know what? I'm not mad. He's hot, not gonna lie. And if he's gonna be focused on... de-stressing you… Maybe the ambient heat will benefit us all? Like relaxation by proxy?"

Minji is slower to come around, her expression more guarded. She takes another sip of her drink, considering. "Hold on," she says, her voice needing to rise slightly above the pub noise. "So, the plan is just us. Relaxing. Peace and quiet." She looks at Hanni across the table. "And now you've invited... your hookup? Doesn't that complicate things? What if it gets weird?" She remembers Hanni's occasional zoned-out bliss, the dreamy sighs after checking her phone, the sudden bursts of inexplicable euphoria. It makes sense now, annoyingly so. You are clearly effective. Still, the logistics... "It is supposed to be our escape, Han."

"It still is!" Hanni insists. "Think about it! He's super chill, you know he is. He helped us debug that presentation software last semester, remember? He's not gonna be some annoying dude trying to take over. He can handle himself. And yeah, okay, fine. He's... exceptionally good at the stress relief part. Like, really good. Which means I'll be less stressed, more relaxed, and way more fun to be around." She looks between them. "Isn't that contributing to the overall vibe? Plus," she adds, playing her trump card, "he has already booked his flight. Non-refundable."

That last part is a lie, but it sounds convincing.

Minji chews on her lip. Danielle is already nodding along, seemingly sold on the 'ambient heat' theory and your general attractiveness. Minji sighs, swirling her drink on the table. She can't deny Hanni's logic entirely. A happy, thoroughly de-stressed Hanni is definitely preferable. And she has to admit, you aren't hard on the eyes, and you've always been perfectly nice, even helpful, during those club interactions. Not the typical frat-bro type Danielle fears finding in Cancun. Maybe... maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe Danielle is right, maybe there are fringe benefits. A little extra eye candy, a different dynamic... It isn't the original plan, but the tequila is making her feel more flexible. "Fine," Minji concedes, trying to sound practical rather than intrigued, though a tiny smile plays on her lips despite herself. "Fine, he can come. But logistics. The Airbnb only has three bedrooms. So, just to be clear, he's rooming with you. No arguments."

Hanni beams, relief washing over her. "Obviously! Wouldn't have it any other way." She winks, picking up her shot glass from the table again. "See? Perfect plan. Maximum relaxation guaranteed. For everyone." She raises her glass. "To the Caribbean! And... vital resources."

Danielle laughs, clinking her glass against Hanni's across the table. "To vital resources!"

Minji sighs but clinks her glass too. "To not having to hear Hanni complain about being stressed, I guess." The noise of the pub, the tequila, the sheer giddy prospect of the trip, now with an unexpected, potentially spicy addition, settles over them, pushing aside the last vestiges of resistance. The 'girls' trip' has just taken a detour, and nobody seems truly upset about it anymore.

—

Spring break finally hits, washing away the hell that was midterms, late-night cramming, weeks of caffeine-fueled meltdowns, profs who clearly don't give a fuck and the club’s endless deadlines. It’s been a brutal stretch, but now it’s over, and the relief is practically physical.

Hanni’s been blowing up your phone since the invite, hyping this Caribbean trip like crazy, and you’re just as hyped, buzzing to ditch the gray campus grind for some actual sun. The girls have been prepping hard—Hanni sending packing pics—half her suitcase is bikinis and crop tops— Danielle dropping Insta stories of her shopping for “tropical fits,” and Minji being the quiet, practical one, texting Hanni about flight times and visa stuff like the group's unofficial mom.

You don’t actually see them ‘til the airport, though. When you roll up with your beat-up duffel slung over your shoulder, Hanni spots you first, sprinting across the terminal like she’s mainlining sugar, slamming into you with a hug that almost takes you out. “You made it!” she yells, arms locked around your neck, totally beaming. Her bangs bounces as she pulls back to look at you, eyes sparkling.

You return the hug. "Wouldn't miss it. Someone's gotta help manage all that stress, right?" You give her a squeeze before gently disentangling yourself enough to greet the others, though Hanni immediately links her arm through yours, leaning against your side possessively. Minji offers a small, polite smile, still looking a little tired but definitely less stressed than the last time you saw her surrounded by textbooks. "Hey," she says, adjusting the strap of her carry-on. "Glad you could make it. Try not to lose Hanni before we even board."

Then your eyes land on Danielle, and you do a slight double-take. Gone are the usual worn-out jeans and practical hoodie she practically lived in during that last disastrous Media Club budget meeting where you helped by analyzing some spreadsheets and trying to bring some light even though you are not a member. Instead, she’s wearing a long, flowing maxi dress alive with bright tropical flowers, paired with strappy sandals totally impractical for airport trekking but perfect for the destination. It catches the eye amidst the drab airport surroundings, making her look relaxed, almost like a different person. She grins, giving the flowy dress a little swish. "What do you think?" she asks, striking a mock pose. "Vacation Dani. Decided jeans are not the vibe for palm trees.”

"It looks awesome, Dani. Seriously suits you. Vacation Dani is gonna kill it." Her grin widens. "Thanks! That's the plan." Hanni tugs at your arm, reclaiming your attention. "Okay, okay, compliments later. Bags need dropping, security needs conquering, tropical drinks need acquiring." She practically drags you towards the check-in line, keeping up a running commentary about the questionable fashion choices of fellow passengers and her detailed plans for claiming the best beach chair upon arrival.

The check-in and security process is the usual purgatory of modern travel: shuffling lines, unpacking electronics, the mild humiliation of the full-body scanner, but the shared anticipation keeps spirits relatively high. Even Minji seems to be loosening up, pointing out a ridiculously oversized inflatable flamingo someone is trying to argue is a valid carry-on item. Danielle and Hanni dissolve into giggles. Finally, you're through, settling into the slightly less chaotic departure gate area. Hanni immediately claims the seat next to you, her thigh pressed against yours, occasionally resting her head on your shoulder while scrolling through pictures of St. Lucia on her phone, narrating potential activities. Danielle and Minji chat opposite you, Danielle already scouting the duty-free shops for bargain sunglasses. The flight itself is uneventful; cramped seats, a mediocre movie you watch half-heartedly with shared earbuds with Hanni, the strange sensation of hurtling through the sky miles above the earth. Hanni dozes off for a bit, her head heavy on your shoulder, soft breaths puffing against your neck. You look out the small window, watching the clouds drift below, the feeling of escape slowly starting to sink in.

Landing in St. Lucia is like stepping into a different world. The moment the plane doors hiss open, you're hit by a wall of warm, humid air thick with the scent of salt, tropical flowers, and something earthy and unfamiliar. It's a welcome shock after the recycled, chilled air of the plane and the lingering damp chill of back home. Sunlight streams through the airport windows, brighter and more intense than you're used to. The sounds are different too, the rhythm of Creole chatter, distant reggae music, birds calling outside. Everyone's skin seems kissed by the sun. Danielle practically skips down the air stairs, tilting her face up to the sun. Minji takes a deep breath. Hanni squeezes your hand, her eyes wide with wonder. "Okay, yeah," she breathes. "This was a good idea."

Clearing customs and grabbing your luggage feels less like a chore and more like the final hurdle before freedom. You pile into a slightly battered taxi van, the driver greeting you with a warm smile and launching into recommendations for local food spots. The drive to the Airbnb is a vibrant assault on the senses, winding roads curving through lush green hillsides dotted with brightly painted houses, glimpses of impossibly turquoise water flashing between palm trees, roadside fruit stands overflowing with colourful produce. The air rushing through the open windows carries the soundtrack of the island: laughter, music, an occasional bleating goat.

The Airbnb turns out to be pretty damn good. It's a spacious villa tucked away on a hillside, painted a cheerful coral colour. Inside, cool tile floors offer relief from the heat. There's a decent-sized living area with comfy-looking furniture, a functional kitchen, and best of all, a wide balcony overlooking a stretch of jungle that slopes down towards a distant slice of blue ocean. It might not be the five-star luxury of some resorts, but it feels authentic, private, and definitely relaxing. There are indeed three bedrooms, as planned. Danielle and Minji quickly claim the two smaller ones, leaving the largest, the one with the slightly better view from its window, for you and Hanni. Bags are dropped unceremoniously, shoes kicked off. The initial adrenaline rush of arrival starts to fade, replaced by the bone-deep weariness of travel.

Danielle yawns hugely, collapsing onto one of the sofas. "Okay, naptime," she declares. "My brain is officially offline until further notice." Minji nods in agreement, already heading towards her room. "Wake me if there's food. Or never." You follow Hanni into your designated room. It's simple but clean, with a big queen-sized bed dominating the space. Hanni wastes no time, unbuttoning her pants and taking them off hurriedly, rummaging through her bag until she finally finds her comfortable shorts and puts them on, then she flops face-down onto the mattress with a groan of pure exhaustion. "Bed," she mumbles into the comforter. "Sweet, stationary bed." You drop your bag and stretch, feeling the kinks in your back from the long flight. Kicking off your own shoes, you lie down on the bed next to her, the coolness of the sheets a small blessing. The sounds of the island drift in through the open window; cicadas buzzing, distant surf, unfamiliar bird calls.

It's peaceful, a world away from campus life.

Hanni rolls over to face you, propping her head up on her hand. Even exhausted, her eyes are sparkling. "So," she whispers. "Excited to be here? Finally?" You smile back, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Definitely. Place is amazing. You picked well." Her smile widens. "We picked well," she corrects, then scoots a little closer. "And... you know Dani thinks you're hot, right? She literally said it when we were drunk in the pub talking about bringing you here. And Minji... she was trying to play it cool, but I saw her checking you out at the gate." A familiar warmth sparks in your belly despite the fatigue. Hanni's eyes flick down to your lips for a second, then back up. "Just... possibilities, you know? For maximizing the stress relief." Her fingers trace a light pattern on your arm.

You lean in slightly. "And you'd be okay with... sharing the stress relief?"

Her gaze holds yours. "As long as I get first dibs," she murmurs, her lips brushing yours for a fleeting moment. "And second dibs. And probably thirds. And as long as I get to join in whenever I feel like it." She yawns then, a wide, jaw-cracking yawn that breaks the spell slightly. "But mostly," she adds, her eyes fluttering closed, "right now I need sleep." You chuckle, pulling the light sheet over both of you. "Sleep sounds good." The exhaustion finally wins, pulling you both down into the welcome darkness, the teasing possibilities left hanging, waiting for the Caribbean sun and rested bodies to bring them to life.

—

The first thing you register is warmth, a comfortable weight pressing down on your chest, and the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing near your ear. You crack open an eye, the afternoon sun filtering through the slats of the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the simple room. Your body feels amazing: deeply rested, completely unwound from the cramped flight and the lingering stress of campus life. The nap wasn't just a nap; it was a full system reboot. Beneath you, the mattress feels solid, stationary, a welcome contrast to the hours spent hurtling through the sky. You shift slightly, and the weight on you stirs. Hanni mumbles something incoherent into your t-shirt, nuzzling closer like a cat seeking heat. Her dark hair tickles your chin, smelling faintly of coconut shampoo and airplane air. One of her legs is hooked over yours, her arm slung possessively across your ribs. Even in sleep, she’s staked her claim. You carefully lift a hand, gently brushing strands of hair away from her face. She looks peaceful, younger somehow without the usual spark of manic energy animating her features. The exhaustion is gone from her face too, replaced by the soft flush of deep sleep. It’s nice, seeing this quiet side of her, but a bigger part of you is already buzzing, eager to get out there and actually experience this place. St. Lucia is waiting just outside that window.

Hanni stirs again, blinking slowly. Her eyes focus on you, still clouded with sleep for a second before recognition dawns, followed swiftly by a lazy, satisfied smile that makes something warm curl in your stomach. "Mmm, morning," she murmurs. "Or... afternoon? Whatever. You feel comfy." She stretches languidly, her body arching against yours. The thin sheet barely conceals the curves you know are hiding underneath, curves she apparently might be willing to share later, according to her sleepy pre-nap proposition.

"Best nap ever," she adds, yawning wide. "Did I drool on you? Sorry if I drooled." You chuckle, shaking your head. "Nah, you're good. Slept like the dead." You gently nudge her. "But I think the island's calling. Pretty sure I heard a palm tree whispering my name." Hanni giggles, finally rolling off you, though she immediately props herself up on an elbow, her gaze tracing the line of your jaw. "Okay, okay, I'm up. Mostly." She swings her legs over the side of the bed, stretching again, this time showing off the curve of her spine and the slight swell of her hips in the sleep shorts.

"Food first? I think my stomach digested itself while we were out." You nod, already swinging your own legs out. "Food sounds essential. Then maybe figure out what Dani and Minji are up to." You glance towards your bag, thinking about clothes. The heat radiating from outside the window demands something light. You pull out a pair of comfortable shorts and a thin linen shirt, definitely more tropical than the jeans you flew in. As you start changing, Hanni rummages through her own bag, pulling out a brightly colored sundress. Underneath, you glimpse the strap of a bikini top. Seems everyone had the same idea about being beach-ready at a moment's notice. "Think they survived the nap?" Hanni asks, slipping the dress over her head. "Dani looked like she was about to hibernate for a week. And Minji... well, Minji always looks like she needs more sleep."

You find Danielle and Minji already in the living area, looking significantly more human than when you last saw them. Dani’s wearing denim shorts and a loose tank top, tapping away on her phone. Minji, dressed in light linen pants and a simple white top, is peering into the fridge. "Morning, sunshine," Danielle chirps without looking up. "Or, you know, afternoon sunshine. Find anything edible in there, Minj?" Minji shakes her head, closing the fridge door with a sigh. "Snacks from the flight and half a bottle of water. We definitely need provisions. Or, ideally, someone else making us breakfast." Hanni bounces into the room, radiating recovered energy. "Breakfast out! My treat. Consider it a 'thank you for letting me bring my favorite stress-reliever' brunch." She winks broadly at you, then loops her arm through yours again.

Danielle finally looks up, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Oooh, a thank-you brunch? I accept. Especially if the stress-reliever is buying coffee." You laugh, raising your hands in mock surrender. "Coffee, food, whatever you guys want. Lead the way." Minji grabs her sunglasses from the table. "Okay, but somewhere with actual shade, please? My eyes are still adjusting to not staring at a screen."

Finding a breakfast spot isn't hard. You wander down the winding road from the villa, the casual pace feels alien after the usual campus rush. You end up at a small, open-air cafe overlooking a marina filled with bobbing sailboats. Brightly colored fishing boats chug past further out, leaving white wakes on the impossibly blue water. The vibe is incredibly chill. You order fresh juices, strong coffee, and plates piled high with eggs, local fruit, and something called 'bake'; a fried bread that's ridiculously tasty. Conversation flows easily, mostly rehashing the horrors of midterms now that they're safely in the rearview mirror, speculating about the expensive resort Hanni initially found, and Danielle telling—first time for you, thousandth time for the girls—the story of the day she bleached and cut her hair.

"Seriously," she says, gesturing emphatically with her fork, "the stylist kept saying 'are you sure?' like I was asking her to tattoo her name on my forehead. It's just hair! It grows back!"

Minji chuckles, sipping her mango juice. "That was an amazing transformation, Dani. Really. Very... un-academic." Hanni nods vigorously. "Totally! You looked like you belonged on that yacht over there." She points towards a sleek white vessel gliding into the marina. You lean back in your chair, sipping your coffee, just listening to them banter. It feels good, normal, surprisingly easy to just be here with them. Hanni keeps leaning into your space, her shoulder brushing yours, her hand occasionally finding yours under the table for a quick squeeze. It’s comfortable, familiar, but you also catch Danielle watching the interaction with open amusement, while Minji glances over occasionally with an expression that’s harder to read… maybe curiosity, maybe just observation.

After breakfast, fueled by caffeine and carbs, the consensus is to explore a bit before hitting the beach. You wander through the nearby town, a vibrant collection of pastel-painted buildings, bustling markets selling spices and woven baskets, and locals calling out friendly greetings. You duck into a few shops selling touristy trinkets, laughing at the ridiculous t-shirts. Danielle buys a pair of cheap, oversized sunglasses shaped like pineapples, declaring them essential for "Vacation Dani's aesthetic". Minji seems genuinely interested in a stall selling handmade jewelry, carefully examining delicate shell necklaces. Hanni drags you over to look at bright pareos, holding a turquoise one up against you. "This color would look amazing on you," she insists. "Matches your eyes... almost." You deflect, laughing, but the easy intimacy of the gesture isn't lost on you, or on the other two who watch with matching smiles.

You grab some bottles of water and eventually find yourselves near one of the island’s famous landmarks: the Pitons, two majestic volcanic peaks rising almost cinematically from the sea. You don't hike them, opting instead for a viewpoint that offers stunning panoramic views. The sheer scale of them is breathtaking, green slopes plunging down to the sparkling blue water. Naturally, this calls for photos. Danielle immediately takes charge, directing poses. "Okay, group shot! Squeeze in! Hanni, stop trying to climb onto his back." More laughter. You snap pictures of the girls with the Pitons as a backdrop, individual shots, selfies. Danielle insists on taking several of you and Hanni together, positioning you close, making Hanni wrap her arms around your waist from behind. "Perfect!" she declares, reviewing the shot on her phone. "Look how cute you two are. Disgustingly cute." Hanni beams, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder blade before pulling away. You feel a flush creep up your neck, partly from the heat, partly from the casual display in front of the others. Minji watches, leaning against the railing, sunglasses hiding her eyes, but the corner of her mouth is tilted up in a small smile.

Finally, the call of the ocean becomes too strong to ignore. You find a stretch of beach recommended by the cafe owner—a crescent of soft, pale sand fringed by swaying palm trees. It’s definitely popular; colorful umbrellas dot the sand, families splash in the shallows, and couples stroll along the water's edge. It's lively, but not overwhelmingly crowded like you feared Cancun might be. Music drifts from a nearby beach bar. This is exactly what everyone needed. Without much ceremony, the girls start shedding their outer layers. Hanni’s sundress comes off to reveal a vibrant orange bikini, the top simple triangles, the bottoms cut high on her hips, emphasizing their curve. She might be the shortest, but her body is compact and seriously juicy, and seeing those curves again, now in a new light, is refreshing; those slightly wide hips, the soft curve of her belly above the bikini bottom, all perfectly proportioned. She shakes her hair out, grinning at you cheekily.

Danielle ditches her shorts and tank top for a sleek black bikini. It’s more athletic in style, but holy shit. The top has intricate straps across the back, and the bottoms sit low, showcasing a defined abs that ripple as she moves. She’s leaner than Hanni, but all tight curves and toned muscle. She catches you looking and strikes another playful pose, hand on her hip. "Eyes up here, buddy," she teases, though her own gaze flickers down your torso for a split second.

Then Minji unfolds from her linen layers. Her choice is a deep emerald green two-piece. The top is minimalist, barely there, highlighting the elegant line of her collarbones and, yeah, confirming Hanni’s assessment—definitely small, a little bigger than Dani's, which you happen to appreciate. But the bottoms... they’re cut perfectly to showcase what is undeniably a spectacular ass. She’s taller than the others, with a thicker build, unpretentiously hot in a way that’s incredibly appealing. She turns to grab her towel, giving you an unimpeded view that makes your mouth go slightly dry.

Damn. The three of them together, bathed in the Caribbean sun, shedding the last vestiges of their student identities, are a fucking revelation.

Feeling the heat yourself, and suddenly very aware of being the only one still fully clothed, you pull your linen shirt off over your head, tossing it onto the growing pile of discarded clothes and towels. Hanni lets out an appreciative little hum. Danielle whistles softly. Minji just raises an eyebrow before she turns towards the water. "Last one in buys the first round of rum punch!" Danielle yells, already sprinting towards the turquoise waves. Hanni shrieks with laughter and takes off after her, splashing loudly as she hits the shallows. You exchange a quick glance with Minji. A silent challenge passes between you. You both break into a run, pounding across the warm sand, the sheer joy of the moment infectious.

You hit the water just behind Danielle, the cool rush a welcome shock against your hot skin. Hanni surfaces beside you, spluttering and laughing, immediately splashing you in the face. An impromptu water fight breaks out, devolving quickly into dunking attempts and general chaos. You find yourself wrestling playfully with Hanni, easily overpowering her small frame until Danielle teams up with her, both of them trying to drag you under while Minji watches from a few feet away, a genuine, wide smile finally gracing her face as she ducks a stray splash. You surrender, laughing, letting them dunk you before coming up sputtering. The water is crystal clear, the perfect temperature. Floating on your back, looking up at the vast blue sky, the stress feels like a distant memory, something that happened to someone else in another life.

Later, you all buy coconut water from a vendor walking the beach, sipping the cool liquid straight from the shells. You find some lounge chairs under a palm tree, settling in to dry off and just soak it all in. The conversation is relaxed, interspersed with comfortable silences. You talk about music, shitty campus jobs, travel dreams. Hanni leans against your chair, tracing patterns on your knee. Danielle scrolls through the photos she took earlier, narrating potential Instagram captions. Minji surprises you by asking about your work in the Innovation Club, showing genuine interest in the projects you mentioned offhand. You find yourself talking easily, sharing stories, laughing at their anecdotes. Every so often, your gaze drifts—to the curve of Hanni’s hip as she shifts, the way the sun glints off Danielle’s damp dark hair, the smooth expanse of Minji’s back as she reapplies sunscreen. And sometimes, you catch them looking back—Hanni’s gaze possessive and warm, Danielle’s open and appraising, Minji’s quick and thoughtful before flicking away. It’s not awkward, not yet anyway. It just... is. A current of awareness underneath the easy camaraderie. You feel yourself relaxing into the group, not just as Hanni’s plus-one, but as part of this specific configuration, here on this island.

The walk back to the villa is slower, limbs heavy with sun and salt water fatigue, but spirits are high. Sand seems to have infiltrated every possible crevice. You carry a bag heavy with takeout containers from a local spot the beach vendor recommended—grilled fish, rice and peas, fried plantains—the smell mingling with the lingering scent of sunscreen on your skin. Back inside the cool tiled haven of the Airbnb, it's a synchronized operation born of shared exhaustion. Food is dumped on the kitchen counter, bags are dropped, and a silent agreement is reached: showers first, then sustenance. You take turns, the spray washing away the grit and salt, leaving your skin tingling and refreshed. You change into fresh clothes; comfortable shorts and a clean t-shirt. When you emerge, the girls are gradually doing the same.

Hanni appears in a short, flowy white dress that leaves her shoulders bare, her damp hair slicked back. Danielle rocks a pair of ripped black jeans and a fitted band tee. Minji opts for a simple, dark purple maxi dress that emphasizes her height and clings subtly to her curves; she’s added a touch of dark lipstick that makes her mouth look incredibly plush. They all look fantastic, relaxed and glowing from the day in the sun, the weariness replaced by a comfortable, post-beach languor. You gather around the table, tearing into the takeout containers with minimal ceremony, conversation punctuated by satisfied groans and the clinking of forks.

Later, showered, fed, and buzzing with a pleasant tiredness, the energy shifts again. The quiet relaxation of the villa feels too contained for the lingering holiday buzz. "Okay," Hanni announces, pushing her empty container away. "Food coma is setting in. We need libations. And music that isn't just cicadas." Danielle nods eagerly. "Beach bar? I saw one on the walk back that looked like it had potential. Fairy lights and everything." Minji shrugs. "Sounds good. As long as they have something other than rum punch. I think I'm still tasting coconut from this afternoon." So, you head out again, walking down the now-darkening road towards the sound of faint music and the rhythmic crash of waves.

The seaside bar is exactly as Danielle described: strings of fairy lights draped between palm trees, low wooden tables scattered across a sandy floor just yards from the water's edge, a gentle breeze carrying the salt spray. Reggae music drifts from speakers, loud enough to feel but not so loud you have to shout. It’s perfect. You find a table slightly away from the main bar area, offering a bit more privacy and a clear view of the moonlit ocean. The first round of drinks arrives quickly, potent cocktails in various shades of pink and orange for the girls, a cold beer for you. The alcohol hits faster this time, layering nicely onto the residual relaxation from the sun and the satisfying meal. Laughter comes easier, conversation flows looser. Hanni kicks off her sandals under the table, her bare foot brushing against your calf. Danielle leans back, surveying the scene with a satisfied grin. Minji seems more animated, joining the banter more readily.

Another round arrives. The initial chatter about the day's adventures starts to fade, replaced by a more intimate, charged energy fueled by the booze and the proximity under the dim lights. Hanni, never one to shy away, leans forward, resting her chin on her hands, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looks directly at you. "Okay, serious question time," she suddenly announces, drawing the others' attention. She gestures vaguely between Danielle and Minji. "Them. Hot, right?" The question hangs there, blunt and direct. Danielle raises an eyebrow, a slow, amused smirk spreading across her face. Minji freezes for a split second, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly before she quickly looks down into her drink, though you see a faint blush creep up her neck.

You feel your own cheeks warm slightly, caught off guard but also weirdly pleased by Hanni’s boldness. You take a slow sip of your beer, meeting Hanni's challenging gaze. "Uh, yeah," you manage. "Obviously. They're both gorgeous." Hanni beams, clearly satisfied with phase one.

"Obviously," she echoes. "But details, details! What do you like most?" She leans in closer, conspiratorial. "Come on, don't be shy. We're all friends here... very good friends." Danielle leans forward too, her expression purely curious, maybe a little flattered. Minji keeps her eyes fixed on her drink, but she’s definitely listening, the blush deepening slightly. You feel put on the spot, but the alcohol buzz makes you bolder than usual. You glance at Danielle first. "Okay, uh... Dani?" You meet her amused gaze. "Your smile. Seriously. It’s like... super bright? Lights up your whole face. It’s really charming."

Danielle's smirk softens into a genuine, pleased grin. "Aww, thanks!" she says, actually looking a little bashful for a moment. Then you turn your attention to Minji, who still isn’t looking up. "And Minji..." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "Your lips." Her head snaps up at that, her eyes meeting yours. "They’re... really nice," you continue, feeling a bit awkward but pushing on. "Like, really plump. It gives a special touch to your face. And that lipstick you've got on tonight? Looks amazing." Minji’s blush flares again, reaching her ears this time, but she doesn’t look away. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touches the lips you just complimented.

Hanni claps her hands together softly. "See? Knew you had good taste! And her lips aren't just nice to look at," she adds, leaning towards you again. "They're super soft too." You frown slightly, playing along, though Hanni’s earlier hints are clicking into place. "Oh yeah? And how would you know that?" Hanni grins wickedly, her eyes flicking towards Minji, who quickly looks away again, though the small smile lingers. "Because I've kissed them, obviously!" she declares matter-of-factly, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Danielle bursts out laughing. "Oh my god, Han! Just drop it on him like that!" She turns to you, shaking her head. "No subtlety, this one." Hanni shrugs nonchalantly. "What? It's true. Right, Minj?" Minji mumbles something into her drink that sounds vaguely affirmative, still blushing furiously but not denying it.

"Wait, really?" you ask, genuinely surprised by the casual confirmation. Hanni nods. "Uh-huh. Long story. Involved too much cheap wine and a really bad rom-com marathon sophomore year." Danielle pipes up. "Ooh! You know what? Minji should give him a little demo! Just a peek!" Hanni grins. "Yeah, Minj! Show him how soft they are!" Minji looks horrified, her eyes darting between Hanni and Danielle. "No! Guys, stop!" she protests, but there's no real heat behind it, mostly flustered embarrassment.

"Come on," you coax gently, leaning slightly towards her across the table, emboldened by the alcohol and the sheer unexpectedness of the situation. "Just a quick one? For science?" She hesitates, biting her lip, the one you just complimented, then lets out a tiny sigh of defeat, glancing quickly at Hanni and Danielle's encouraging faces. "Okay, fine," she whispers, sounding resigned but maybe a tiny bit intrigued too. "Just... fast." You both lean forward across the small table, the space between you suddenly charged. Her eyes meet yours for a fraction of second before fluttering closed. You press your lips gently against hers. Hanni was right. They are incredibly soft, plush, tasting faintly of her fruity cocktail and that dark lipstick. It’s barely a kiss, just a soft, brief pressure, over almost as soon as it begins. You both pull back simultaneously, Minji immediately grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, though the blush on her cheeks is now practically neon. Danielle and Hanni are practically vibrating with glee. "See?!" Hanni exclaims triumphantly. "Told you!"

The brief kiss seems to break some kind of barrier. Danielle leans forward, her expression shifting from amusement to genuine curiosity. "Okay, so now that we're all being honest... dish. You and Hanni." She gestures between you. "What's the deal? Like, what's she really like?" Minji looks up, her curiosity apparently overcoming her embarrassment. Hanni squirms slightly but looks at you expectantly. The question hangs there. They want the details. You glance at Hanni, who gives you a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Permission granted.

"She's..." you start, choosing your words carefully, mindful of the audience but wanting to be honest. "She likes to give up control. A lot." You pause, seeing Hanni's cheeks flush slightly but her eyes stay fixed on you. "Definitely submissive. And... needy. Like, really needy sometimes. In a good way," you quickly add. Hanni bites her lip, looking down at the table but not protesting. "Okay, yeah, fine," she mumbles. "That's... true." She looks up, meeting your eyes, a flicker of heat there. "And I like getting my ass slapped," she adds suddenly, defiantly, looking around the table. "Like, really hard sometimes." Danielle nods sagely. "Oh, we know, honey. We've heard the complaints about bruises." Hanni throws a napkin at her. Danielle laughs again, then turns back to you, her gaze sharp. "She's also really good with her mouth, though, right?" Her tone is casual, but the implication is clear. "Best head on campus, probably."

You feel your own face flush this time, but you can't exactly deny it. "Uh... yeah," you confirm, clearing your throat. "Yeah, she definitely is." You look at Danielle, a sudden suspicion dawning. "Wait a minute... how do you know? Have you two...?" Before you can even finish the question, Danielle cuts you off with a nod and a grin. "Yep." Hanni chimes in, waving her hand dismissively like it's old news. "Oh my god, babe, catch up. We've all hooked up. With each other. Multiple times."

You stare at her, then at Danielle, then at Minji, who is suddenly looking intensely interested in a scratch on the tabletop. "Wait. All of you? Even... Minji?" The idea seems incongruous with the shy girl who blushed at a compliment about her lips just moments ago. Danielle bursts out laughing again, louder this time. "Him asking about Minji! That's rich!" Hanni leans towards you again, lowering her voice dramatically. "Don't let the quiet act fool you. Seriously. This one?" She jerks her head towards Minji. "She's the worst of the lot. Total freak." Minji finally looks up, swatting weakly at Hanni's arm. "Hanni! Stop it!" she protests, but she’s giggling now, the blush returning with a vengeance. "It's true!" Danielle insists gleefully. "She's a total gooner! Seriously, if you saw her private Twitter account, you'd lose your mind. It's nothing but porn. Wall-to-wall." You look from Danielle's laughing face to Minji's mortified-but-giggling one.

"No way," you say, shaking your head. "I don't believe you." Hanni's eyes light up. "Oh yeah? Prove it, Minj! Show him!" Danielle chimes in, "Yeah, Minji, show him your shame!" Everyone is definitely several drinks deep now, the teasing fueled by alcohol and the increasingly charged atmosphere. Minji groans, hiding her face in her hands for a second. "Oh my god, you guys are the worst." But then she peeks through her fingers, looking at your skeptical face, then back at her grinning friends. A drunken shrug overtakes her embarrassment. "Ugh, fine! Whatever! Don't judge me!" She fumbles for her phone, unlocks it with slightly unsteady fingers, navigates somewhere, and then pushes the phone across the table towards you, refusing to watch your reaction.

You pick up the phone hesitantly. And holy shit. Danielle wasn't exaggerating. It's an Twitter feed, alright, but the timeline is an endless scroll of hardcore pornography. Just post after post. There's a lot of lesbian content, scenes featuring girls who look vaguely like college students, often involving strap-on use that looks surprisingly intense. There are clips of girls in clearly submissive roles, scenes heavy on BDSM elements—spanking, bondage, orgasm denial. You even scroll past some graphic bukkake clips and numerous retweets from other accounts that were clearly thirsty gooners just like her, It's... a lot. A very specific, surprisingly intense collection. You scroll for a few moments, genuinely taken aback but also undeniably intrigued. This quiet, reserved girl has this bubbling beneath the surface? You slide the phone back across the table to Minji, who snatches it back quickly, her face flaming.

You look at her, seeing her in a completely new light. Hanni leans forward eagerly. "So? What do you think? Pretty wild, right?" You take another swig of beer, your mind racing slightly, trying to reconcile the shy girl from earlier with the curator of that feed. "Yeah," you admit. "Wow. I... I liked it." You meet Minji's wide eyes, then glance at Danielle, then Hanni. "I like all of you," you clarify. Minji, emboldened by alcohol and perhaps the exposure of her secret, takes a deep breath and blurts out, "Okay, all this talk... it's kinda making me really horny." A beat of silence follows her confession, then Hanni and Danielle explode into laughter, not mocking, but relieved, echoing the sentiment. "Girl, same!" Danielle exclaims, fanning herself dramatically. Hanni's foot, which had been playing footsie with your calf, slides higher, pressing deliberately against the inside of your thigh. "Tell me about it," she murmurs, looking straight at you.

Then, subtly, almost imperceptibly to anyone not paying attention, her hand disappears beneath the edge of the table. You feel a sudden warmth brush against your leg, followed by the unmistakable pressure of her fingers closing around you through the fabric of your shorts. You were already semi-hard from the conversation and Minji’s surprising revelation, but Hanni’s direct touch sends a shockwave straight through you. Her grip is firm, knowing, squeezing rhythmically, chasing away any remaining shred of drunken haze, replacing it with focused heat. Your cock leaps against her palm, instantly thick and fully hard, straining against the confinement of your shorts. She lets out a low hum of approval, her thumb stroking slowly over the rigid head through the material. Her eyes don't leave yours as she leans in slightly, her voice a low murmur just for you, though the others are definitely watching now, their own conversations faltering. "Someone else feeling horny too?" she asks. Her fingers tighten again, emphasizing the point. You nod, unable to trust your voice for a second, swallowing hard.

"Yes," you manage, the word rough. "A lot." Her lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. "Good," she whispers. "Think you might want to help us... get some release? We seem to be having a bit of a problem." She glances meaningfully at Danielle and Minji, who are both watching the interaction intently. You look at them, then back at Hanni's hand clamped firmly around your erection. There’s no hesitation. "Yeah," you say. "Yeah, I would."

"All of us, though?" Dani asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "That's a lot of... stress relief needed. Think you can handle the workload?" You meet her gaze squarely, feeling a surge of confidence fueled by the alcohol, the blatant desire from all three girls, and the throbbing hardness currently being expertly manipulated under the table. "Don't worry about me," you assure her, letting a smirk touch your lips. "I can handle it." Danielle studies you for a moment, then a slow grin spreads across her face. She nods once, decisively. "Okay then," she says, pushing her chair back slightly. "Convinced. Let's blow this popsicle stand." Hanni removes her hand, leaving you aching and overly sensitive, and immediately flags down the server. The bill is settled quickly, a blur of crumpled bills and credit cards amidst giddy, slightly slurred instructions.

The walk back to the villa is something else. Hands brush accidentally-on-purpose, glances linger far too long, bursts of nervous laughter bubble up and fade just as quickly. You're hyper-aware of Hanni pressed against your side, Danielle walking slightly ahead but looking back frequently with that challenging grin, and Minji trailing just behind, her eyes fixed on you with an unnerving focus.

—

Inside, the door barely clicks shut before the fragile dam of drunken restraint breaks. It's not a frantic rush, but a magnetic pull. Eyes lock, breaths hitch. Without a word, you all seem to gravitate towards the back of the villa, towards the room you're sharing with Hanni, the one with the bigger bed. Inside the room, the dim light spilling from the hallway casts long shadows. Hanni kicks the door shut. The click echoes in the sudden quiet. Then, they turn to you as one.

"Sit," Danielle commands, pointing towards the large bed dominating the room. You obey, perching on the edge, your heart hammering against your ribs, your cock already aching behind your zipper. They converge on you, a wave of perfume, booze, and female heat. Hands are everywhere, immediately working at the buttons of your shirt, the buckle of your belt. Hanni leans in, her lips finding yours in a demanding kiss, tongue plunging deep, tasting like sweet cocktails and pure need. Simultaneously, Danielle is working on your shorts, her knuckles brushing against your thigh, while Minji’s surprisingly cool fingers are undoing your belt buckle with fumbling but determined movements. Kisses land on your jaw, your neck, interspersed with soft murmurs and pleased little sounds as your shirt comes off, tossed carelessly onto the floor. They pull back slightly to wrestle your shorts and boxers down your legs, clumsy in their eagerness. And then you're naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, fully exposed under their combined gaze.

A collective intake of breath follows. Their eyes drop to your cock, now completely hard and jutting proudly upwards, thick and heavy in the dim light. "Holy shit," Danielle breathes, her eyes wide. Minji just stares, her lips slightly parted, her earlier blush returning. Hanni beams, puffing her chest out slightly, a ridiculous wave of proprietary pride washing over her flushed face. "Told you," she says smugly. She reaches out, her fingers gently cupping your balls, weighing them in her palm before tracing a single finger up the thick, straining shaft. You groan involuntarily at the touch. Then, as quickly as they converged, they pull back, leaving you momentarily alone on the bed, throbbing and exposed.

They exchange glances, a silent, giddy agreement passing between them. And then their clothes start coming off. It’s not a polished performance; it’s a clumsy, drunken, utterly captivating strip tease. Hanni fumbles with the zipper on the back of her white dress, giggling as Danielle reaches over to help her, their fingers brushing, sparking little smiles. The dress pools at her feet, revealing her red panties and bra. Minji pulls her maxi dress over her head in one smooth motion, her dark hair falling across her face for a second before she shakes it back, revealing simple dark underwear beneath. Danielle makes a show of unbuttoning her band tee slowly, teasingly, before peeling it off, then struggling for a comical moment with the button on her tight shorts, hopping slightly. You can't help yourself; the sight is overwhelming. Your hand finds your own cock, slicking unconsciously back and forth, a gentle pressure trying to alleviate the almost painful tightness in your groin as you watch them.

Layer by layer, the clothes disappear. Hanni peels off her bra, revealing familiar, medium, perky breasts, her nipples already tight little buds, a slightly lighter shade of pinkish-brown. Her bottoms follow, showcasing those juicy hips and the soft curve of her stomach. You know her body well, every curve, every freckle, but seeing her reveal herself alongside the others, the anticipation of finally tasting what she’s offered, makes her look brand new, utterly delicious. Danielle steps out of her shorts and removes her bra and panties skillfully, tossing them aside. Her body is exactly as advertised by that bikini—lean, toned muscle, tight curves, that incredibly sculpted stomach, and an ass that’s high, round, and practically begging to be grabbed. Her breasts are small and firm, fitting perfectly with her athletic frame.

Then Minji. She slips off her dark bra and panties with less fanfare but no less impact. Her body is softer than Danielle's, taller, with that amazing thickness that you could glimpse on the beach. Her ass is spectacular, full and round, contrasting beautifully with her narrow waist. And as she turns slightly, you notice it, unlike the others, Minji has a neatly trimmed patch of dark pubic hair, a small, perfect triangle that somehow looks incredibly erotic, drawing your eye right to the juncture of her thighs. Her nipples are puffy like Hanni’s, tight points betraying her arousal, but darker, a deep brown against her paler skin. Naked, flushed, slightly unsteady on their feet but radiating pure heat, they stand before you, a breathtaking trio of distinctly beautiful, completely desirable girls.

The hesitation evaporates. They move towards the bed again, converging on you. This time, the kisses are frantic, hungry. All three mouths descend on yours at once, a confusing, exhilarating tangle of tongues, teeth, and soft lips. You taste Hanni's familiar sweetness, Danielle's minty gum underneath the alcohol, Minji's dark lipstick and fruity cocktail. It’s overwhelming, chaotic, pure sensation. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they shift, allowing for more individual attention. Danielle kisses you hard, her hand gripping the back of your neck, before pulling away slightly, breathless. Minji follows, her kiss surprisingly bold, her plump lips pressing firmly against yours, her tongue exploring tentatively. Then Hanni takes over again, slower this time, deeper, staking her claim before finally pulling back, leaving you gasping, your lips tingling. Without a word, Minji and Danielle slide off the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs on the cool tile floor. Their eyes meet yours for a split second—Danielle’s full of playful fire, Minji’s dark and intense, her earlier shyness completely burned away by booze and lust.

Then, they lower their heads. The first touch is electric—Minji’s soft lips closing around the base of your shaft while Danielle flicks her tongue experimentally over the sensitive tip. A wave of heat washes over you, so intense it makes your vision swim for a second. Hanni, meanwhile, clambers onto the bed beside you, straddling your leg, and leans down, her hot mouth closing over one of your nipples, sucking hard. She knows exactly how much you love that, the sharp pleasure radiating through your chest. Below, Minji starts licking slowly up the shaft, her movements deliberate, coating you in saliva, while Danielle focuses on swirling her tongue around the head, occasionally taking the entire glans into her mouth. Watching Minji’s plump, dark-lipstick-smudged lips wrap around your cock is insanely hot, almost surreal after the earlier conversation. She makes a low sound of appreciation in her throat, then shifts her focus, her tongue darting out to lave your balls, taking one into her warm mouth while Danielle takes over the full length of your shaft, her throat working expertly. Hanni keeps sucking, occasionally biting gently, sending sparks down your spine.

Your head is thrown back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded, lost in the onslaught of sensation. Minji’s lips and tongue are working magic on your balls, swirling, sucking gently, driving you insane. Danielle has the entire length of your shaft engulfed, her throat working expertly, bobbing up and down with practiced rhythm. The friction, the wet heat, it’s almost unbearable. Hanni finally releases your nipple, leaving it wet and hypersensitive, and slides down your body to join the others.

"Move over," she murmurs, nudging Minji slightly. "Sharing is caring." Minji glances up, lipstick thoroughly smeared, a dazed, hungry look in her eyes, and shifts slightly, giving Hanni access. Now it's pure lust, three mouths devoted entirely to your cock. Hanni focuses on the base, her tongue mimicking Minji’s earlier attention to your balls while her lips create a tight seal. Minji works the mid-section, her plump lips sliding up and down, while Danielle maintains her relentless assault on the head. You groan, a low, guttural sound torn from your throat, arching off the bed slightly.

"Fuck," Danielle gasps, pulling off for a second, leaving a trail of saliva glistening on your skin. "He tastes so good." Minji nods vigorously, licking her lips slowly as she eyes your still-throbbing shaft. "So good," she agrees. Hanni looks up, grinning, then leans over and captures Minji’s mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, tongues tangling right there next to your thigh. Minji moans into the kiss, her hand coming up to cup Hanni’s cheek. They break apart, breathless, saliva shining on their lips. Danielle watches them, then leans across your lap and kisses Hanni hard. "My turn," she murmurs against Hanni's lips before pulling back and immediately latching back onto your cock with renewed vigor. Hanni laughs, a throaty sound, then dives back in alongside Minji. They work together now, a tag team of tongues and lips, sometimes bumping heads, sometimes pausing to shoot each other competitive little smirks. At one point, Minji deliberately licks a trail up your shaft right into Danielle's mouth, making Danielle groan and push her head away playfully.

"Bitch," Danielle mumbles, before they both dissolve into muffled giggles against your skin. The sight of them teasing each other, kissing while their mouths are slick with your cum-preview, drives you absolutely wild. Your hips start to buck involuntarily against their mouths. "Easy, tiger," Hanni murmurs, pulling off slightly. "Gotta make you last." But you can feel it, the tight knot coiling deep in your gut, the pressure building relentlessly. You're ready. More than ready. You need to be inside one of them, now.

Danielle seems to sense it too. She pulls off completely, her breathing ragged, eyes blazing with drunken lust. "Okay, okay," she pants, looking up at you, determination etched on her face. "Me first. I called dibs, right? Kinda?" She glances at the others for confirmation, though it’s clearly a statement, not a question. Hanni shrugs, still lazily licking the underside of your shaft. "Technically I had first dibs," she points out nonchalantly, referencing her sleepy pre-nap claim. "But whatever. You look like you need it more right now." Minji nods, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Go for it, Dani." Danielle grins, a triumphant, feral look.

She starts to climb onto the bed, clearly intending to mount you. "Uh-uh," you interrupt, your voice coming out rougher, more commanding than you intended, fueled by the overwhelming need to take control. She freezes, looking at you with wide, surprised eyes. "Get on your hands and knees," you order, pointing to the middle of the large bed. "Ass up." A slow, wicked smile spreads across her face. "Yes, sir," she purrs, the words dripping with mock obedience that doesn't quite hide the genuine thrill. She turns without another word and crawls onto the bed, positioning herself exactly as you instructed, hands planted firmly, back arched, presenting her tight, perfect ass directly towards you.

The view is fucking incredible.

Minji watches Danielle get into position, then, with a predatory gleam in her own eyes, she climbs onto the bed as well. She doesn't hesitate, crawling forward until she's sitting directly in front of Danielle, facing her, legs spread wide. She leans back on her hands, tilting her hips slightly, offering an explicit, deliberate view of her own slick, swollen folds and that neatly trimmed patch of hair. Her dark, puffy nipples are tight points, her breathing shallow.

Hanni slides off the floor where she’d been kneeling and comes to your side, pressing her naked body against yours, her skin hot. She reaches down, wrapping her hand around your still-aching cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately. "Ready to play?" she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear before she starts kissing your neck, her tongue tracing lazy circles while her hand keeps up its steady rhythm.

You look at the scene arrayed before you: Danielle, arched and waiting, her tight asshole puckering slightly with anticipation; Minji, sprawled open, her wet cunt glistening invitingly just beyond; Hanni, plastered against your side, her hand working you, her lips on your skin. Your cock pulses in her grip, slick and hard as rock.

Fuck yes, you're ready.

You shift forward, moving between Danielle’s waiting legs, Hanni’s hand dropping away as you position the thick head of your cock right at Danielle’s entrance. She whimpers softly, pushing back against you almost imperceptibly.

You grip Danielle's hips firmly, steadying yourself, steadying her. Her skin is hot and slick with a fine sheen of sweat under your palms. She pushes back against the head of your cock again. You don't make her wait. With a low groan, you thrust forward, pushing into her tight cunt. Holy fuck, she's snug. Her muscles clench around you instinctively, gripping you like a velvet fist. Danielle cries out, a sharp gasp that’s half pain, half pure pleasure, her back arching even more. "Oh god... yes! Fuck, you're thick," she pants. You pause for a second, letting her body adjust, letting yourself savor the incredible sensation of being buried deep inside her heat. It’s delicious, just as you imagined—tight, wet, welcoming. Hanni moans softly against your neck, her hand sliding down your stomach, fingers dancing near the base of your cock where it disappears into Danielle. She keeps kissing you, slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses.

Then, Danielle, still impaled on your cock, twists her head around, her hair sticking slightly to her damp forehead. Her eyes land on Minji, who's watching the penetration with wide, dark, fascinated eyes, her own pussy glistening. A wicked grin splits Danielle's face. "Don't think I forgot about you," she murmurs. She leans forward, stretching, until her face is level with Minji's spread legs. Without hesitation, Danielle's tongue darts out, flicking directly against Minji's clit. Minji gasps, her hips jolting off the bed slightly. "Oh! Fuck, Dani..." she breathes out, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Danielle chuckles, a low, throaty sound, and settles in, her mouth closing over Minji's swollen folds, sucking and licking with obvious expertise while your cock is still buried deep inside her own pussy. The sight is outrageously hot.

The combined stimuli, the incredible tightness surrounding your cock, the sight of Danielle devouring Minji, Hanni’s hot breath and soft lips on your neck, threaten to overload your senses. You need an outlet. As Hanni continues her sensual assault on your neck and shoulders, your free hand drifts down, your hand sliding across her soft skin. She gasps softly against your skin as your fingers probe deeper, easily finding her clit, already hard and slick. She’s soaking wet. You press down, rubbing in slow circles, then faster, mimicking the rhythm of your thrusts into Danielle. Hanni moans louder this time, grinding her hips against your side, pushing herself onto your fingers. "Yes... fuck, right there," she whispers urgently against your ear, her kisses becoming frantic, biting slightly at your earlobe. You start pumping into Danielle again, finding a steady rhythm. She groans with each thrust, her head thrown back now, entirely focused on pleasuring Minji, whose soft whimpers harmonize with Danielle's louder cries. You slide a finger inside Hanni, then two, stretching her slightly.

She gasps, digging her nails into your shoulder, her wetness coating your fingers as you scissor them inside her, hitting her g-spot with deliberate pressure while continuing to fuck Danielle’s tight cunt. It's a great combination of sensations: Danielle’s tight grip around your shaft, the visual feast of her eating Minji out, Hanni’s frantic moans against your ear as your fingers work her magic, the slick slap of skin on skin filling the hot, humid room.

You settle into a driving rhythm, fucking Danielle with deep, steady strokes that make the bed frame groan softly beneath you. Her tight pussy milks you with every plunge, threatening to pull you under completely. "Oh fuck... oh fuck," she chants, head still turned as her tongue works relentlessly between Minji’s legs. Minji is trembling now, whimpers escaping her lips, her hips twitching uncontrollably. Danielle seems to feed off it, her ministrations becoming almost frantic, sucking harder, her fingers finding Minji's clit and rubbing insistently.

Beside you, Hanni is writhing against your hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Deeper," she pants against your neck, her voice strained. "Fuck, yes... finger me harder!" You obey instantly, increasing the speed of your scissoring fingers inside her slick pussy, driving them deeper, hitting that spot again and again. Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing hard circles, mirroring the relentless rhythm of your thrusts into Danielle. Hanni cries out, a high, keening sound, bucking violently against your hand. "Like that! Oh god, don't stop!" Her nails are digging into your back now, leaving trails of fire on your skin. Her wetness coats your hand, slick and hot.

You increase your pace fucking Danielle, slamming into her harder, faster, drawing ragged moans from her throat that mingle with Minji’s higher-pitched cries. Danielle's ass cheeks clench around the base of your cock with each impact. "Jesus Christ," she manages to gasp out between frantic licks against Minji's folds. "You trying to split me in two?" Her voice is breathless, strained, but there’s no complaint in it, only raw, overwhelmed pleasure.

You lean down, grabbing a handful of her sweat-dampened hair, pulling her head back slightly. "You like it rough, don't you?" you growl near her ear. She just groans in response, her eyes rolling back slightly as you pound into her relentlessly, your balls slapping against her wet skin. Minji lets out a choked sob as Danielle’s mouth clamps down hard on her clit. "Dani! Oh fuck... please!" she pleads, though it's unclear if she's begging her to stop or begging for more. Danielle just grunts, seemingly lost in her task, her own body shuddering with the force of your thrusts. The friction inside Danielle is incredible, almost overwhelming. It feels like molten heat, tight and demanding.

Hanni is completely lost to your fingers, her head thrown back, neck arched, moaning your name over and over again, interspersed with incoherent pleas. "Faster... oh god, yes, faster..." You oblige, your fingers blurring inside her, thumb relentless on her clit, feeling the tremors starting deep within her body. She feels so fucking good, so responsive, her wetness seemingly endless. You alternate your attention, one deep thrust into Danielle followed by a faster, harder push of your fingers into Hanni, then she suddenly grabs your wrist, guiding your fingers, pressing them harder against her G-spot. "Right... there! Fuck me with your fingers, goddammit!" she demands. You push harder, deeper, feeling her inner muscles convulse around your digits. Danielle is bucking back against you now with every thrust, meeting your force with her own, her moans becoming deeper, throatier.

She pulls her mouth away from Minji for a second, gasping for air, her face flushed crimson, eyes glazed over. "Fuck... keep going... don't you fucking stop," she pants, looking back at you over her shoulder, her expression pure, unadulterated lust. Minji whimpers at the loss of contact, reaching down blindly as if to pull Danielle back. The room is filled with the sounds of their cries, your own ragged breathing, the wet slap of fucking, the rhythmic creak of the bed. Sweat drips from your forehead, tracing paths down your chest. You keep driving forward, burying yourself in Danielle's heat again and again, while your fingers continue their relentless assault on Hanni, pushing them both higher, deeper into the frenzy.

"Fuck—fuck—your cock’s so deep—" she chokes out, voice cracking around every word, cheek pressed to the mattress as she tries to keep herself steady. But she’s shaking. She’s soaked. Each slam of your hips punches a breath out of her lungs and scrambles the last of her coordination. Her mouth’s right between Minji’s legs, tongue trying to flick and suck at her clit, but she’s sloppy now, moaning too loud, jaw slack, not really able to focus.

"Shit—Danielle," Minji gasps, hips twitching forward, grabbing a fistful of hair, trying to keep her mouth on target. "I need it—don’t stop—" But Danielle just whimpers, licking blindly, overwhelmed, breath hot against Minji’s soaked slit.

To your right, Hanni’s curled beside you, one leg thrown over your thigh, her hips grinding against your fingers like it’s the only thing keeping her sane. Her pussy’s glistening, juices coating your knuckles as you curl two fingers into her, stroking that spot inside her with precision, ruthless in how steady you are. "Fucking—god," she pants, her head thrown back. "You’re gonna make me cum just from your fingers—I’m not kidding—I swear—keep going—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—"

You don’t stop. You press in deeper, scissoring your fingers slightly, flattening them inside her and rubbing hard. You watch her fall apart. She slaps one hand over her mouth and fails to muffle the scream—"F-fuck, I’m cumming—oh god I’m cumming fuck—fuck—fuck—"—her hips bucking hard, pussy clenching tight around your fingers, gushing down your wrist in hot spurts. She thrashes, thighs squeezing shut around your hand, breath caught in her throat until it breaks into a ragged sob of release.

You pull your hand free, sticky and shining, and slap her ass once, making her whimper and twitch. Then you turn back to Danielle.

"Focus," you growl, hands tightening on her hips, guiding her back down into the mattress. She’s collapsed halfway, elbows shaking under her weight, mouth hanging open, spit dripping from her chin. You slam back into her, cock punching deep, and she lets out a wrecked cry.

"A-ahhh—god—please—fuck me harder—I need it harder—please, please, please—"

"You begging for it now?" you grunt, slapping her ass again, watching it jiggle. "You want it faster, Dani? You wanna be fucked dumb in front of your friends?"

"Yes, yes—fuck—I’m so close—I’m not gonna last—" she whines. You grab a fistful of her hair and tug her head up.

"Then earn it. Don’t ignore your friend," you snap, nodding at Minji, who's watching with parted lips, her legs still open, two fingers slowly rubbing her clit while she watches Dani get railed. "Get back to her pussy. She needs you." Danielle gasps, tears in her eyes, but she listens. Her mouth drops between Minji’s thighs again, tongue sloppily lapping at her folds, one hand fumbling between the friend’s legs as she tries to focus through your brutal pace.

Minji moans, high and breathy. "Fuck—Dani—yes, yes just like that—faster—"

You slam into Danielle harder, angle shifting to hit deep, bottoming out with a filthy slap every time your hips crash into her ass. Her pussy clamps around you, fluttering tight, and she cries out around Minji’s clit, still trying to suck while her body melts. Her hand jerks between Minji’s thighs, fingers frantic now, not coordinated, just desperate. Minji lets out a sob, hips bucking forward into Danielle’s mouth, hand flying up to cover her face.

"Oh—fuck—I’m gonna cum—fuck—keep going—don’t stop—Danielle—yes—!"

And it all goes to hell at once. Danielle screams, back arching hard as her orgasm slams through her. She tries to stay upright, but you keep pounding into her, fucking her through it, and she collapses with her face still buried in Minji’s cunt, fingers still moving. Minji bucks against her, gasping, thighs clamping around Dani’s head as she cries out, cumming in tandem.

"Ahhh—ah—fuck—right there! I'm so fucking horny, shit!" Minji’s whole body tightens, legs shaking, face twisting up with ecstasy as she rides Danielle’s fingers, moaning loud and raw. Her pussy drips down Dani’s wrist as she crashes through her climax, her moans rising with each jerk of her hips.

Danielle’s still moaning too, overwhelmed, ruined, your cock still buried inside her. Her thighs are trembling, cunt milking you, breath ragged.

"Fuck—don’t stop—don’t stop—please keep fucking me—" she begs, almost sobbing, cheek to the sheets, body limp except for her ass pushing back on you.

The bed's a fucking mess, pillows shoved to the floor, sheets half-knotted around legs, heat soaked into every crease like the mattress itself is sweating. Your body’s burning, cock still buried inside Danielle’s fluttering cunt, her hips twitching in aftershocks as she rides the final, ragged edge of her orgasm. Her knees are wide, thighs sticky, her whole frame drooped forward, arms barely keeping her up. You slow down, rolling your hips deep and slow now, just enough to milk every last tremble out of her while her walls squeeze you in these lazy, fading pulses.

“Fuuuck,” Dani groans, slumping down with her cheek pressed into the mattress, face turned just enough for you to see the edge of a dumb, dazed grin. Her eyes are glassy, mouth open, a slick trail of drool stretched from her lip to the bed. “I… I don’t even know what dimension I’m in anymore.” She giggles; light, dizzy, totally lost in that giddy cocktail of post-orgasm high and bar-cocktail drunk. Her whole body shakes as she laughs, then sighs like she’s been deflated.

You slide out of her slow, and she whimpers at the drag, her pussy so sensitive she jerks once on instinct before collapsing flat. You lean in, brushing damp hair away from her cheek, and kiss her, soft, messy, her lips parted, her breath still hiccuping as she giggles into your mouth.

“You’re fucking insane,” she murmurs against your lips, eyes fluttering. “Like. You’ve broken parts of my brain. I think I forgot my major.”

You grin and kiss her again, deeper this time, until she moans, then pull back and look over her shoulder where Hanni’s sprawled out watching you both, her hair a tangle, her inner thighs still glistening with the mess you made earlier. She’s on her side now, hand idly toying with her clit while she watches, all flushed and content and still hungry.

But the moment you turn your attention across the bed, Minji’s already sitting up straighter, brushing hair off her collarbones, eyes locked on you. Her lips are still dark with that same lipstick, slightly smudged now, and her thighs glisten faintly from the earlier action. She raises an eyebrow as you meet her gaze, then tilts her head with a sly little smile.

“My turn,” she says simply, like she’s been waiting with this exact line loaded. “Gonna let me ride you?”

You crawl over the bed, over Dani’s spent body, past Hanni’s grinning mouth, and stop in front of Minji. Her breath catches when you lean in and kiss her slow, letting her taste the linger of Danielle’s moans still on your mouth. She kisses back, firmer, confident, a low sound rumbling in her chest as your hand cups her jaw, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.

“You sure?” you murmur against her lips.

She laughs under her breath. “I’ve been wet for you since the airport,” she whispers. “You’re gonna let me fuck myself stupid or what?”

You lie back in the middle of the bed, propped on a few bunched pillows, and your cock’s already thick and heavy, slick from Dani’s orgasm, standing tall against your stomach. Minji doesn’t wait for permission, she climbs over you, slow and deliberate, straddling your hips like she’s done it a dozen times in her head already.

Her body’s gorgeous: tall, legs strong and smooth, breasts swaying slightly with each shift. Her pussy looks perfect, soft lips already glistening as she kneels above you and wraps a hand around your cock, guiding the thick head to her slit. She shudders just from that contact, biting her lip, her eyes fluttering half-shut.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, dragging your tip through her folds, hips rocking teasingly. “You're so fucking thick.”

“Minji,” Hanni calls, breathless from the other side of the bed. She’s giggling now too, watching her friend work your cock like it’s a goddamn delicacy. “Wait till he’s inside. That first stretch? Fuuuck.”

Minji shoots her a smirk, then lowers herself slow, her pussy parting around your head with slick, obscene resistance. “Jesus,” she breathes, nails digging into your chest. “Hanni wasn’t kidding. You’re huge. I can feel you in my fucking lungs.”

She sinks further, inch by inch, body tensing every time your cock stretches her wider. Her mouth falls open as she drops her hips that last inch, fully seating herself on you with a stuttering gasp.

“Oh my god,” she moans, rocking forward instinctively, trying to breathe through the sudden full-body shock of being stretched so deep. “No wonder she’s always so smug after hooking up with you.”

Your hands settle on her waist, thumbs stroking her flushed skin as she starts moving—slow, careful rolls of her hips at first, working herself open around your cock. Her brows knit together, jaw slack, riding the edge between discomfort and overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s it,” you murmur, dragging your hands up her sides. “Take what you want, Minji. Fucking use me.”

She moans again, louder this time, starting to ride properly now—bouncing with more rhythm, her thighs flexing, tits jiggling with every downstroke. You groan, letting her set the pace, feeling how tight and warm and wet she is wrapped around you.

Across the mattress, Hanni and Danielle have gravitated toward each other. Hanni climbs into Dani’s lap, straddling her thigh and tugging her into a kiss. Danielle, still fucked out and giggling, moans as Hanni’s mouth crushes against hers. Their bodies grind together slow, Hanni humping Dani’s thigh, both of them breathless, lost in the press of lips and the slippery rub of skin on skin.

“Your pussy still twitching, huh?” Hanni purrs into Danielle’s mouth, licking the corner of her lips.

“Mmhmm,” Dani hums, pulling Hanni tighter against her. “But you’re worse. You’re dripping, babe.”

Their hands disappear between each other’s thighs, working slow and sloppy while Minji rides you harder now, both hands on your chest for leverage.

“Oh—fucking—fuck—” she gasps, voice pitching higher every time she bottoms out. “It’s too good—I can’t— I get it now, I get why she’s obsessed—fuck—this cock’s gonna ruin me—”

And you’re still just lying there, letting her take what she needs, eyes flicking between the two girls grinding against each other and Minji’s flushed, desperate face as she bounces faster, cunt slapping down onto your hips with wet, hungry sounds that echo under the moans. Her thighs tremble, sweat dotting her collarbone, hair clinging to her cheeks as she loses her rhythm for a second and drops down hard, bottoming out and grinding herself there, desperate for more friction. Her eyes roll up slightly, fingers clawing at your chest.

“Don’t stop me,” she begs, voice cracking. “I’m gonna fucking cum like this—I swear—I can’t hold it—”

Hanni and Dani’s moans rise in tandem, their fingers flicking across each other’s clits, messy and fast now, lips locked, hands tangled in hair.

You're surrounded, soaked in it—girls panting and moaning, cunt tightening around your cock, legs shaking. Minji’s voice goes high and breathless as she stutters, hips jerking.

She’s close, you can tell—her body’s right on that trembling edge, cunt spasming tight around your cock every time her hips slam down—but she’s holding herself back, grinding harder like she wants it to hurt a little, like she needs that something more to tip her over. Sweat drips down her spine, her back arched, lips parted around a panting whimper. Her fingers dig into your chest like she’s anchoring herself to reality, and her eyes stay fixed on yours, burning through the low amber light of the fucked-out room.

Her pace shifts. Not slower. Not faster. Just... different. Focused. Controlled. Her thighs flex, bouncing with steady purpose, her rhythm so exact you can feel your cock stretching her perfectly on every single roll of her hips. She’s fucking herself into a stupor, breath coming ragged now, and her voice shakes as she leans forward a little, grinding deeper.

“Choke me,” she breathes, quiet but absolutely clear.

You blink up at her, heart kicking once hard in your chest. And then you’re moving, hands sliding up her arms, over the sweat-slicked plane of her neck. You wrap your fingers around her throat and squeeze—not too hard at first, just enough pressure to make her gasp and rock harder.

Her reaction is instant.

“Oh my god,” she chokes out, eyes fluttering, lips twitching into this crooked, dirty grin. “Fuck—yes. Like that—more—don’t hold back—”

You squeeze again, harder this time, and her pussy clamps down on your cock like a fucking vice. Her whole body jolts forward, hair falling into her face, mouth open in a half-scream, half-moan as she keeps riding you through it. The weight of your grip around her throat sends her spiraling—head tipping back, breath coming in short bursts, cunt dripping down your length. Right beside you, a ripple of giggles breaks out—Hanni and Danielle tangled together like drunk, horny vines. Hanni’s on top, legs locked, slick skin sliding. Dani’s thigh is jammed between Hanni’s, and they’re grinding against each other, messy and frantic, watching you and Minji like it’s the best fucking show they’ve ever seen.

“Look at her,” Hanni laughs, breathless, one arm around Dani’s waist as they rock together. “She’s such a little freak, huh?”

Danielle moans, smiling, her hand gripping Hanni’s ass as she bucks against her. “Fuck, yeah. That’s so hot. Look at her face—look how she takes it—ugh, I love this group.”

Minji’s smiling too now, delirious with it, red in the face from the pressure and the pounding. “They’re watching,” she gasps, like it turns her on even more. “They’re fucking watching me like a porn—fuck!—like a fucking slut—”

You keep one hand around her throat and drag the other down, sliding hard across her cheek. The slap cracks through the room.

Minji jolts, gasping, her eyes wide and shining. She pauses—just for a second—then smiles. It’s crooked and hot and wild, like you just unlocked some part of her she doesn’t show most people.

“Again,” she breathes, biting her lip. “Slap me again.”

You do. This time louder. Her head whips a little with the force, her hair flying loose around her face. Her thighs clamp down tighter around your waist. Her pussy floods your cock.

“Fuuuck,” Danielle moans, grinding harder against Hanni. “God, that’s so hot. Minji, baby, you’re killing me right now.”

“Don’t stop,” Hanni pants, rocking her hips hard against Danielle’s, wet friction loud and shameless. “Fucking wreck her, babe. She loves it—look at her—she’s drooling.”

Minji really is. Her chin’s slick, her mouth open, this desperate, fucked-out expression carved into her features like you’ve turned her into someone else entirely. She’s bouncing harder now, breath knocked out of her with each slap of your hips, moaning louder every time your hand hits her cheek.

“Harder—fuck me harder,” she snarls, voice raw, throat bruised under your grip. “Slap me again—do it—do it!”

Another slap. Another gasp. Another roll of her hips, harder than the last. Your cock is buried deep in her, stretching her open, her clit grinding against your pelvis every time she sinks down. She’s dripping, moaning, riding like a demon, chasing something violent.

You glance over—Hanni’s got Dani on her back now, one leg hooked over her shoulder, both of them flushed and sticky, fingers tangled in hair, lips swollen from kissing. They’re still scissoring, sloppier now, hips rocking, thighs trembling.

“Minji’s the star tonight,” Hanni pants, glancing over at you with that fox-smirk that always means she’s up to no good. “God, look at her ride that cock—like she’s starving.”

“I wanna try it next,” Dani mumbles between kisses. “Like, right after. While it’s still all soaked in her mess.”

Hanni giggles, sliding down Dani’s body and latching onto her nipple, teeth grazing it just enough to make Dani yelp and arch up. “Greedy bitch,” she teases, “but after Minji it's my turn.”

Minji hears all of it. She moans, louder now, her pace going ragged.

“Y-you hear that?” she gasps, hands pressing to your chest for balance as she keeps riding, hair flying in her face. “They want your cock next. Right after I break it.” You squeeze her throat again, watching her eyes roll back, then slap her one more time, hard. She’s moaning with every thrust, every slap, the sound messy, guttural, losing the rhythm of it as pleasure cracks her composure.

She’s grinding hard now, not even bouncing—just trying to mash her clit against your pelvis with these desperate, dragging circles, her pussy squeezing your cock with every motion like her body’s trying to pull you deeper, trying to milk something out of you she hasn’t earned yet. Her eyes catch yours, glazed and raw, and she swallows hard like she can barely keep it together.

“Call me a whore,” she gasps suddenly. “Fuck—say it—call me your little whore.”

Your hands slide up her thighs, over her hips, fingers sinking into the curve of her waist as you thrust up once, hard, just to feel how tight she clutches you when she gasps.

“You’re a fucking whore,” you growl, eyes locked on hers. “A cock-drunk, needy little whore riding like your life depends on it.”

She shudders, moaning loud, mouth dropping open like the words themselves fucked her.

“F-fuck, yes,” she breathes, “that’s it—that’s what I needed—fuck me—break me—”

She leans down, chest pressed to yours, and kisses you, mouth hot and wet and shaking. Her lips move against yours, but she’s still whispering between the kisses, frantic.

“Please make me cum—please—I need it so bad—just fucking take it—”

You sit up under her, strong arms locking around her back, rolling her onto the mattress without pulling out. Your bodies flip, her thighs falling open under you, legs spread wide as you slam back in and start pounding her—deep, fast, merciless.

Minji screams, nails clawing at your back, her body rocking with the force of your thrusts. “Oh my god—oh my fucking god—yes—yes, don’t stop—don’t stop!”

You don’t. You hammer into her, hips slapping against the backs of her thighs, cock spearing into her soaked, swollen pussy until she’s drooling onto her own chin, shaking under you, her moans turning to broken sobs of pleasure.

“Fuck, look at her,” Hanni laughs, breathless, watching with wild eyes from where she’s still wrapped around Dani. “Minji’s such a fucking slut right now—so perfect!”

Danielle’s moaning too, her fingers tangled in Hanni’s hair, one leg hooked around Hanni’s waist. Her eyes are locked on the way your hips crash into Minji’s, the way her pussy’s clenching and dripping around your cock with every brutal thrust.

“I’m gonna cum just watching this,” Dani groans. “God, the way he’s fucking her—fuck—fuck, it’s so hot—”

Then Hanni leans over, and suddenly spit on Minji's chest, you quickly spread the saliva across her breasts.

“Cum for him, you dirty slut,” Hanni growls, breath panting against Dani’s neck. “Show us how much of a whore you really are.”

Minji moans louder as she feels her climax approaching, legs locking around your waist.

“I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna fucking cum—don’t stop—don’t stop—break my pussy!”

“Cum on my cock,” you grunt, one hand fisting in her hair, dragging her head back to stare at you. “Fucking soak me, slut—show them how filthy you are—”

Danielle’s shaking, Hanni clutching her tight. They’re grinding hard, kissing messy, watching with wide eyes, their fingers slick between each other’s legs.

Minji throws her head back, screaming now, her voice raw and shaking.

“i’m—fuck—i’m cumming—cumming on your cock—FUCK—”

Her pussy clamps down so hard it feels like she’s trying to crush your cock, her whole body locking up under you as she cums with a high, shattering scream. Her legs kick, back arching, hips jerking uncontrollably while the orgasm rips through her. She’s gushing, soaking your thighs, her nails digging bloody little half-moons into your back as her climax pulses again and again.

Dani cries out right after, burying her face in Hanni’s neck, trembling violently as she cums from the overload, from watching, from the friction of Hanni’s thigh. Hanni moans with her, shuddering, her fingers a blur on her clit as she tips over too, riding it out pressed tight to Dani’s writhing body.

The room’s just noise and panting now. Bodies twitching. Sheets soaked. Minji clinging to you, shaking, still twitching from the aftershocks as you ease the rhythm, your cock still buried deep.

She blinks up at you, dazed, lips parted in a wrecked little smile.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes. “That was… I’ve never cum like that. That was insane.”

You smile down at her, brushing sweat-slick hair away from her face, and kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re amazing,” you whisper.

She grins back, breathless, totally fucked-out. “No, you’re amazing.”

Then, suddenly, the mattress dips with sudden weight—Hanni and Danielle throw themselves between you two like kids cannonballing into a pillow fort, squealing with laughter, bare skin slapping bare skin, limbs everywhere. The bed bounces, a tangle of heat and sweat and giggles. Minji yelps when Hanni’s ass lands half on her thigh, still sensitive and overstimmed, but she’s laughing too, breathless and glassy-eyed, her body so limp she can barely squirm.

“Fucking hell,” Dani gasps, rolling onto her side and flopping over Minji, one hand resting lazily on your thigh. “I came so hard just watching you get fucked like that.”

Minji whines from under her, flinching a little, but nods hard. “I think I died for a second. Like actual blackout, heart-stopping sex-death.” She exhales sharp through her nose, a breathless chuckle buried in the sound. “Worth it.”

Then Hanni slides up, straddling your hips with zero hesitation, her knees pinning you to the sheets as her still-slick thighs nestle against your waist. Her face is flushed, her whole body glowing, shining under the haze of sweat and soft lamplight. She looks ecstatic, and a little drunk in the most adorable, chaotic way. Her bangs are damp, sticking to her forehead, and she’s got that grin spreading across her face like it’s about to consume the whole room.

“I told you bitches,” Hanni says, proud as hell, glancing down at Minji and Dani with a theatrical flick of her head. “Wasn’t it a great fucking idea to bring him?”

Minji, still flat on her back, groans out a slow “Yes,” dragging the syllable like she’s still processing the concept of words.

Danielle raises a hand like she’s making a toast, except it’s just a floppy little wave. “Seconded. Fuck, I vote he comes on every vacation now.”

“All in favor?” Hanni smirks, her hands already tracing slow circles on your chest.

All three girls mumble some variation of “Yes,” “Fuck yes,” “Holy shit yes,” and “Best decision ever,” their voices tangled with giggles and half-moan whimpers. Hanni laughs, pleased with herself, rocking her hips once against you just to feel your cock press between her thighs.

“Relaxation achieved,” Minji murmurs.

“Ten outta ten stress relief,” Dani adds, now curled sideways into Minji’s body, pressing soft kisses under her jaw, lazy little nuzzles full of leftover lust.

Hanni leans forward and kisses you hard. She tastes like sweat, rum, the faint tang of her own arousal. Her lips are needy, tongue teasing, confident in a way that hits different now, knowing she’s been watching you wreck her friends all night.

“You’ve been saving some for me, right?” she whispers into your mouth, grinding her hips once to feel the drag of your cock against her pussy lips. She’s soaked already, slick enough that even that little motion has your length sliding up between her folds, warm and sticky. She ruts against it like she’s starving. “I better not be last on the rotation every time,” she mutters, her tone teasing, breath quickening.

You grab her hips, flip her onto her back without warning, and she squeals with laughter, legs splaying open instantly. Her pussy’s dripping, lips spread already, folds glistening under the light like she’s been ready for hours. She spreads her legs wider, knees bent up, feet flat on the mattress.

“Fuck,” you murmur, staring down at her, cock twitching. “You’re soaked.”

“Gee,” Hanni laughs breathlessly, reaching between her legs and spreading herself open with two fingers, hips rolling with impatience. “What can I say? Your fingers are magical. And maybe watching my friends get ruined by you for twenty minutes straight made me a little wet too.”

Danielle groans softly at that, and when you glance to the side, she’s leaning over Minji, kissing her slow and deep again. Their bodies are tangled now, legs weaving together, the soft press of tits and lips and sticky thighs. Dani’s hand is already slipping down Minji’s belly, sliding between her legs again.

But your focus is all Hanni. She looks fucking perfect laid out like this: cheeks flushed, eyes wild, mouth curved into that too-clever smirk as her fingers drift down her stomach, stopping just shy of her clit. Her other hand strokes along your abs, playful, lazy, guiding your cock into position.

You don’t slide in. Not yet. You hold your cock by the base, tapping the head lightly against her entrance. Her whole body jolts. She gasps, writhes, shoves her hips up to chase it, but you pull back, smacking it again. Wet, sloppy, loud against her cunt.

“F-fuck,” she stammers. “Don’t tease me, I’ll bite.”

You grin. Do it again. She whines, arching her back now, her chest heaving as the head of your cock slaps against her clit once, then again.

“I want it,” she gasps, needy. “I want your cock, please—I’ve been waiting—fuck, just give it to me—”

“You’re sure?” you murmur, teasing the head just barely inside her now, watching her hole flutter.

“Fuck you,” she laughs breathlessly, grabbing your arms. “Yes. Yes yes yes! shut up and fuck me already!”

You thrust.

She screams.

“Ohh my GOD—” she wails, her legs wrapping tight around your waist as your cock plunges into her. She’s tight and wet and so warm, her walls clenching around you like her pussy’s been sculpted for this exact moment. She grabs your shoulders, nails digging in, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she gasps, “Why is it so big—why do you feel so fucking good—”

You start to move, hips rolling deep, then harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks her whole body against the bed. Her tits bounce with every thrust, her arms flailing slightly before settling around your neck, clinging on like she’s holding on for dear life.

“Oh my god, oh my god—don’t stop,” she babbles, her head tipping back into the sheets, voice cracking. “That’s it, that’s it—fuck me just like that— ruin my pussy—break it—”

To your left, Dani’s moaning again, grinding against Minji’s thigh, her lips locked with hers in another sloppy kiss. “She’s so fucking loud,” Minji mutters between kisses, smirking against Dani’s mouth.

“She’s so fucking hot,” Dani whispers back. “You see her tits? Fuck, I’d cum just watching her ride a pillow—look at her take that cock.”

Minji laughs, biting Dani’s lower lip. “Jealous?”

“A little,” Dani admits, shivering. “I wanna eat it after he cums in her. Wanna taste it leaking out.”

Hanni hears them. She fucking hears them.

Her eyes fly open, head snapping toward them, mouth open in shock and lust.

“Y-you bitches,” she moans, “talking about licking my pussy while I’m getting wrecked—what the fuck—”

Minji giggles, still breathless. “You like it?”

“I love it—” Hanni screams, hips bucking up to meet your thrusts. “I love being used—I love being watched—I love this cock—”

You fuck her harder. The whole bed shakes. Her moans turn to sobs.

Hanni's body is shaking beneath you, drenched in sweat, soaked between the thighs, every thrust of your cock squelching loud and obscene inside her dripping cunt. She's gripping the sheets now, knuckles pale, nails curled into the fabric like she's hanging on for her fucking life. Her tits bounce with each brutal drive of your hips, hair clinging to her forehead, lips swollen and spit-slick. Her moans are higher now, sharp and stuttering, her head tossing back against the mattress like she's trying to pull oxygen out of the ceiling.

And then she gasps it out—hoarse, frantic, barely audible over her own breathless cries:

“Choke me.”

Your eyes snap down to hers. She’s flushed and wild-eyed, panting, her legs squeezing around your waist like she’s trying to lock you in.

“Choke me,” she begs again, voice cracking. “Like you did to Minji—don’t stop fucking me—just do it, please.”

You don’t hesitate. You slide your hand up her throat, fingers wrapping snug around her neck, feeling the slick pulse of her heartbeat jump against your palm. You squeeze, not too hard, just enough to tilt her eyes up into that fluttery haze, to make her mouth fall open as her breath catches. You don’t slow your hips for a second. You fuck her through it—hard, deep, fast—your cock pounding into her cunt with relentless, savage rhythm. She's wetter than ever, her pussy creamy now, coating your shaft in a sticky mess that smears across her inner thighs, dripping down to stain the sheets.

Hanni's moaning uncontrollably, every thrust driving a noise out of her throat that’s part whimper, part scream, part this fucked-up little giggle, like she’s drunk off the whole experience. Her pupils are huge, mouth open, body writhing beneath you, and she’s so far gone she doesn’t even notice Dani crawling up beside her until cool fingers brush between her legs.

“Sensitive, huh?” Dani murmurs, breath warm against Hanni’s cheek, her hand sliding casually between her thighs. Two fingers find her clit, swollen, throbbing, and the second Dani touches it, Hanni shrieks.

“Fuuuck—Jesus, Dani—don’t—no wait—yes—”

You don’t let up on her throat. Her eyes roll back as you thrust harder, your hips slapping against hers while Dani circles her clit with slow, deliberate cruelty, watching her best friend unravel with a smirk on her lips.

“She’s losing it,” Minji says from the other side, grinning as she straddles Hanni’s arm. She leans in close. “Open your mouth, Han.”

Hanni’s tongue slips out instantly, lips parted, slack with submission.

Minji spits.

A thick, glistening string lands directly on her tongue, messy and wet. Hanni moans around it, head swimming, throat still tight in your grip, the added weight of saliva pushing her even further into that blissed-out place where everything feels too much and not enough at once.

Minji doesn’t even wait. She grabs Hanni’s face and kisses her, hard, filthy, tongue sliding deep, their moans tangled and breathless. Hanni groans into it, writhing between both girls and your cock like she doesn’t know who to fuck first. She’s a mess, her thighs trembling, clit twitching under Dani’s fingers, and every time your cock slams into her, her pussy gets wetter, creamier, soaking your balls in hot slick.

“She’s gonna cum,” Dani whispers, breath hitching as she teases Hanni’s clit harder now, pressing down just right. “Feel that twitch? She's fucking close.”

“She’s right,” Minji breathes against Hanni’s mouth. “Come on, Han. Let it go. Cum on that cock.”

Hanni's voice is wrecked now, thin and broken and so needy. “Please—please don’t stop—don’t stop—I’m close—I’m fucking cumming—”

You growl into her ear, choking her just a little harder. “Cum on my cock, Hanni. Let me feel that pussy explode. You want that? You wanna cream all over me like a filthy little toy?”

She nods frantically, can’t speak, her mouth open in a wordless sob, Dani’s fingers working her clit with practiced cruelty.

“Cum for him,” Minji hisses. “Be good and fucking cum—”

And Hanni breaks.

Her back arches like she’s being electrocuted, legs clamping around your waist, mouth dropping open in a scream that rips through the whole room. Her pussy clamps down on your cock so hard it’s like her body’s trying to hold you hostage, waves of thick, wet pleasure rolling through her. She cums hard, sobbing out her orgasm, twitching with every thrust as you keep fucking her through it, her cream pouring out of her, mess coating your cock, her thighs and the sheets under her ass.

She doesn't stop trembling. Doesn’t stop moaning. And you don’t stop fucking her.

Hanni’s still pulsing around you when the next wave hits. You haven’t let up, not for a second, driving into her with rhythmic, punishing strokes that slap skin on skin, each one dragging out another broken moan from her wrecked throat. She’s quivering under you, thighs wide open, one hand curled helplessly in the sheets while the other claws at Dani’s wrist where her fingers haven’t stopped circling her clit. Minji’s straddled across Hanni’s chest now, hands massaging her tits, thumbs brushing over her rock-hard nipples, leaning down to whisper filth directly into her ear as the whole bed shakes with the force of your fucking.

“You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” Minji teases, breath hot against her cheek. “Gonna squirt all over him this time, huh? Gonna make a goddamn mess, baby.”

The second orgasm hits her like a seizure. Hanni's whole body jolts under you, nails raking down your back as her thighs clamp tight around your waist, hips bucking wildly against your thrusts. Her head snaps back against the pillows, mouth falling open in a ragged, “Oh my fuck—I’m cumming again!” It comes out broken, strangled, voice cracking under the weight of it. She doesn’t even make it halfway through the sentence before she starts squirting, pussy gushing around your cock in warm, wet pulses. You feel the spray splash your stomach, your thighs, her own trembling legs soaked through as the sheets go from damp to absolutely flooded. Her eyes roll up, half-lidded and glassy, lips twitching like she’s trying to form another word but all that comes out is a stuttering,

And you keep fucking her through it. Not slowing down, not backing off, pistoning your hips like you’re chasing the end of her orgasm with your cock, hitting her soaked, clenching walls again and again and again. The way she tightens around you now, fluttering with overstimulation, it’s so wet, so fucking wet, the friction slick and obscene, your skin smacking into hers with loud, slappy sounds that echo off the walls. Her whole body is twitching, like you’ve fried her circuits.

Danielle is still there, hand locked between Hanni’s trembling thighs, rubbing tight little circles on her clit with her middle finger. "That's it baby, let it out—fuck, look at you," she breathes, her face flushed, biting her bottom lip as she watches Hanni writhe under the three of you, caught in some endless high.

Minji’s on the other side, leaned over, one hand cupping Hanni’s tit like it belongs to her, squeezing gently as her mouth latches onto the other. You catch the way her cheeks hollow, tongue flicking over Hanni’s nipple as she sucks and hums, her free hand petting down Hanni’s thigh like she’s trying to soothe her through the intensity. Hanni can’t even form words anymore, she just lets out this strangled, sobbing Hhhhnnnn- as her whole body spasms through another round of squirting.

You barely register the groan that slips out of your throat, deep and thick and right from your gut. Her pussy is squeezing the cum out of you, she’s wringing you dry just by twitching on your dick, and you can feel it boiling up in your spine, your balls drawing up tight, the edge rushing you like a freight train.

“I’m gonna cum—” you grunt, head dropping against Hanni’s shoulder, barely managing to hold yourself up on shaking arms.

Danielle doesn’t even hesitate. “In her,” she says immediately, low and breathless, her fingers never stopping. “Fuck, cum in her, she needs it—just look at her—”

“She’s on the pill,” Minji gasps, licking a line across Hanni’s tit. “She told us. Do it. Fill her the fuck up—”

Hanni nods frantically beneath you, her thighs still locked around you, dragging you deeper. “Please—please cum inside me—fuck—I want it—”

You snap.

The orgasm rips through you so hard your whole body shudders, hips jerking as your cock throbs inside her, buried to the base. You swear out loud as the first spurt of cum floods into her, thick and hot, coating her insides. She gasps like she feels every pulse of it, her pussy clenching greedily around your cock. Another spurt, and another, and another, so much cum you can feel it pooling deep inside her, coating her walls, no resistance at all, just warmth and wetness and her moaning like it’s the best thing she’s ever felt.

“Mmm—yes yes yes—fuck me full,” she babbles, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, her whole body shaking under you. “God—it’s so warm—you’re cumming so much—feels so good… feels so fucking good, babe.”

You collapse against her for a second, chest heaving, forehead resting in the crook of her neck, cock still twitching inside her. You can feel how full she is. You don’t even need to pull out to know you’ve filled her past capacity.

And when you do ease back, sliding out slow with a wet noise that makes Hanni gasp and twitch, the mess you’ve made is instantly obvious. Your cum spills out of her immediately, a thick, creamy line drooling down the split of her lips, smearing across her inner thighs and the ruined sheets below. She whimpers at the loss of you, hips instinctively lifting like her pussy is begging to stay full.

But Danielle and Minji aren’t letting it go to waste.

“Holy shit,” Danielle mutters, eyes glued to the way your cum leaks from her. “Look at that—fucking flooded her.” She doesn’t wait. She leans down, dragging her tongue from Hanni’s slit all the way up to her clit in one long, slow, filthy lick, groaning around the taste. “Mmmff—fuck, that’s good…”

Minji’s already there beside her, bracing one hand on Hanni’s thigh as she leans in from the opposite side. “Save some for me,” she says, then pushes her face into the mess, licking greedily at the slick between Hanni’s folds, tongue flicking in quick, deliberate strokes that make Hanni squeal, hips jerking helplessly. “Oh my god—I can’t—”

Her pussy’s too sensitive now—every touch makes her flinch and whine, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. But she doesn’t tell them to stop. Her hands are fisted in the sheets, pulling tight as she moans through it, a whimpery, overwhelmed sound. “F-fuck—feels—too good, oh my god—fuck—Minji, Dani—” She writhes as their mouths keep working her, slurping the mixture of cum and slick straight from her pussy.

Danielle’s moaning into it, low and needy, like just tasting it is enough to get her off. Her tongue circles Hanni’s clit with practiced precision while Minji focuses lower, licking at your cum as it seeps out in slow, obscene dribbles. Every now and then they pause to kiss each other, mouths shiny and sticky with the mix, tongues sliding together, moaning softly into each other like they’re drunk on it.

And you? You’re leaning back on your knees, dick still half-hard and twitching as you watch it all. Completely transfixed. The scene in front of you is the filthiest, hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Your cum, their mouths, her pussy still fluttering and leaking, Hanni's body jerking with aftershocks, eyes glassy and half-lidded as she pants like she just ran a marathon. The way Danielle and Minji trade licks and moans like it’s the best dessert they’ve ever tasted.

They kiss again, deeper this time, cum-slick lips meeting with soft sounds, tongues tangled, and then Danielle leans down to kiss Hanni, pressing their mouths together gently, almost sweet despite the filth surrounding them. Minji follows, kissing along Hanni’s jaw, then catching her lips in another soft, slow kiss, her hand stroking Hanni’s side like she’s trying to comfort her back down from the high.

Hanni’s whimpering into their mouths, too overstimulated to return the kisses properly but too wrecked to stop them. Her whole body glows, skin flushed, damp with sweat and sex, her thighs still trembling where they’re spread wide on the soaked mattress. Her lips part against Danielle’s and Minji’s in turn, gasping faint little sounds into each kiss, shivering with every touch like her body’s still vibrating with afterglow.

You slide into the warm space between the tangled pile of girls, fitting yourself into the curve of Danielle's back while Minji is practically draped over Hanni’s front. You're all slick, sticky, and utterly spent. Hanni stirs slightly, letting out a long, contented sigh without opening her eyes. "Mmm," she murmurs drowsily. "This... this is life." Minji makes a soft sound of agreement against Hanni's shoulder. "Best spring break," she mumbles, her words slightly slurred. "Already the best." Danielle shifts slightly and props her head up on her hand to look over at you and Hanni. "Seriously," she whispers, “this is... epic. We totally need to remember this." Suddenly, her eyes light up with a typically Danielle-esque, slightly chaotic idea.

"Wait! Selfie!" Before anyone can protest, she's reaching carefully for her phone, which somehow ended up tangled in the sheets near the edge of the bed. She fumbles with it for a moment, squinting at the screen in the dim light filtering from the hallway. "Okay, everyone look... wrecked!" she instructs, holding the phone at arm's length, angling it to capture the messy, exhausted pile of naked bodies. You manage a weak smile. Hanni cracks open one eye, peering suspiciously at the phone. Minji is barely conscious. Danielle snaps a quick picture, the flash momentarily illuminating flushed faces, tangled limbs, messy hair, and the general beautiful disaster zone of the bed.

"Perfect," Danielle declares, reviewing the shot with a satisfied smirk. "Definitely one for the... private collection." Hanni yawns hugely. "You better not be putting that on your OnlyFans, Dani," she mumbles. Danielle laughs softly. "Chill, Han! God no. This one's just for us. A little souvenir of maximum stress relief achieved."

You blink, processing that. "Wait, you have an OnlyFans?" you ask, genuinely surprised again. Danielle grins, completely unbothered. "Uh, yeah? Started it last year. Pays way better than that shitty campus bookstore job." She shrugs. "It's totally anonymous, though. No face, mostly just artsy body shots, feet pics... you know the drill. Helps pay for tuition. And, uh, ridiculously fun spring break trips." She winks. Hanni lets out another enormous yawn, snuggling closer to you. "Okay, fun talk later," she murmurs, her eyes already closed again. "So tired. Need... shower. Sleep. In that order."

Danielle nods. "Yeah, probably a good call. I feel like I ran a marathon." Minji makes a noise of agreement, already half-asleep again. Slowly, reluctantly, the cuddle pile disbands.

Showers are taken, brief and functional this time, washing away the lingering stickiness. Towels are wrapped, weary goodnights are exchanged, and everyone retreats to their respective rooms (or, in your and Hanni's case, collapses back onto the now slightly less chaotic bed, with new sheets, of course). Sleep claims you almost instantly, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless, and much-needed oblivion.

—

The next morning arrives with the subtlety of a jackhammer inside your skull. Your mouth feels like the bottom of a birdcage, and a vicious migraine is pounding behind your eyes. Fuck, that cheap tequila and those endless cocktails definitely caught up with you. You groan, rolling over carefully, and realize the other side of the bed is empty. Hanni's gone. The sheets beside you are cool. You glance down at yourself; yep, still completely naked. Clearly, exhaustion trumped any thoughts of pajamas last night. Hauling yourself upright feels like a monumental effort. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, your head protesting violently. Clothes. Need clothes. You find your shorts and a t-shirt from yesterday crumpled on the floor and pull them on, feeling a little more human.

Leaving the relative darkness of the bedroom, you venture out into the main living area, squinting against the bright daylight flooding in from the balcony. Danielle is sitting at the kitchen counter, slowly sipping from a large mug, looking surprisingly put-together despite the previous night's debauchery. Her hair is damp, and she’s wearing fresh shorts and a tank top.

"Morning, sunshine," she greets you, her voice quiet, sympathetic. "Rough night?"

You grunt in response, shuffling towards the counter. "Something like that. Migraine from hell."

She pushes a mug towards you. "Figured. Made coffee. Black and strong. Should help."

You take it gratefully, the warmth seeping into your hands, the bitter aroma promising some relief. "Thanks, Dani. You're a lifesaver. Where's, uh... everyone else?" Danielle takes another sip of her coffee. "Hanni and Minji woke up disgustingly early. Said something about wanting to hit that little boutique we saw yesterday before it got crowded. Apparently, Minji spotted a dress she 'absolutely needed'." She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "I told them they were insane, but you know Hanni when she gets an idea. I was still half-dead, so I stayed."

You nod, taking a cautious sip of the hot coffee. It scalds your tongue but feels necessary. "Makes sense," you manage. You lean against the counter, the events of the previous night slowly filtering back through the hangover haze. "So, uh," you start, feeling slightly awkward bringing it up in the harsh light of day, "OnlyFans, huh? Still kinda surprised." Danielle just shrugs, swirling her coffee. "Hey, gotta pay the bills, right? College ain't cheap, and honestly? It's kinda empowering sometimes. Plus, like I said, totally anonymous. No one I know knows it's me. It's just... content." She gives you a small smile. "Helps pay for fun shit like this trip, too. Worth it."

You finish your coffee, the caffeine slowly starting to chip away at the edges of the migraine. "So, what's the plan for today? Just wait for them to get back?" Danielle sets her mug down. "Actually," she says, turning on her stool to face you fully. "I already have plans. And I kinda need your help." You raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's up?" She leans forward slightly. "Remember I told you about my OF? Well, I need new content. And while researching stuff to do here, I found this amazing little beach, super secluded, like, you gotta hike a bit to get there? Supposedly the lighting in the late morning is incredible." She pauses, looking at you expectantly. "And?" you prompt. "And," she continues, a slow smirk spreading across her face, "I need a photographer. Someone I trust. Someone who... appreciates the subject matter." She holds your gaze. "Interested in helping a girl out?"

The implication is clear. A secluded beach, just the two of you, and she needs photos for her OnlyFans. You think about it for a second. It sounds incredibly daring, potentially awkward, but also... intriguing. And she did seem pretty convinced last night you could 'handle the workload'. "Okay," you say slowly. "Yeah, okay. I can play photographer. As long as it's really secluded." Danielle beams. "Perfect! Trust me, it is. I'll grab my phone. You can have breakfast on the way. Let's go."

—

True to her word, the hike isn't trivial, involving a winding path down a jungle-covered hillside, but the destination is worth it. It’s a small cove, maybe fifty yards across, bookended by dramatic volcanic rocks, with fine white sand and impossibly clear turquoise water. And most importantly, it's completely empty. Just you, Danielle, and the sound of the gentle waves.

"See?" Danielle says triumphantly, gesturing around. "Told you. Totally private." She drops her beach bag onto the sand. "Okay, so here's the deal," she says, turning back to you, suddenly all business. "These pics are definitely for the site. Which means... no bikini." She meets your eyes, gauging your reaction. "You cool with that? Just shooting me... all natural?" You swallow, feeling a familiar heat stir despite the lingering hangover. It's ballsy as hell, but she seems completely confident, and the setting is undeniably private. "Yeah, Dani," you manage. "I'm cool with it. Whatever you need." Her professional demeanor cracks slightly, replaced by a genuinely pleased smile. "Awesome. Okay then." She reaches for the hem of her tank top. "Let's make some art." She hands you her phone, then, without further ceremony, she pulls off her top, then quickly shimmies out of her shorts and panties, leaving them in a small pile on the sand.

She stands before you completely naked, bathed in the bright Caribbean sun, her toned, athletic body looking even more incredible than it did last night. She runs a hand through her long hair, taking a deep breath, then strikes a pose, looking out towards the ocean. "Okay, photographer," she says, glancing back at you over her shoulder, a playful smirk on her lips. "Do your thing."

You lift the phone, centering Danielle in the frame. Even through the small screen, she looks incredible. The bright Caribbean sun highlights every curve, every plane of her toned body. The turquoise water and white sand create a perfect, almost impossibly vibrant backdrop. "Alright," you call out, trying to sound professional despite the slight tremor in your hand, "Hold that pose. Perfect." Click. The first shot is captured. Danielle flows smoothly into another pose, turning slightly, tilting her head back to catch the sun. Click. She's a natural. Not just comfortable naked, but seemingly energized by it, owning the space, owning her body. You start directing her a little more, moving around to get different angles. "Okay, walk towards the water slowly," you suggest. She obeys, her tight ass flexing with each step as she walks away from you towards the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

You snap several shots of her back, the curve of her spine, the way the sunlight kisses her shoulders. "Stop there," you call out when the water is just swirling around her ankles. "Turn back towards me." She does. The water sparkles around her feet. Click. Click.

"How about by those rocks?" she suggests, pointing towards a cluster of dark volcanic boulders at one end of the cove. "Yeah, good idea." You follow her as she makes her way over, her bare feet sinking slightly into the wet sand. She leans against one of the larger rocks, the dark, rough texture contrasting sharply with her smooth, pale skin. She tries different poses; leaning back casually, arching her back slightly, running a hand slowly down her own flat stomach, tracing the line of her incredible abs. You capture it all, zooming in sometimes to focus on the details, the way a drop of water traces a path down her side, the taut curve of her small, perky breast, the intense look in her eyes. She's ridiculously photogenic; the camera absolutely loves her.

Every angle seems to work, every casual movement looks like a deliberately sexy pose. And yeah, she's hot as absolute hell. Seeing her like this, completely bare, owning her sexuality so confidently for her 'work', is incredibly arousing, hangover be damned. You take shot after shot, finding interesting angles, playing with the light and shadows created by the rocks. She lies down on the warm sand near the water's edge, letting the shallow waves wash over her legs, arching her back, pushing her breasts towards the sun. You get low, capturing the image from just above the sand, her body stretched out, glistening, utterly captivating. This is definitely prime OnlyFans content. You keep shooting, losing track of time, completely absorbed in documenting every stunning inch of Danielle's naked body against the breathtaking backdrop of the secluded St. Lucian beach.

After what feels like an hour, maybe more, under the relentless Caribbean sun, you finally lower the phone. "Okay," you say, wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. "I think... I think we got it. Seriously, Dani, there's some amazing stuff here." You quickly scroll through the gallery, showing her a few highlights: a dramatic shot against the black rocks, a sensual one of her lying in the surf, a playful one where she's laughing, completely unselfconscious. Danielle crowds close, peering at the screen, her naked body brushing against your arm. "Holy shit," she breathes, her eyes widening. "Okay, yeah. These are... wow. Way better than trying to do timer selfies." She grins, looking genuinely pleased. "See? Told you I needed a good photographer." She gives your arm a grateful squeeze. "Thanks. Seriously. You're a lifesaver... and apparently, a pretty decent cameraman.

She starts gathering her clothes. "Gonna take forever to edit these, gotta crop out my face perfectly from every single one, but yeah. Definitely some good material here for the paying customers." She dresses quickly, the easy confidence returning as she pulls her tank top back on. “Okay, now let's get out of here.”

—

Back to villa, the fresh breeze of the forest is a godsend. You push through the door to find Hanni sprawled belly-down across the couch in a striped towel, hair tied up, face buried in the phone, as usual. Minji’s by the kitchen counter, eating sliced mango with a fork straight from the plate, wearing one of those comfortable breezy linen rompers.

“There they are,” Hanni says without looking up. “Did you two fuck on the beach?”

You blink.

Danielle grins and drops the bag on a chair. “Nah. Not this time.”

Minji raises an eyebrow. “So you did something.”

Danielle walks over and steals a piece of mango from her fork. “Only art, babe. Just art.”

You toss your shirt over a chair and drop down beside Hanni on the couch, her legs still damp from a rinse, bare skin sticking to the cushions. She shifts to make room, tucking herself under your arm. The rest of the day? Exactly what vacation should be. Drinks with stupid garnishes. Cheap sunglasses from the tourist shop down the hill. Hanni drags everyone to a food stand she found on Instagram that sells jerk chicken so spicy you end up chugging a full bottle of water before Minji, smug as hell, offers you a frozen guava drink she “accidentally” ordered two of.

You all climb some rocky bluff for photos, Hanni nearly falling off trying to get the angle with the sun behind her, and then hit the beach again—this time, public, packed with bodies, neon umbrellas, inflatable flamingos bobbing in the surf. No one fucks around there, obviously, but you do get to watch Danielle sunbathe topless under the guise of “European energy” while Hanni builds a sand mermaid around Minji’s legs.

By sunset, everyone’s back at the villa, glowing with sunburns and exhaustion, eating too much grilled pineapple from the BBQ stand down the road, and drinking straight from the rum bottle.

And Danielle? She’s been scheming. “Guys,” she says, emerging from her room with a devilish smile and a small, suspiciously plain brown box. “I did a thing.”

Hanni’s stretched across the living room rug in a bikini top and boxers, licking popsicle juice from her wrist. “Oh fuck. What did you buy.”

Danielle drops the box on the table with a thud. “This,” she announces, “is a gift. For Minji.”

Minji looks up, cautious. “That’s never a good sentence.”

Danielle just grins wider. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

She opens the box. Nestled inside is a harness and a thick black strap-on. Smooth. Matte. Very... obvious in intention.

Minji’s eyes go wide. “Dani—”

“You’re always saying you wanna be more adventurous,” Danielle cuts in. “Well. Here’s your chance.”

Hanni perks up immediately. “Wait—wait. Are we doing this? Are we really doing this?”

You just raise an eyebrow. “So, what—four-way? Again?”

Danielle shrugs, already unbuckling her belt. “Obviously.”

—

It only takes one session for Minji to flip the switch.

She doesn’t just “get used” to the strap-on. She fucking thrives with it. Like something dormant inside her wakes up the second she feels the harness hug her hips, the weight of the cock bouncing between her thighs as she moves. At first she still blushes when she straps in—adjusting the buckles, fiddling with the position—but the more she fucks the girls and more she watches you using your cock, the more natural it looks. The way she grips Hanni’s hips now, steady, confident, using slow, grinding thrusts to make her whimper and squirm. The way she plants her feet wide when Danielle sinks down onto her lap, hands clamped hard around Minji’s shoulders, riding the strap until she’s gasping for air.

The first time she makes Hanni cum with it, Minji looks stunned. Hanni's legs are shaking, her body seized up in a full-body tremble, soaking the fake cock and moaning so loud you swear the neighbors heard it. Minji freezes for a second, hands still clutching Hanni's thighs, watching her fall apart.

“I—fuck—did I do that?” Minji stammers, chest heaving.

Danielle, lying sprawled out naked across the bed, just smirks. “You wrecked her, Minji. Fucking legendary.”

Minji starts to grin—huge, uncontrollable—and something settles into her shoulders. After that, there’s no hesitation anymore. She starts owning it, moving with this slow, relentless rhythm that’s honestly almost scarier than being jackhammered—because she knows exactly what she's doing now. How to hit the right angles. How to roll her hips just right so the pressure builds and builds until Hanni's clawing at her back or Danielle’s begging to cum or you're watching in awe, wondering when the fuck she got so dominant.

She talks more too, low and quiet, the kind of dirty talk that makes your dick twitch without needing to shout. Grabbing Hanni by the throat while she’s riding her and murmuring, “Yeah, take it all, baby. Take it deeper. You can take it, I know you can.” Bending Danielle over the kitchen counter and growling, “You’re not done yet. You stay there ‘til I say.”

One afternoon, Minji’s got Hanni pinned against the wall outside the bathroom, towel half-falling off her body, the harness peeking out under the loose shirt Minji never bothered taking off. She's grinding into Hanni’s pussy slow and mean, Hanni’s hands scrabbling at her arms, thighs trembling. You and Danielle just stand there watching like total pervs, fresh out of the shower, dripping wet, unable to look away.

"Fuck, Minji," Danielle says, voice low and breathless, eyes wide. "You're so fucking hot like this."

Minji flashes a shy smile at that—just for a second—before grabbing Hanni’s face in one hand and kissing her hard enough to shut her up mid-whimper. She keeps fucking her against the wall, slow and steady, until Hanni melts into a sobbing orgasm right there, the towel falling to the floor.

Later that night, Minji's sprawled on the bed, sweaty and exhausted, the strap still hanging off her hips, her head turned toward you. "I get it now," she says, voice hoarse. "I fucking love it. Being the one... giving it." She laughs, breathless. "It's... it’s like being drunk on power."

And you grin back, still half-hard just from watching her ruin the girls one by one. "Told you it suits you."

Minji hums, smug now, one hand idly stroking down her own thigh. "Think I'm gonna make this a regular thing."

She does.

It becomes routine, almost. Minji taking the lead, pulling the harness on with slow, confident movements, snapping the straps tight around her waist like armor. Danielle bending over for her without a second thought. Hanni climbing into her lap like it’s her seat. You swapping with Minji sometimes, tag-teaming—her in Hanni’s ass while you fuck her pussy, or you both working Danielle over until she’s crying, too full to move, babbling nonsense.

You and Minji develop this synergy without even having to talk about it. She reads your cues, you read hers. If she pushes in slow, you pound harder. If you slow down to edge one of them, she speeds up, relentless, keeping the pressure high until the girls are shaking and begging to cum again.

One night, you’re double-penetrating Hanni on the couch—Minji behind her with the strap-on buried deep in her ass, you fucking her pussy from the front. She’s sobbing between you, thighs quivering, toes curling into the couch cushions.

"Too much," Hanni whimpers, eyes rolling back.

"You love it," Minji breathes against her neck, thrusting deeper. "You're fucking made for this."

Hanni chokes on a scream when you both bottom out at the same time, the sensation overwhelming her. She squirts hard, drenching both your thighs, her body convulsing violently.

Minji kisses the side of her face, slow and almost tender. "Good girl," she whispers. "Such a good fucking girl."

You pull out after, letting her collapse into a shaking heap, and Minji strokes her hair while you both watch Hanni twitch and whimper through the aftershocks.

Danielle gets it worse the next night—Minji holding her down by the back of her neck, forcing her to stay in position while you fuck her raw. She’s drooling onto the sheets by the time you both finish, legs too weak to even close around you. Minji pulls out first, tugging the dildo free with a wet pop, and you thrust a few more times before cumming inside Dani, filling her pussy with heat and making her moan brokenly into the pillow.

"Fucking ruined," Danielle mumbles, slurred, dazed. "God... best spring break... of my fucking life."

Hanni, half-asleep nearby, giggles and claps weakly. "Praise be... to the stress relief committee..."

Minji just laughs, rolling onto her back, tossing the harness onto the floor like a discarded trophy.

You lie there, muscles sore, cock still twitching faintly, staring at the slow-turning ceiling fan overhead. Listening to the girls’ soft laughter, their satisfied little sighs as they drift closer to sleep.

—

Every single day melts into the next, sharpening your purpose here until it's diamond-hard. You're not just the guy Hanni brought along for stress relief anymore, not just the dude who can fuck them right, though you definitely excel at that. No, you've become something more fundamental to their vacation ecosystem: their favorite tool. Their dedicated service dom. The one who instinctively knows Hanni needs her ass slapped harder without asking, the one who sees Danielle adjusting her position for a better filming angle and holds her steady, the one who helps Minji adjust the strap-on harness until it sits just right across her hips.

You listen; not just to the words, but to the hitches in breath, the clench of muscles, the flicker in their eyes. You read the damn room, anticipating needs, fulfilling fantasies they barely knew they had until you offered them up. You act without needing to be told twice, a silent understanding passing between you, yet you always ask before crossing a new line, checking in with a low murmur, "Like this?", "Harder?", "Tell me what you want." Your entire fucking existence on this island has distilled down to facilitating their pleasure, maximizing their release, ensuring their needs are met above all else. And the crazy part? They’ve leaned into it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you were specifically designed and delivered just for them, their perfect, obedient, pleasure-giving machine.

Hanni is, unsurprisingly, the boldest, the most demanding in her casual ownership. She doesn’t really ask for things so much as state facts, her requests delivered with the breezy entitlement of someone ordering room service. She’ll stretch out naked on the sun-drenched sheets after a lazy afternoon nap, legs spread slightly, and just murmur, "Eat me," without even looking up from her phone. And you? You're between her thighs before the words fully register, nose buried in her heat, tongue already tracing patterns against her clit. "Mmm, yeah," she sigh, dropping her phone and tangling her hands in your hair, grinding her hips down against your face. "Just like that, fuck... don't stop." Her tone is always low purr, punctuated by sharp gasps and breathy giggles as you work her over. "God, your tongue is fucking magic... right there..."

She rides your mouth like she owns it, hips bucking, controlling the pressure, whispering filthy encouragements—lick me harder, faster, yeah, suck my clit, make me cum—until she inevitably shatters. She always comes fast and hard when it’s just your mouth, twitching all over, thighs clamping around your head like a vise, hips giving one last desperate jerk before she collapses, panting, demanding you lick her clean until the last aftershock fades. "Good boy," she sigh, patting your head dismissively, already reaching for her phone again.

Danielle, true to her director's eye, is more methodical, more precise in her desires. She knows exactly what she wants, how she wants it, and isn't shy about articulating it. She’ll pause mid-sentence while talking about editing software, catch your eye, then step directly in front of you, blocking your path. "Tits," she state simply, pulling your face towards her bare chest (because clothes are increasingly optional in the villa). "Suck ‘em. Feeling sensitive today, need the pressure." You obey instantly, palming her small, firm breasts, taking a nipple into your mouth, licking, sucking gently at first. She watch your mouth on her skin with unnerving focus, then bite her lip. "Harder," she command, her voice dropping an octave. "Use your teeth a little. Yeah." You adjust immediately, pulling harder, grazing the soft skin with your teeth just enough to make her gasp, her breath catching sharply. "Fuck... yes," she whisper, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

Listening to her is like hearing a porn script being dictated by the star who's also directing—incredibly specific instructions: "Okay, now circle the left one with your tongue, slower... yeah... now bite the right one, just a pinch..." mixed with genuine, breathless reactions "Shit, that feels good... oh fuck, keep doing that...". It's never fake, though; it’s just her being hyper-aware of her own body, meticulously guiding you towards the sensations that make her feel incredible, that get her off exactly the way she wants.

And Minji? Sweet, surprising Minji is all about the exploration, the learning. She watches everything. She observes the way you hold Hanni's hips when you fuck her from behind, the exact pressure Danielle likes when you suck her nipples, the rhythm that makes Hanni scream the loudest. Then, later, when she straps on the harness, and you help her, making sure the straps are snug, applying the lube generously, your fingers slow and firm against her skin as you check the fit—she mimics what she's seen. She’ll look down at you, eyes wide with concentration and a flicker of that newfound dominance, adjusting the thick black cock slightly. "Will you guide me again?" she ask, especially those first few times. You nod, kneeling beside her and Danielle, or her and Hanni, placing your hand over hers on the base of the dildo, coaching her on the angle, the depth. "Slow," you murmur, "Let her take it... yeah, now push deeper... feel how she clenches?" You guide her through the initial thrusts until she finds her confidence, until her hips start moving with a steady, powerful rhythm of her own.

Then you switch, and she watches intently as you take over, pinning Danielle face down, pounding into her just a little rougher than Minji dared, making Danielle shriek and beg for more. Minji studies the angle of your hips, the grip of your hands, the look in Danielle's eyes, absorbing it all. And guaranteed, the next time Minji has Danielle begging beneath her, she'll incorporate that exact move, that specific rhythm, pushing her own boundaries, feeding her appetite for control, the intoxicating power of inflicting overwhelming pleasure.

They ask. You give. Simple as that. Hanni needs a foot massage while Danielle films Minji eating her out? Done. Danielle needs you to hold the camera steady with one hand while fucking her with the other, whispering specific dirty phrases she thinks her subs will like? No problem. Minji wants you to tie her wrists loosely to the headboard with one of Hanni’s discarded bikini tops while she rides you, just to see what it feels like? Absolutely. Your purpose is service, and damn, you're good at it.

And Danielle’s phone camera is practically a fifth member of the group now, always seemingly lurking, always potentially rolling. Her OnlyFans project becomes a collaborative effort, fueled by exhibitionism, alcohol, and a shared desire to capture the raw heat of their vacation. It's her body, her rules, her creative vision directing the shots, but you and the other girls are willing participants on both sides of the lens. One ridiculously lazy afternoon, sunlight streaming into the master bedroom, Danielle drags the big floor mirror from the corner, positioning it carefully near the foot of the bed to capture reflections, different angles. She hands you her phone, already set up on a small, flexible tripod she apparently packed.

"Okay," she says, stripping off her sundress and panties with zero fanfare. "New concept: POV masturbation, but like... make it art." She climbs onto the sheets, positioning herself facing the mirror, legs spread invitingly. "Just film what turns you on," she instructs, meeting your eyes with a challenging grin. "Focus on the details. If it gets you hard watching it, trust me, it'll be hot to them."

So you film. You position the phone on the tripod, focusing tightly. Her fingers, slick with her own wetness, parting her swollen lips. The way her clit peeks out, already hard and glistening. You follow her hand as she starts rubbing, slow circles at first, then faster, more insistent pressure. Her soft gasps, the way her hips begin to tilt rhythmically off the sheets. You pan up slowly, lingering on the taut muscles of her stomach quivering, the rise and fall of her small breasts. You zoom in on her throat as she swallows hard, her neck arched, then her mouth, lips parted, panting softly. Then, needing to be closer, needing to participate, you let the phone carefully on the tripod, ensuring the angle is still good, and kneel on the bed beside her. You reach out, sliding two fingers deep into her wet heat.

She gasps sharply, eyes flying open, locking with yours in the mirror's reflection. "Is this... part of the plan?" she breathes out. A smirk touches your lips. "Say stop if you want me to." She doesn't. Of course, she doesn't. Instead, she arches her hips harder, pushing herself onto your invading fingers. "Fuck..." The shot captures everything, your hand moving rhythmically, her fingers now frantically working her clit, her thighs shaking. "Oh god... yes," she moans, her voice climbing higher. "Keep going... don't stop... fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing—oh yes—right there—" When she finally comes, tipping over the edge with a strangled cry, the phone capture every second. Her whole body clenching, her toes curling, her stomach trembling violently, a final sob escaping her lips before she collapses back onto the sheets, panting, a dazed, blissful smile spreading across her face. Later, showered and wrapped in towels, she watches the raw footage back, legs curled under her on the sofa. "Holy fuck," she whispers finally, looking up at you. "Okay. Yeah. That'll definitely sell."

Minji even overcomes her lingering shyness enough to get properly in front of the camera, albeit usually with Danielle directing and Hanni providing enthusiastic, often obscene, commentary from behind the lens. One night, after way too much rum, Danielle sets the phone up on the nightstand, framing the bed perfectly. She immediately climbs onto her back, pulling Minji down on top of her, hooking her knees over Minji’s shoulders, already wet and giggling. "Okay, Action!" Hanni yells, hitting record with a flourish. "Make her moan loud, Minji! I want everyone on this island to hear her being a whore!" Minji, strapped securely into her harness, hesitates for only a second before fucking down into Danielle, slow and deliberate at first. Dani whimpers instantly, toes curling. "Shit—Minji—already? Fuck—don’t stop—" she gasps out, arching her back, her small breasts bouncing with every deep thrust.

You’re kneeling beside the bed again, playing your assigned support role, one hand stroking Danielle’s trembling thigh, the other finding her clit, rubbing tight little circles, perfectly syncing your rhythm with Minji’s steady pace. Danielle is shaking, completely overwhelmed, by the time she cums, moaning loud enough to satisfy even Hanni, clenching hard around the silicone cock, the whole raw, intimate scene captured perfectly. Danielle edits it later, adding soft filters, cutting just before faces are fully visible, layering some innocuous indie music over the raw audio. The result is surprisingly beautiful: intimate, intensely sensual, undeniably dirty, and utterly compelling.

You even manage to film the DP scene Hanni keeps drunkenly demanding. It takes coordination, lots of lube, and Danielle being incredibly greedy and wrecked on cocktails. She’s face down, ass up, babbling incoherently, drool dampening the pillow beneath her cheek as Minji carefully slides the thick strap-on into her tight ass while you simultaneously fuck her pussy from behind. It’s intense, borderline chaotic. "Easy, easy," you murmur, coaching Minji on the angle while your own cock stretches Danielle’s cunt. Minji leans over Danielle's back from behind, whispering dirty talk directly into her ear, "Such a good girl for us... taking both our cocks... look how stretched out you are..." Your hands grip Danielle’s waist, trying to hold her steady as she bucks and moans beneath the double penetration.

You manage to keep the phone propped on a pillow relatively steady, switching hands when one starts to cramp, capturing the overwhelming sight of Danielle being thoroughly used, completely filled. She begs you both not to stop. You don't. Not until she’s screaming, coming so hard she probably does forget her own name, her body convulsing violently between you. Capturing that raw, uncontrolled release feels like a sacred, filthy duty.

Sunlight slants through the windows in the mornings, illuminating the beautiful wreckage; bite marks blooming on inner thighs, faint scratches down someone's back from frantic gripping, lube streaks drying on bare skin, discarded clothing forming abstract sculptures on the floor. You clean up together, making coffee shirtless, wandering naked onto the balcony to check the surf. Touch is constant, casual, affectionate, possessive. Hanni grabs your ass possessively every time you walk past the sofa where she’s lounging. Minji presses a soft, unexpected kiss to your cheek while you're both reaching for the orange juice. Danielle sits on your lap without warning, and you automatically wrap your arms around her waist.

They don’t just use you. They like you.

You’re part of the group now. Not just Hanni’s secret hookup. Not just a vacation fling.

You’re theirs. Just like they’re yours.

—

The last couple of days in St. Lucia take on a slightly different energy. The frantic exploration and hedonistic frenzy ease into a slower, more savoring pace. There's an unspoken awareness that the bubble is about to burst, that the real world with its deadlines and responsibilities looms just beyond the horizon. You spend the final afternoon on your favorite stretch of beach, not doing much of anything, just floating in the impossibly blue water, sharing a bottle of lukewarm rosé smuggled from the villa, soaking up the last rays of Caribbean sun. Packing later that evening is a subdued affair. Clothes smell faintly of salt, sand, and coconut sunscreen. Souvenirs are carefully wrapped. Danielle meticulously backs up the hundreds of photos (both SFW and very NSFW) from her phone onto a portable drive. Minji stares longingly out the balcony window, while Hanni seems unusually quiet, a thoughtful expression on her face.

You all gather on the balcony for one last sunset, cheap beers in hand. The sky explodes in fiery oranges and purples over the lush green hills. For a while, no one speaks, just watching the spectacle, lost in thought. "Well," Danielle says finally, breaking the comfortable silence, "That didn't suck." Her tone is light, but there's an undercurrent of genuine emotion. Minji nods, leaning her head against Danielle’s shoulder. "It was..." she searches for the word, "...perfect. Even better than I let myself imagine." Hanni sighs dramatically, taking a long swig of her beer. "Best. Idea. Ever," she reiterates, bumping her shoulder against yours. "See? You guys should always listen to me." She looks around at the group, her expression softening. "Seriously though... this was amazing. All of it." You feel a surge of gratitude, mixed with the bittersweet pang of the trip ending. "It really was," you agree, looking at each of them in turn. "Seriously, guys... thanks. For letting me crash your girls' trip. For..." You hesitate, unsure how to articulate the rest; the acceptance, the adventures, the incredible sex, the unexpected connection. "...For everything. It was fucking incredible."

Danielle reaches over and squeezes your knee. "Are you kidding? You surviving us was the incredible part." She laughs. "Couldn't have done it without our resident stress-reliever slash photographer slash obedient dom." Minji smiles warmly. "Yeah. It wouldn't have been the same without you. You just... fit." The easy acceptance in her voice makes something warm settle in your chest. It feels true. Somewhere between the shared drinks, the tourist traps, the tangled sheets, and the drunken confessions, the dynamic shifted irrevocably. Hanni nods, though a familiar possessive glint enters her eyes. "Okay, okay, group hug, whatever," she says, waving a dismissive hand, though she leans closer against you. "But let's be clear," she adds, poking you in the ribs, her tone mostly playful but with an edge of seriousness, "He's still my property, technically. I found him first. First dibs still apply indefinitely."

Danielle and Minji burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Hanni!" Danielle exclaims. "Still calling dibs? After everything?" Hanni shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but failing. "Hey! Finder's keepers. Sharing is fine, but ownership is key."

You chuckle, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Han. I remember the terms and conditions." The implication hangs there; this isn't just the end of a vacation fling. The connection forged here, the complicated, messy, exhilarating dynamic between the four of you, feels like something more permanent. The promise of future moments, future adventures, future tangled nights, hangs unspoken but palpable in this warm twilight air... Yeah, the trio is definitely a foursome now, whether Hanni wants to admit shared ownership or not.

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amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

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Red Hot

Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

Tags: anal, anal creampie, asshole fingering, cock and toy DP, dick sucking lips, dildo, dirty talk, doggy, pornography, POV, redhead, riding, sex on camera, sloppy blowjob, thong, throatpie

Word count: 4329.

You were trying to scout new girls for your adult entertainment agency, but you had been struggling as of late to find new talent. Things were dire, and the girls you had lately taken a look at weren't impressing you much; maybe the prospect of new talents was truly dire.

Until you saw a redhead Asian girl shaking her ass on stage and fell in love with her instantly.

"She's so good, I need to get her number," you said as you watched the tape of the redhead girl, knowing you needed to get her at all costs to film a scene for your studio. "Apparently her name is Ryujin," you said to a staff member. "I have to call her ASAP," you continued. It took a bit, but you finally managed to find a way to contact her.

"Do you want to film a scene with us?" you texted Ryujin. "Sure, but I think I'll need my label's authorization," she answered. "This has to be between us; I don't want anyone to decide for you," you told her.

Ryujin ended up accepting your offer to film the scene; she was initially thinking it was for some drama, but soon she would find out it was a different kind of scene.

As Ryujin entered the studio, she found you finishing a hardcore sex scene with a girl. At first, she felt embarrassed. But before she could say anything, you put your clothes back on and went in her direction.

"I don't know if I can do this. I thought it was going to be a regular scene, not pornography," Ryujin told you. "Relax," you said to her. "What if people close to me see it?" she asks. "Don't be afraid; you can use a stage name. How about 'Red Hot'?" Because that's what you look like with that hair," you said to her.

"Ok, that's a great name," Ryujin answered. "Go to the dressing room and take your favorite outfit from there; we can start as soon as you do," you answered her. "Alright," Ryujin replied, still trying to process what she had gotten into.

"Wow, oh my goodness," you said as Ryujin returned from the dressing room. She had truly chosen the skimpiest possible outfit: a G-string bra and thong along with high heels. "Looks like you are going to pull out an amazing performance today," you told her. "I always do; you can count on that," she said.

Ryujin started making sexy poses in the mirror and smiling as you looked at her beautiful, hot body. Soon, you got the camera rolling. "You like my outfit? I put it just for you," she said, licking the mirror. "It's incredible," you answered. She smiled again. It didn't take long for her to start talking dirty to you. "I've been thinking about your cock all day long; bet it's really hard for me," she said.

"I can't wait for that big cock to be deep in my pussy and my ass," Ryujin kept talking dirty to you. "How did you guess I was gonna fuck your ass?" you asked her as the camera zoomed into her body. "Well, I know most guys would love to," she said, shaking them in front of the camera just like she did in the concert.

"Your outfit is wonderful. Are you ready to be my naughty little kitty today?" You asked Ryujin, the camera zooming in on her boobs. "Of course, I've been so horny," she answered, pulling her bra to the side and letting you pour some slick lube on her cute tits for her to massage them.

"My nipples are so hard, I'm so excited and horny to bounce up and down on that cock," Ryujin said as she grabbed her boobs and played with her small outfit. "Such a nice pussy, I love it," you said as she teased you, playing with her thong that could barely contain it. "I'm so horny, I need that big fat cock, please, stroke it for me, show me how much you want it, get it hard for me," she said.

Ryujin turned around and slowly took her thong down, showing you her tight little holes. She bent over a little, massaging her pussy in front of you and putting a finger in her asshole. "Rub it in for me," you told her, pouring lube on her ass and making it shiny as she kept teasing you and shaking her ass just like she did at the concert. "Imagine that butt sliding down that big fat cock, up and down like this," she said, moving it to show it.

Ryujin truly loved to tease you, smiling from ear to ear as her body got you throbbing. You had filmed countless scenes with many naughty girls, but Ryujin truly had a unique charm. "Use me, use all of my holes," she begged, spanking her own ass. Soon, you took your turn, spanking her butt a bit. "I like that," she said, with a cute smile, before you set your sights on a different target and started rubbing your fingers around her asshole.

"Oh yeah, play with my tight ass. Oh, that feels good," Ryujin says as you start penetrating her butthole with your thumb. "You like that?" you asked her. "Oh, I love it," Ryujin said, letting you stick your thumb as deep as possible. "My ass is very tight," she said, and you could tell as it contracted as soon as you pulled out of it.

You feed your dirty thumb straight into Ryujin's mouth, her enjoying it a lot as she smiled at you, and you gave her a little choking too. She pulled her tongue out as you ran your hands over her body and pulled your pants down. "That cock is nice and hard and ready to fuck me," she said, touching it. "It's all yours today," you told her. "I can't wait to feel it inside me," she said.

Ryujin slowly stroked your cock using her very strong hands. "Look at that cock," she said, getting down on her knees and kissing the tip of it before going down the whole shaft. She teased you a bit with a few kisses and licks, paying special attention to your throbbing tip and making your pant sounds be loudly recorded.

"I love to kiss your cock," Ryujin said. "Can't forget about the balls," she continued, putting them in her mouth for the first time as she kept stroking your cock. You zoomed the camera into her pretty face and worked all over your sack. "That's incredible," you said as she spat on your cock and started finally taking it in her mouth.

Ryujin gave you a very slow-paced blowjob, but her dick-sucking lips were so incredible you were already on the edge. And she knows how to tease, rubbing the tip of your cock in her nipples a couple of times between her blowjobs. "Playing with those hard nipples," she said.

Ryujin sucked your cock like a champion, giving you a blowjob very few girls you had previously performed with had managed to. Her warm mouth, dirty talk, and strong strokes made for a lethal combination, putting you at the edge of your seat from the get-go. "That cock tastes so good," she said, taking it deeper and deeper in her throat. She was very sloppy, coating your shaft with her saliva and maneuvering every inch of it incredibly.

You tried to fuck her face, but Ryujin didn't relent, taking your cock with ease deep in her throat before retaking control of the blowjob. "I love blowing bubbles on that big cock, so big I need to use both my hands to stroke it," she said as she kept working them alongside her tongue to perfection.

You kept panting against the camera, Ryujin's blowjob making you use all your energy just to hold onto the cum that was begging to come out of your cock. She circled her smiling all over it, smiling as she didn't spare

It didn't take long for you to not resist Ryujin's incredible cock-sucking skills and blow your cum out prematurely, forcing you to cut the scene. "Damn, looks like you enjoyed me sucking your cock a lot," she said with the camera already off. "I definitely did," you said, getting on the floor for the next sequence.

"Get that cock hard and we can keep going," you told Ryujin, who promptly obliged as she didn't need much effort to put it back throbbing again, spitting all over your cock as you lay on the floor. "I can't wait to have it inside you," you said to her. Ryujin agreed, but first she needed to taste it a little bit more.

Ryujin dove between your legs, circling her tongue around your balls before moving down to lick your asshole. "Such a nasty girl," you said as the camera followed her face and Ryujin started to make sloppy sounds with her tongue deep in your rectum. She moved her face up and down as she worked her mouth all over your anus, spitting on your balls and licking them as you filmed that amazing point of view for the audience.

"So good," you told Ryujin, praising her incredible rimjob skills. Not every girl has the courage to get down and dirty, even among the best cock suckers, but Ryujin was taking her tongue inside your asshole with the same ease that she sucked your cock. She kept following the camera, looking at it very naturally.

"Are you ready for my tight pussy?" I want you to stretch all my holes today, my tight little pussy and my tight little ass," Ryujin said, looking right at the audience while stroking your cock. She was finally ready to climb on top of that cock as she prepared herself to ride it and got herself in position, but not before you gave her a few instructions.

"Rub it in your pussy," you told Ryujin, who promptly started teasing you, touching the tip of your cock against the entrance of her vagina. "I love that pussy grinding on my cock," you told her. She went a little further, rubbing your tip against her navel. "Can't wait to have it bulging under my belly," she said, also pressing your cock a little between her thighs before finally taking it down her pussy.

"Fuck, it's so big," Ryujin says as she starts having second thoughts, taking only the tip of you inside her pussy. You capture her priceless reaction to the size of your cock. "Oh, it's so big," she repeats, trying to get it deeper in her pussy, bouncing very slowly. "That cock feels so good inside me," she says.

"Do you enjoy watching it go up and down my pussy?" Ryujin asks as she slowly starts to get more comfortable with your cock. "I can feel it stretching me out," she says, your amazing girth filling her pussy to the fullest. She looks at the camera and starts making sensual expressions, grabbing her boobs as she moans riding your cock. "Ohhhh, ohhhh, you make my pussy so creamy," she moans.

Ryujin picks up the pace, you moving the camera to capture every inch of her body. "I love feeling that cock so deep inside me, oh yeah," she moans. You try to push upwards, but Ryujin quickly takes control, her sexy slow ride quickly bringing you to submission. You zoom the camera right into her crotch, capturing her riding your cock in a way the audience can feel fully immersed in the scene.

"Ohhhh, I love to feel every inch of that cock in my pussy," Ryujin says, riding your cock hard and deep just as you zoom around her pussy. She grinds and spins on your cock, riding it perfectly as she rubs her pussy for the audience. "Oh, fuck, oh yeah," she moans, quickly getting wet and dropping a huge load of squirt into the camera that makes her giggle.

Ryujin cleans the squirt from your shaft and your belly as she smiles. "It tastes so delicious," she says. "You're so naughty," you tell her as she sucks your cock and spits all over your cock. "Come here, baby, crawl for me like a kitty cat," you tell her, Ryujin obliging as you put your camera on a tripod and capture her crawling body, giving you a nice gift in the process.

"Ohhh, that's big, but I don't know if it's bigger than yours," Ryujin says as you give her a dildo for her to play with. She strokes and sucks it just like she did to your cock, your camera fully capturing her sexy moves while she plays with her pussy, making gag sounds all over the toy and deepthroating it. "You like sucking it?" you ask her. Ryujin smiles.

"OH MY GOD," Ryujin screams as you get behind her and shove your cock back inside her pussy. The camera captures her reaction perfectly. "OH FUCK," Ryujin screams as you pump her pussy hard as she performs a spit-roasting with the dildo, gagging hard on it as she gets pounded. "OH FUCK, OH YEAH," she moans, you pushing her body closer to the camera and grabbing her hair, relentlessly attacking her tight pussy.

"OH, THAT FEELS SO GOOD," Ryujin moans as you get fully in the frame, topping her with hard thrusts deep in her cunt. She gags all over the dildo. "OHHHHH," she screams as she pulls out of it, giggling and sucking it as you tell her about your next plans.

"I want to put this in your ass," you say to Ryujin, filming her hot body in full display. "Do you think it can fit?" she asks. "Of course, I know you can do everything I ask," you tell her.

Ryujin bends over on the couch, you adding some lube to the dildo as you watch her start shoving it down her butthole. "Oh, fuck," she moans as the dildo anally penetrates her. "Oh my God, that ass is so tight," she says, yet still manages to shove the whole toy in her anus, teasing you as you zoom into her backside to watch her play with it, Ryujin taking the whole 10 inches of the dildo up her butt.

Ryujin moans as the dildo continues to stretch her asshole. "I can feel that cock stretching my little tight ass; I know you want it too," she says. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO BIG," she screams, but keep going, simulating an anal penetration in front of you to perfection. You capture her moaning face and her incredible ass, eventually not resisting the urge and shoving your cock back in her pussy.

"Oh yeah, fill both my holes," Ryujin says as your cock gets in and double stuffs her. She takes both the fake and real cock with ease, giving away that she's got some previous experience getting double penetrated. "OH FUCK, THAT FEELS SO GOOD," she says, your cock barely inside her as you keep thrusting, Ryujin matching your thrusts with the dildo in perfect sync.

Ryujin's tight pussy squeezes your cock even further now that she's got two massive toys in both her holes to play with it. She giggles as she pulls the dildo out of her asshole to taste it. "You want the real thing, don't you?" you ask her, not even giving her rectum a second to breathe as you already shut it back down with your massive cock.

"OH MY GOD, OH FUCK," Ryujin screams as you anally penetrate her for the first time, muffling her moans with the dildo. She shows she's not intimidated by your massive cock up her butt, moving her hips to meet your thrusts as your hand camera fully captures it for the audience. Moaning and gagging sounds come from Ryujin's mouth as your cock gets deeper in her ass, her shaking it nicely to take all of it while she gags all over the monster dildo, having fun with both her toys.

"OH YES, FUCK MY ASS, JUST LIKE THAT," Ryujin commands as you zoom briefly into her moaning face before giving the perfect view of your cock pounding her ass, immersing the audience almost as if they were the ones fucking her. "Do you enjoy fucking my ass?" Ryujin asks just as your camera zooms into her sexy face.

"Give me that big cock deep in my ass, use my hole, use my tight ass, oh fuck, use it to stroke that cock," Ryujin talks dirty as her tight butthole squeezes your cock to the fullest. "So nice," you tell her, Ryujin licking the dildo as you penetrate her butt.

"Ride my cock," you tell Ryujin, never pulling out as you get down on the couch. "Like this," you tell her as Ryujin starts squatting on your cock with her fit butt, you giving a full body angle to the audience of the incredible ride she's giving you, zooming into her ass just as she grabs her cheeks and spreads them for your cock.

"OH YES, YES, YES," Ryujin moans as she bounces on your cock like a pro, pushing you to the edge as the side of her cheeks hits your legs. Her flaming red hair waves beautifully, creating an effect that looks almost as if she's catching fire. You have to briefly pull out just not to cum, with how amazing she's performing. "Please, put it back in. I want you to use me like your sex toy," Ryujin says, begging like a baby girl to you.

"Put it back inside your ass, you earned it," you tell Ryujin as you recover your breath and hand your cock back to her. Ryujin promptly sits on it, you zooming your cameras as she shakes her ass on your cock sideways, giggling and moaning as she does so, you capturing her wide as close as possible while also taking a look at the reactions in her slutty face as she looks behind to watch herself getting impaled.

Ryujin goes all-in, riding your cock extremely well, taking it all the way deep with fast thrusts. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD, I LOVE HAVING THAT BIG FAT COCK DEEP IN MY ASS," she says, you groaning again, her tight ass squeezing your cock more than ever.

Ryujin knows she's in the driver's seat, spanking her own ass as she squats hard on your cock. "OH, IT'S SO DEEP, MY ASS IS SO FUCKING TIGHT BOUNCING UP AND DOWN THAT BIG FAT COCK. OH FUCK, I LOVE RIDING THAT COCK," she screams as her bounces only get harder, the couch making noises as Ryujin makes you unload inside her ass. This time you don't cut it from the scene, just letting the audience enjoy the way she drained your balls.

"Looks like I'm winning it handily against you," Ryujin says off-camera as she watches you sit to take a little relief. It takes a bit for you to recover from her incredible anal ride, but as soon as you're ready, you pop your cock back in the screen for her to taste her ass. "Taste that dirty ass, baby, suck my cock," you tell her, Ryujin promptly bobbing her head, using no hands, just attacking your cock relentlessly with her dick-sucking lips as you try to fuck her face, but she's so strong she quickly prevails, spitting on your dick to sign her win.

"Lay on your back," you tell Ryujin as she spreads her legs on the couch and starts teasing you, bringing back the dildo into play as she shoves it in her pussy. You're still so numb from the last fuck session you drop the camera just as you were about to start filming her masturbating. "Oh, fuck, oh my God," she moans, her legs fully spread as you soon enter the scene, putting Ryujin in a feet position and pushing your cock back in her ass.

"OH FUCK YEAH," Ryujin screams as you thrust as hard as possible into her asshole. "OH YES, FUCK ME," she begs, pushing the dildo hard and deep into her pussy to match your intense penetration. She giggles and then shoves the dildo up her mouth just as you bring the camera and zoom into her body, giving the perfect view of her ass getting fucked with her pussy wide open, albeit not for long as Ryujin shoves the dildo back inside it.

"FUCK YES, YES, YES, YES, YES," Ryujin screams until she squirts all over the dildo, smiling to the camera as she tastes her juices from it. You stay focused, fucking her ass hard and immersing the audience just like a POV sex scene asks for, capturing all of Ryujin's sexy reactions as she fingers her pussy and facefucks herself with the dildo while you anally pound her. She puts a couple of fingers up her cunt, ready to squirt at any second.

"YESSSSSSS," Ryujin loudly screams as the juices of her pussy cover your cock after a massive squirting, some of it spilling into the camera lenses. "That felt so good," she says with that incredible smile that you already fell in love with. You adjust the camera, taking her into a slow round of ass-fucking, just admiring her beauty as you fuck her like your sex toy, just like she asked before, Ryujin sexy looking into your eyes and moaning beautifully.

"AHHHHH," Ryujin moans as you hit the depths of her asshole. You switch to her pussy. "Oh yes, fuck my pussy," Ryujin says as things get hotter and hotter, the red-hot girl making you want to go on forever. "USE MY PUSSY, YES," she begs. You choke her a bit and share some kisses, showing hot, passionate moments are possible even in the most hardcore scenes. "OH YEAH," Ryujin screams, her pussy getting wet as you fully top her, slowing down with your cock fully buried deep inside her pussy.

Ryujin starts losing her breath, the long pounding finally catching up to her. You sense her vulnerability and pick up the pace, kissing her as you thrust hard and fast inside her pussy, watching her get wetter and wetter. Her legs are so spread her high heels almost hit the camera, you grabbing it to capture her beautiful smile.

"Sit on my cock," you tell Ryujin, her obliging as you give a back view of her getting stuffed in her pussy. You grab her hot body and start pumping up her cunt. As soon as Ryujin gets your cock back inside her, the viewers enjoy her getting used by your massive cock with fast but very passionate thrusts. The only thing they can see is your legs and Ryujin's ass as you pump her hard and grab her butt. "OH MY GOD, OH YEAH, OH FUCK," she moans, losing her breath bit by bit as your hard pounding exhausts her, but despite that, she keeps giggling and smiling at all times.

You let Ryujin sensually grind on your cock, the viewers getting an incredible experience of her moving her pussy around your cock. Her puckered anus winks to them like a camera eye, Ryujin just letting herself get pounded nonstop as you attack her pussy like a madman, the only audible things on tape being her moans and the sound of your hips clapping against her cheeks.

"OH YES BABY, OH YES BABY, PLEASE FUCK ME," Ryujin begs as her pussy gets obliterated. She is tired now, her preparations for the comeback and all those performances at those university festivals that made you fall in love with her finally catching up to her. You stay with your cock inside her pussy, taking a little break to suck her cute tits and share some kisses.

"I want your cum," Ryujin says as she's ready to enter the final moments of the scene. You knew there was only one way to end this scene, as you put Ryujin's pretty face upside down on the couch and started fucking it balls deep, enjoying the saliva coming out of her face.

"Eat that ass," you tell Ryujin as you sit on her face to take a little break, her obliging and licking your asshole as you wipe it on her face and stroke your cock, Ryujin taking a slice of your balls to lick it as well. You quickly go back to pounding her throat, enjoying her coughing and gagging as your cock bulges under her throat while you grope her tits.

You switch the angle of the camera, attacking Ryujin's throat as hard as possible as you give the viewers a back view, Ryujin's throat getting stuffed like a pussy as saliva starts running down her mouth into her face, ruining it completely. You're now closer than ever and know only a few couple thrusts are needed for you to cum. "I want to fucking cum," you tell her, Ryujin gagging as a way to beg for it, her eyes rolling as her face is completely stuffed full of your cock now, loud wet noises coming out each time you hit deep in her throat, your cock all the way down it and even your balls now completely stuffed inside her mouth.

You unload inside Ryujin's throat, pulling out a bit to also shoot a couple of loads in her pretty face, the scene ending with her ruined face covered full of cum. "That was so good," she says just as you turn off the camera. "You're incredible, red-hot girl," you tell her. "Thank you," she says, smiling as you praise her performing skills.

As Ryujin gets ready to leave, you make another proposal to her.

"Come back tomorrow; I need to fill this pussy next," you tell her.

"Hell yeah, can't wait for you to cum multiple times in my pussy," she answers.

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amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

Text

Initiation

GP! Sugar Mommy Irene and Seulgi x Fem!Reader

Tags: Light BDSM, Petplay, Degradation, Praise

You nervously adjust the blindfold covering your eyes, the soft fabric blocking out the world as you take tentative steps forward, your heart pounding in your chest. The click of your heels against the hardwood floor echoes through the empty room, each step bringing you closer to your potential new life. As an aspiring artist, you've hit rock bottom, desperate for a way out of the financial hole you've dug yourself into. And then, like a beacon of hope in the darkness, you found Irene and Seulgi's ad. They promised a generous allowance, a place to stay, and the freedom to pursue your artistic passions. But first, they insisted on an initiation test.

As you round a corner, the scent of their perfume hits you - a mix of sweet, rich vanilla and a hint of something darker, more mysterious. Your senses are heightened, each detail crystalizing in the absence of sight. You hear the soft rustle of fabric, the faint clink of jewelry. They are here, watching you, assessing you.

"Welcome, darling," a melodic voice purrs, smooth as honey and twice as sweet. Irene. "We've been expecting you." Her hand finds your elbow, guiding you further into the room, her touch electric against your skin.

"And don't you look lovely," another voice chimes in, deeper, more playful. Seulgi. Two hands find your waist, spinning you slowly, drinking in every detail of your appearance. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? I can't wait to make you ours."

You blush at their words, a shiver racing down your spine as you feel their eyes on you, seeing you in a way no one else ever has. Irene's fingers trail up your arm, grazing your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitches as another pair of hands settle on your shoulders, slowly, deliberately. They are circling you, toying with you, like a predator stalking prey.

"Arms up," Irene commands softly, and you obey without hesitation, raising your arms above your head. Cool metal encircles your wrists, clicking into place. Handcuffs. Your heart races as the realization hits you - you're at their mercy now.

Seulgi's fingers deftly fasten the second cuff, the metal biting into your skin, a delicious mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. Your arms are pinned above your head, restrained, bound by the cuffs attached to an unseen fixture. You're at their mercy, completely vulnerable, and the thought sends a thrill racing down your spine.

"Such a good girl," Irene coos, her voice a silky caress in the darkened room. Her fingers dance along your collarbone, tracing the swell of your breasts, teasing you through the thin fabric of your shirt. Your nipples strain against the confines of your bra, aching for her touch, craving more.

Seulgi's hands skim down your sides, her nails lightly dragging over your skin, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. She grips your hips, pulling you flush against her, and you can feel the heat radiating off her body. "We're going to have so much fun together," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear.

Seulgi and Irene circle around you like wolves eyeing a lamb, drinking in the sight of you, arms bound above your head, completely at their mercy. Irene trails a finger along the hem of your skirt, slowly inching it upward, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of your creamy thigh.

"Now, sweet thing," Irene begins, her voice a low purr, "being ours comes with certain... expectations. When you're here, under this roof, you belong to us. Your body, your pleasure, your very being - it's all ours to command."

She hooks a finger in your skirt and yanks it upwards, letting it pool around your waist, leaving you in nothing but your lacy panties and bra. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and arousal. Irene smirks at your predicament, clearly relishing the power she holds over you.

Seulgi chimes in, her fingers skimming up your bare thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "You'll be expected to be available to us at all times. Whenever, wherever, however we want you." Her hand cups your sex possessively through the thin fabric, and you can't help but gasp, your hips bucking slightly into her touch.

"When you're here, you'll be naked. Always," Irene continues, her voice a silky command. "No clothes, unless we give you specific permission to wear something, be it a collar, a maid costume, anything. Or else, your pretty little body should be on display, ready for our pleasure." Your eyes widen at the blunt command, a mix of shock and arousal coursing through you. Irene nods slowly, a wicked glint in her eyes. "And your holes," Seulgi adds, her voice dripping with dark promise as her fingers press more firmly against your clothed sex, "they're ours as well. Anytime, anywhere, we have need of them." She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "You'll service us whenever, however we desire. In the kitchen, the living room, even out by the pool if the mood strikes us."

Irene nods in agreement, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "You're not just a pet, darling. You're our fuck toy. Our plaything, to use and enjoy as we see fit." She reaches out and unhooks your bra with a deft flick of her fingers, letting it fall away to reveal your bare breasts. Irene cups one in her hand, kneading it roughly, pinching your nipple between her fingers. "Isn't that right, pet?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod, a needy whimper escaping your lips. Irene chuckles darkly, pleased with your submission. "Good girl," she praises, giving your nipple a sharp tug before releasing it.

Seulgi grips the waistband of your panties, her fingers slipping underneath, stroking your most intimate flesh. "Remember, when you're out in the world, doing our errands, living your life, you can be whoever you want to be. Dress however you please, act however you please. But in here..." She tugs your panties down, letting them drop to the floor, leaving you bare and exposed before them. "...you belong to us. Mind, body, and soul."

Irene nods, her eyes roving hungrily over your naked form. "Understand, pet?" she asks, her voice a commanding purr.

"Yes," you breathe out, your voice trembling with anticipation and a deep, dark arousal. "I understand. I'm yours." The words fall from your lips like a prayer, a vow, a promise of devotion.

Seulgi grins, her fingers delving between your legs, stroking your slick folds, feeling the evidence of your desire. "Such a good little fuck toy," she coos, circling your clit with a maddeningly slow rhythm. "We're going to have so much fun breaking you in."

Irene leans in, her breasts pressing against your bare back as she reaches around to cup your sex, her fingers delving into your slick folds without preamble. Her fingers plunge deep inside you, pumping slowly, stretching you open, claiming you thoroughly.

Seulgi grips your chin, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck. She leans in, her tongue tracing the column of your throat before she bites down, marking you as theirs. "Your orgasms are ours," she growls against your skin, her teeth sinking in just hard enough to make you gasp. "You'll only come when we allow it, understand?"

"Y-yes," you whimper out, your hips rocking against Irene's hand, desperate for more friction, more stimulation. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and the dark promise of more.

Irene chuckles, the sound vibrating through your back as she curls her fingers inside you, stroking that special spot that makes your toes curl. "Good girl," she praises, her thumb circling your clit rapidly now, pushing you closer to the edge. "You're learning your place so quickly."

Seulgi releases your chin, only to tangle her fingers in your hair, gripping it tightly as she pulls your head back, forcing you to arch into Irene, before crashing her lips against yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. She forces her tongue into your mouth, claiming you, owning you, leaving no doubt about who you belong to now.

As she kisses you, Irene's fingers never stop their relentless assault on your pussy, pumping harder, faster, driving you towards a climax that you know you're not allowed to have. Your body tenses, your muscles pulling taut as the pleasure builds to a fever pitch inside you. Just as you're about to tumble over the edge, Irene wrenches her fingers out of you, leaving you empty and aching, a desperate keen tearing from your throat.

Irene tsks, a dark chuckle rumbling through her chest. "Not yet, pet. The test has just begun, and there is still a lot of fun to be had."

She leans in, breath hot against your ear, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And your cute little ass," Irene murmurs, delivering a sharp slap to your right cheek, the sting blooming into a pleasant warmth. "Such a perfect handful." Her fingers dig into the supple flesh, kneading it roughly before pulling your cheeks apart, exposing your most intimate hole. "This tight little asshole belongs to us too. We'll fill it, stretch it, use it for our pleasure whenever we want." Irene's finger circles your puckered entrance teasingly, the tip dipping in just slightly before pulling back out.

Seulgi captures your lips in another searing kiss, her tongue dominating yours, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as Irene is claiming your body. She nips at your bottom lip before pulling back, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. "Remember, pet, your pleasure belongs to us now. You'll beg for our touch, crave our attention, and we'll decide when you've earned it."

"Understand?" Irene asks, her voice a dark command as her finger plunges into your asshole, not giving you any warning or time to adjust as she begins pumping it in and out at a brutal pace. Your body clenches around the sudden intrusion, but Irene just chuckles wickedly, forcing you to take it.

"Yes!" you cry out, your voice raw and desperate. "Yes, I understand! I'm yours, all yours!"

"That's our good little fuck toy," Seulgi praises, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. She leans down and captures one of your nipples in her mouth, sucking hard, her teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Her hand snakes between your legs, fingers stroking through your soaked folds, teasing your clit with feather-light touches.

Irene scissors her fingers inside your ass, stretching you wider, preparing you for what's to come. "You're going to be a perfect little toy for us," she promises darkly, her thumb circling your clit rapidly, pushing you closer to the edge.

Seulgi and Irene circle around you like predators, eyeing their new prize. Irene steps forward, trailing a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. "Let's see how well you can take instruction, pet," she purrs, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "On your knees. Show us what that pretty mouth can do besides beg for more."

You quickly sink to your knees, the plush carpet beneath you soft and inviting. Irene's cock springs free as she unzips her slacks, the thick shaft bobbing before your face, already hard and leaking. You lean forward, wrapping your lips around the swollen head, your tongue swirling around it before sucking gently, savoring the salty taste of her arousal.

"Good girl," Irene coos, her fingers threading through your hair, guiding you further onto her shaft. "Such a natural little cock slut. I knew you'd love sucking my dick the moment we saw you." She pulls you down, her cock sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat as she holds you there, letting you adjust to the thickness stretching you open.

Seulgi watches with a wicked grin, slowly stroking her own impressive length as she takes in the sight of you on your knees, servicing Irene. "Look at her, Irene. Our little pet is a natural born cock whore," she says with a dark chuckle. "I can't wait to ruin her throat."

Irene pulls you off her shaft, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the swollen head. "She'll be a perfect little cock warmer for us," Irene agrees, tapping the tip of her dick against your cheek. "Won't you, pet? Always ready and willing to suck us off whenever we need relief?"

Irene and Seulgi exchange a glance, a silent agreement passing between them as they decide the blindfold has served its purpose. Irene reaches out and unties the fabric, slowly pulling it away from your eyes. As the light returns, you blink rapidly, taking in the opulent room you find yourself in. The plush carpet beneath your knees, the rich velvet curtains, the king-sized bed dominating the center of the room. And Irene and Seulgi looming over you, their eyes dark with lust and dark promise.

Seulgi leans down, cupping your chin in her hand, tilting your face up to meet her intense gaze. "Such a good girl, taking your blindfold so well," she praises, her thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips.

She unzips her slacks, freeing her girthy shaft. It bobs heavily before your face, the thick veins pulsing with need. Your eyes widen at the sheer size of her, a mix of trepidation and anticipation coursing through you. Seulgi smirks at your expression, wrapping a hand around your throat possessively as she pulls you forward, the head of her cock pushing past your lips, stretching your jaw wide.

"Open wide, little one," Irene purrs, her hand fisting in your hair, holding you steady as Seulgi pushes in deeper, her thick length invading your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease. You gag slightly, your throat convulsing around her, but Irene just holds you in place, forcing you to take more of her impressive length.

"Fuck, so tight," Seulgi groans, starting to thrust into your mouth, fucking your face with deep, powerful strokes that make your eyes water. Irene watches with a wicked grin, enjoying the sight of you being used so thoroughly.

"Our little slut is going to be the perfect cock warmer," Irene comments, reaching down to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. Her fingers find your nipple, pinching and tugging on the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Seulgi pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to her throbbing shaft. She grips your hair, pulling your head back as she slaps her heavy cock against your cheek. "Such an obedient little thing, taking me so well," she praises, her voice a dark rumble. She pushes back into your mouth, her thick shaft hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around her. Irene grins wickedly, enjoying the show, her fingers twisting your nipple harder as she watches you struggle to take Seulgi's girthy length.

"Remember pet," Irene purrs, her voice a sinful whisper against your ear, "this is just the beginning. We're going to push you to your limits and beyond. Your body will be our canvas, a plaything for us to use as we see fit."

Seulgi pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting your lips to her throbbing shaft. She grips your hair, pulling your head back as she slaps her heavy cock against your cheek, painting your face with the precum leaking from the swollen head. "You're going to be our perfect little fuck toy," she promises darkly, "ready and willing to service us anytime, anywhere."

Irene grins, palming your other breast roughly as she leans in close, her breath hot against your ear. "And the best part is, as much as we'll use you, fuck you, fill every hole until you're dripping with our cum, we'll take such good care of you too," she murmurs, her voice a sinful promise. "You'll be our treasure, our pretty little doll to cherish and defile."

Seulgi nods, rubbing the leaking head of her cock against your lips, smearing your face with her arousal. "We'll buy you pretty things, spoil you rotten, make sure this sexy body of yours is always looked after." Irene pinches your nipple harder, rolling the bud between her fingers, sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

Irene takes advantage of your open mouth, pushing two fingers past your lips, thrusting them in and out of your mouth, mimicking the motion of a cock. "Such a good little cock sleeve," Irene praises, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "I can't wait to see how well this tight cunt takes a real dicking."

Seulgi smirks, giving your ass a sharp smack, leaving a red handprint blooming across the supple flesh. "Suck," Irene commands, pushing her fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat. You obey without hesitation, sucking hard, swirling your tongue around the digits plunging in and out of your mouth.

Seulgi grips your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. The cool air against your dripping sex makes you shiver, your pussy clenching with anticipation. Irene kneels behind you, her hands gripping your ass cheeks, spreading them wide, revealing your most intimate places to their hungry gazes.

"Look at this pretty little hole," Irene murmurs, her finger circling your puckered entrance teasingly. "So tight, just begging to be stretched and filled." She pushes a finger inside, your ass clenching down, trying to suck her in deeper. Irene just chuckles, pumping slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

Seulgi kneels in front of you, gripping your chin, forcing you to meet her intense stare. "Remember pet, this ass is ours now. We'll fill it, stretch it, use it for our pleasure whenever we want." She leans in, crashing her lips against yours in a brutal, dominating kiss, her tongue invading your mouth, claiming you thoroughly. Irene adds a second finger, pumping harder, stretching you wider, preparing you for what's to come.

Irene grips your hips, pulling you back against her as she kneels behind you, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. "Spread your legs wider, slut," she commands, her voice a low growl. "Let us see that needy little cunt."

You obey without hesitation, widening your stance, revealing your dripping sex to their hungry gazes. Seulgi smirks, settling between your legs, her hands sliding up your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Such a pretty little pussy," she purrs, her fingers brushing through your soaked folds teasingly. "So wet and ready for us already."

Irene grips your ass harder, pulling your cheeks apart, exposing your tight pucker to the cool air. She leans down, her tongue dragging over the sensitive flesh, making you gasp and clench around nothing. "And this ass," Irene murmurs, her voice a dark rumble against your skin, "it's ours now. Our personal fuck hole to use and abuse as we please."

Seulgi grins wickedly, her fingers delving deeper into your dripping sex, pumping slowly, curling to hit that special spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "That's right, pet. Your holes belong to us now. We'll fill them, stretch them, ruin them for anyone else." She leans in, capturing your lips in a brutal, dominating kiss, her tongue invading your mouth, claiming you thoroughly.

Irene chuckles darkly, pressing a finger against your puckered entrance, teasing you with the promise of penetration. "We're going to fuck you until you can't walk straight," she promises, her voice a sinful whisper against your ear. "Until the only thing you can think about is pleasing us, serving us, being our perfect little cock sleeve."

Seulgi breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as she grins at you, her eyes dark with lust and dark promise. "We'll fuck you in every room of this house," she says, her fingers pumping faster, harder, driving you towards a climax you know you're not allowed to have. Irene presses a second finger into your tight hole, stretching you wider, preparing you for what's to come. "We'll fuck you in the kitchen, bent over the counter as we cook breakfast," Irene continues, her voice a dark promise. "We'll bend you over the back of the couch in the living room, the soft leather cool against your skin as we split you open on our cocks."

Seulgi captures your nipple in her mouth, sucking hard, her teeth grazing the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. Irene pumps her fingers faster, harder, curling them to hit that special spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in bliss. "Yes, please..." you whimper out, your hips rocking back against Irene's hand, desperate for more.

"Please what, slut?" Irene demands, giving your ass a sharp smack, leaving a red handprint blooming across the supple flesh. "Beg for it like a good little whore." She pushes a third finger into your tight hole, stretching you deliciously, filling you so full.

"Please, please fuck me!" you cry out, your voice raw and desperate. "Please use me, ruin me, make me your toy!" Your pussy clenches around Seulgi's fingers, dripping with your arousal, soaking her hand as she pumps into your needy cunt.

Seulgi grins wickedly, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. "Such a desperate little fuck doll," she purrs, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "We're going to break you in so good, pet. Mold this sexy body into the perfect toy for our pleasure."

Irene pulls her fingers out of your ass, leaving you empty and aching, clenching around nothing. She grips your hips, pulling you back, lining up her thick shaft with your tight pucker. "Remember, no matter where we are, no matter what we're doing, your holes are always available for us to use," Irene commands, the head of her cock pushing past your tight ring of muscle, stretching you wide around her thick girth.

Seulgi settles between your legs, her girthy shaft pressing against your dripping sex, the heat of it searing your skin. Irene grips your hips tightly, her fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass as she pushes forward, the bulbous head of her cock breaching your tight hole, stretching you impossibly wide around her.

"Fuck, so tight," Irene grunts, her voice strained with pleasure as she sinks deeper, inch after thick inch disappearing inside you, filling you completely. Your back arches, a silent moan tearing from your throat at the sudden intrusion, the delicious stretch of being so utterly full.

Seulgi takes advantage of your open mouth, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue delving deep, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as Irene is claiming your ass. She rocks her hips forward, the head of her shaft pushing past your entrance, your slick walls clenching down, trying to suck her in deeper.

Irene starts to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remains inside you, before slamming back in, burying herself to the hilt in one hard thrust. She sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with deep, powerful strokes that make your eyes roll back in bliss. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your wanton moans and cries of ecstasy.

Seulgi matches Irene's rhythm, her thick shaft plunging in and out of your dripping cunt, stretching you wide, filling you completely. Your body rocks with the force of their thrusts, tits bouncing with each snap of their hips. They fuck you in tandem, their cocks pistoning in and out of your holes, claiming you, owning you, using you for their pleasure.

Your mind goes hazy with sensation, lost in the throes of being so thoroughly taken, so completely fucked. Irene reaches around, finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in tight, rapid circles, pushing you closer to the edge. Seulgi leans down, capturing a nipple in her mouth, sucking hard, her teeth grazing the stiff peak, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Your pussy clenches around Seulgi's plunging shaft, dripping with your arousal, the wet sounds of your coupling filling the room. Irene pistons into your ass harder, her fingers digging into your hips as she chases her release, grunting with the effort of her deep strokes. "Fuck, your ass is gripping me so tightly," Irene growls, her voice strained with pleasure. "Such a perfect little cock sleeve, made to milk our dicks dry."

Seulgi grins against your breast, nipping at the soft flesh before soothing the sting with her tongue. She pounds into you harder, her thick shaft stretching your pussy deliciously, hitting that special spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "That's it, pet. Take our cocks like the needy slut you are," Seulgi commands, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in quick, rough circles, pushing you closer to the edge.

Your body trembles, your muscles pulling taut as the pleasure mounts, threatening to consume you entirely. Irene leans down, sinking her teeth into the side of your neck, marking you, claiming you as she fucks into you with wild abandon. "We're going to fill you up," Irene promises darkly, her hot breath fanning over your skin. "Pump you full of our cum, mark you as our own personal fuck toy inside and out."

Seulgi captures your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as she grinds her hips against yours, her thick shaft buried deep inside your spasming cunt. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision going white as you scream your release into Seulgi's mouth, your pussy clenching down, milking her cock for all it's worth.

Irene hilts inside you, her shaft pulsing as she finds her own climax, flooding your ass with her hot seed, painting your insides white. She grunts, her hips jerking erratically as she fills you, marking you, claiming you as hers. Seulgi follows a moment later, her shaft throbbing, pumping load after load of her thick cum deep into your cunt, joining Irene in stuffing you full.

They collapse against you, both panting, their sweat-slicked skin pressed against yours as they catch their breath. Irene and Seulgi exchange a satisfied grin over your trembling form.

Your body goes limp between them, trembling with the aftershocks of your intense climax. Irene and Seulgi hold you close, their strong arms wrapping around you, keeping you sandwiched between their sweat-slicked bodies. They press soft kisses to your skin, murmuring praise and dark promises into your ear.

"That's our good girl," Irene coos, her fingers stroking your hair almost tenderly. "Taking our cocks so well, like you were made for it."

Seulgi nods, her hand trailing down your side, cupping the curve of your hip. "Such a perfect little fuck doll," she agrees, her voice a low rumble. "We're going to have so much fun breaking you in completely."

They help you onto the bed, your body sinking into the plush mattress as they settle on either side of you. Irene and Seulgi exchange a look, a silent communication passing between them. They lean in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing together, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Their hands roam your body, caressing every curve and contour, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. They touch you like you're a precious treasure, a toy they intend to cherish and defile in equal measure. Irene's fingers find your breast, kneading the soft flesh, rolling your nipple between her fingers until it pebbles under her touch.

Seulgi's hand drifts lower, skimming over your stomach, dipping into your dripping sex. She circles your clit teasingly, her fingers slick with the combined essence of your releases. "Such a messy little slut," she purrs, holding up her coated fingers, the sight of your juices dripping down her digits making your pussy clench with renewed need. "Look how well you took us, pet. Like a proper little cock sleeve."

Irene and Seulgi exchange a triumphant grin, their eyes sparkling with dark satisfaction as they take in your thoroughly fucked form splayed out between them. They gaze at you with a mix of possessive pride and hungry anticipation, knowing they've found the perfect plaything in you.

"We did well, pet," Irene murmurs, her voice a low, approving rumble as her fingers trail over your cheek almost affectionately. "You've passed the test with flying colors."

Seulgi nods, her hand squeezing your hip, pulling you impossibly closer. "Such an obedient little fuck doll," she agrees, her voice dripping with dark approval. "We knew you were the one for us from the moment we laid eyes on you."

Irene smiles wickedly, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue invading your mouth, claiming you once more. She pulls back after a long moment, her eyes glinting with wicked promise. "Welcome to your new life, slut. We're going to have so much fun breaking in our perfect little toy."

Seulgi joins in the kiss, her lips finding yours, her own tongue tangling with Irene's as they plunder your mouth. They pull back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. "Get some rest now, pet," she murmurs, her fingers stroking your hair almost tenderly. "You'll need it for what we have planned next."

Irene smirks, her hand drifting down to your breast, squeezing the soft mound roughly. "Sweet dreams, our pretty little fuck doll. Tomorrow, your real training begins." She winks salaciously, the promise of what's to come hanging heavily in the air.

79 notes · View notes

amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

Text

P.S.T INTERLUDES. 2 | Deep in the Willow

Male reader x Seulgi, Wendy

10.2k words

tags: sorrow( :( ), whipped cream, threesome, anal, fucktoy wendy

━•✦•━•✦•━

"So? How's Europe?"

Rina was on the other side of the screen on FaceTime with you. She was in London, the second stop on the European leg of Aespa's tour. The cute angel looked tired, her hair loose and somewhat disheveled, already dressed in the blue pajamas she loved as she spoke to you at length about her recent experiences.

"And god, Minjeong has been clingier than usual!" Rina said in an exasperated tone. "Not having you around makes it a damn group task to keep her from going crazy."

"Speaking of not having any of us around…" You took a moment to consider the words, aware of how sensitive the subject was for everyone. "How's the new manager? I imagine the change hasn't been easy."

Rina's expression darkened as she looked down. It pained her to remember that Jihye was no longer her manager as much as it pained you to not have her by your side.

"Well… he's not Jihye, but he takes good care of us," Rina looked up. "At least he doesn't ask me to give him head. That's good."

You both burst out laughing at the memory.

"You can't complain, though," you pointed out. "That little favor led to those nights in Miami. I wouldn't trade anything for it."

"That's true," Rina smiled, and you heard her bedroom door open. "We have to do that again. You know, when the tide goes out a little."

"Jimin-ah!" you heard Minjeong say. "It's supposed to be girls' night and you're here. You said we'd watch Little Women!"

"Coming, coming!" Rina said. She squealed when one of the girls tickled her as a threat. "We were just catching up! We're leaving now."

Minjeong pulled Rina away from her own phone to say hello. Ning and then Aeri joined her on either side to do the same.

"How have you been, darling?" Ning asked.

Damn, what a question. How were you? Being in the eye of the storm day after day hadn't let you stop and think about it. It seemed crazy, but it wasn't. You didn't really know how you were. That's what happened when you were busy all the time: your mental health took a backseat, like going on autopilot through life. Honestly, you didn't know if that was good or bad.

"I've been fine, dear," you opted to say. "At least I'd like to think so."

Minjeong took the whole frame to herself.

"Any news about Jihye?" she asked, hoping for good news.

Another difficult question. Only you were expecting that one, and you were dreading it. You couldn't blame Minjeong for asking it; after all, she must still be feeling guilty about the whole thing.

Three months had passed since the events at the airport, and aside from rumors that were just rumors and the occasional leaked message from Gunwook, Jihye's existence had come to feel like a mere dream. Something that was once too good and beautiful to be true. Something that had been taken away from you.

Because yes, she was taken away from you. From you and the girls.

You took a deep breath and searched your phone for the last message Gunwook had given you about her.

"And I quote: Jihye and Irene are fine," you said. "She misses the girls and is constantly watching fancams and supporting them from Seoul. She also wanted me to tell you all that technically she was still your boss, just a few steps above you. So you better not disappoint her."

When you exited the messaging app and zoomed in on FaceTime again, you were met with faces full of mixed emotions.

"Oh… okay," Minjeong said. "Well, it's good to know we still have her support."

"I really miss her…" Ning added softly.

And a silence fell between you.

"I'll keep you updated, I promise," you said after a few seconds. "But right now you have a movie to watch and I have work to do."

The girls said their goodbyes one by one, Rina being the last. And so, your video call with the girls ended.

Bringing you back to the harsh and exhausting reality.

Shortly after the pool party, work had you by the throat with a grip that wouldn't loosen. Just as Gunwook and Jihye had anticipated some time ago, the level of paranoia among the upper management after the incident with the reporter had skyrocketed. Now they had you hunting down college boys and forcing them to cut off all contact with idols or trainees from their companies.

Interestingly, JYP was the complete opposite, considerably more flexible and permissive. They were somewhat strict, as you'd expect, but they were everything the other agencies weren't: humane. That confirmed to you that all this time, Gunwook had indeed been on the right side of history and was truly putting his effort into his fight to give idols decent lives. Thank god he was winning it.

That was a relief, because over the past three months, the two of you had become more than just coworkers; you could now call each other a friend. It would have been a shame to throw that away if he had turned out to be another heartless maniac.

And speaking of JYP, ITZY started preparing for their world tour not long after the pool party.

The stress was making them all miserable, but it was Lia who, sadly, finally gave in to the pressure and requested a hiatus so she could take care of her mental health after so many years of working day and night nonstop. She would be close to her family, right where she needed to be to heal, so you remained calm about it, knowing everything would be okay for her.

But that didn't mean you didn't miss her like crazy. Lia was one of those rays of sunshine who always helped you move forward, and now it was the ray of sunshine who needed help to move forward. It broke your heart, and you couldn't do anything but pray for her return as soon as possible.

Other than that, the only thing you could do while the girls were all on tour was throw yourself into your new job. Nayeon and Chaeyeon had been trying to distract you from that from time to time, and while they had usually succeeded, the most common thing was for you to joke about them having to make an appointment with your receptionist first.

The same receptionist who, at that time of the afternoon, was helping you with your notes. Being on the dirty side of the industry, Gunwook had suggested you keep a file as a burn book, and one of the day's tasks had basically been to update the records to stay current.

Of course, you weren't stupid. The file contained a long list of many things the agencies wanted kept secret that only a few of you knew, so the most sensible thing was to give code names to each of the idols involved in each case. Western names, mostly. And the password for that file was saved in a notebook in your personal safe.

You were just doing that last thing. But as you were entering the safe combination to store the notebook, your phone vibrated on your desk. Gunwook was the one calling.

It wasn't uncommon for him to call at that time of the afternoon, so you quickly assumed he'd either invite you over for drinks and karaoke, or invite you over to his house to show off his collection of fine liquors. So you took the call without fear.

"Hello?" you answered, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you continued doing what you were doing.

"Hey man," Gunwook said. "Look, I hate to make this call, but it's best to give you a heads-up."

Well, and there went all your hope for a peaceful, normal call.

"You're going to get a call soon, from my namesake at HYBE. I'm sure you remember him from the airport."

"Uh… yeah, I remember him. Unfortunately," you said, closing the safe and signaling for your receptionist to leave.

"Well, what he's going to ask you to do tomorrow is probably the most messed up thing you've done so far."

"Gunwook, you're scaring me," You sat up straighter in your seat and leaned back.

"Tomorrow you'll have to go to the HYBE building, using the same underground parking garage as always so as not to attract attention. And listen to me carefully," his tone became more imperative, but also lower. "You can't, and you won't, talk to the girl you're picking up. She'll be wearing a mask, cap and sunglasses, so you won't know who she is."

Suddenly, a chill ran through you. The words stuck in your mouth, and already feeling anxious, you stood up to pace slowly around your office.

"Look, this shit sounds wrong, Gunwook. What the fuck am I getting myself into?"

"You're going to take her to a clinic, and before you get her out, you're going to make sure there's only the necessary personnel inside for her… operation."

"So much secrecy for a simple cosmetic surgery?" you asked. "I've already taken idols to appointments like that. What's the difference here?"

"This isn't plastic surgery we're talking about, kid," Gunwook said, his voice shaking throughout the sentence.

That alone was enough to make reality hit you like a speeding truck. The chills returned, and with them the unpleasant feeling of your stomach crumpling like a cardboard bag.

"You don't have to say anything else, Gun," you said. "The topic is difficult for me to broach, let alone for you with your religious beliefs."

"You have no idea," Gunwook sighed. "The decision wasn't mine, but my priest will definitely find out about this at my next confession."

There was a much-needed silence between you.

"I know this is heavy, kid," Gunwook began again, his voice calmer now. "But we need you to be a professional tomorrow. With something this delicate, you're going to be under scrutiny all day, and yes, they're going to be on your trail too. I also recommend you don't write this down in your notes; it'll be like it never happened."

Just as he finished speaking, you received a second call. An unknown number. It had to be him.

"It's happening, dude," you said. "I'll call you back later."

"Sure. Good luck, bro. And God bless."

With that, you hung up on Gunwook and answered the other one.

As you expected, the HYBE representative told you everything Gunwook had already told you you would do, but lacked the tact with which your friend spoke about it. He even mentioned that the root of the problem had been this girl and her stupid boyfriend not using protection. To the surprise of no one.

The son of a bitch sounded like a robot: not a hint of emotion as he talked about the matter. He didn't sound worried, or disturbed, or anything. He didn't care at all. It was fucking sickening to hear him talk, especially since he talked about the girl—whom you decided to call Rosemary—as if she were a damn animal.

All you could hope for was that one day karma would knock on that bastard's door and force him to testify.

The weight of what was going to happen tomorrow fell heavily and oppressively on your shoulders on the ride home. You were one of those who believed that women could do whatever they wanted with their bodies, and that the decision was solely theirs. But in this case, you felt like the decision was everyone's but hers.

For the love of God, poor girl.

Much to your chagrin, you had to swallow all your worries and go with the flow. You were in the middle of a war, and as low and mean as that seemed to you, there were battles better lost. So tomorrow you'd be a good soldier and do whatever was asked of you.

But fuck. Poor girl. All because she was an imperfect human, like you and everyone else. The only difference was that, in Rosemary's case, she'd chosen the wrong industry in which to make mistakes.

The next morning, you arrived punctually at the meeting point designated by the HYBE representative: the underground entrance to the main building, which was accessible only with prior authorization. You parked right in front of the exit, as instructed.

Anxiety was eating away at you from the inside. Over time, you'd trained your stomach to cope with the pressure of dealing with these kinds of situations. But this absolutely surpassed all extremes. There was nothing about it that felt right or normal.

The demons didn't keep you waiting long. A couple of minutes after your arrival, a security guard came out, escorting a girl who perfectly matched the description Gunwook had given you. Rosemary hurried to follow the path the security guard indicated, head down and arms crossed as she was ushered into the backseat of the sedan you had rented for the day.

When the girl settled into the seat, the guard closed the door and approached your window, which you had to roll down. He bent down and rested a forearm on the edge of the window.

"Look, kid, I don't think I need to remind you how crucial it is that everything goes smoothly today," his tone of voice was subtle and kind, but you could see in his eyes that he was trying to intimidate you. "You can't, and you won't screw this up. There will be zero tolerance."

He then took a folded piece of paper out of his front jacket pocket and handed it to you.

"That's the address you'll be going," he pointed as you opened the paper. "Don't even think about using the GPS. Just follow the street signs."

"Understood," you nodded. "There'll be no problem."

"Good. Get out of here."

The guard stepped back and signaled for you to get going.

According to the address they'd given you, and according to your calculations, it would take you around 15 minutes to get there. 15 minutes in which you'd have to deal with the awkward silence inside the car, because you couldn't talk to her, and you also couldn't play music because it would be too out of place.

It was going to be a fucking horrible ride.

There was a huge chasm between you and Rosemary. No connection at all. When you got a taxi, the driver would at least try to make conversation once in a while, or play the radio at a considerable volume to keep the atmosphere pleasant. But at that moment, all you were forced to hear was the sound of the engine running and the air conditioning. Nothing else. It was unbearable. And it must have been even worse for her.

The worst part wasn't that, but the uncomfortable feeling that you weren't transporting a sentient person. The mask, the cap, the sunglasses, and the fact that she remained silent the entire trip certainly didn't help either. Rosemary was being treated like a disposable object, and that was exactly the feeling all of this gave you. Fuck, you just wanted it to end soon.

Your calculations were correct, and you arrived at the clinic about 15 minutes later. It wasn't exactly a seedy place, but it wasn't the kind of clinic a famous person would go to for medical problems.

"Stay here for a moment, please," you said to Rosemary, breaking the silence after all that time. "I'll pick you up right away."

Rosemary didn't say anything, just nodded distractedly.

Getting out of the car, you went straight into the clinic and followed the protocol they'd given you to the letter. You'd been told the staff was already aware of everything, so your job was to make sure everyone remembered the importance of everything running smoothly that day. Part of the job also involved questioning the nurses specifically, to prevent any potential leaks. You weren't going to be in charge of the doctors; coercing them would be the job of your superiors.

After making sure the staff was trustworthy, you left the clinic and opened the car door for Rosemary to get out. Then you escorted her inside, looking in every possible direction for onlookers. But even four eyes in your back couldn't have saved you from the car that was parking behind yours at that very moment. Instantly, a man you didn't recognize got out.

Then you remembered what Gunwook had told you: 'They're going to be on your trail too.'

Fuck, they were good. More than once, you'd looked in the car's rearview mirror to see if anyone was following you, and not once had you seen that car. Terrifying.

You simply motioned for Rosemary to walk inside. You followed her.

The nurses quickly took care of her, directing you to sit and wait on some benches near the reception desk. Anxious for everything to go well and your heart pounding, you nodded and sat down for a wait that seemed like an eternity. You weren't one to overthink things, but hundreds of ways this could somehow go wrong ran through your mind.

Fortunately, the doctor came out of the operating room half an hour later to tell you that everything had gone perfectly, and that she would be discharged in about an hour. Only then did you allow yourself to relax.

"So…" the doctor folded his hands behind his back. "About the payment?"

"Uhm…" you frowned. You had assumed HYBE had already taken care of that.

The doctor and you turned your heads toward the clinic entrance when the man who'd parked behind you walked in, a duffle bag in his hand, presumably full of money.

"Every won is in here, doc," the man said, placing the duffle bag on the ground. "With a little something extra as a thank you for your professionalism."

"Thank you," the doctor bowed and took the bag without hesitation.

"Now you know the drill: I need every tool you used to dispose of them. Including what was already discarded."

"Sure," the doctor nodded.

He turned to signal one of the nurses, who shortly returned with everything packed in vacuum-sealed ziplock bags, which were then handed to the HYBE man.

"Excellent. Pleasure doing business," the HYBE man now turned to you. "You're almost there, kid. Keep going and don't do anything stupid. I have plans tonight, and I wouldn't want to cancel because I have to clean up your messes."

"Whatever you say, man," you replied, already mentally exhausted, perhaps in a less than friendly tone. "I know what I'm doing."

"You better."

The man then turned around and left the way he'd come in. A few seconds later, you heard his car start and speed off down the street.

An hour passed until Rosemary finally emerged from the operating room, flanked by two nurses who had been guiding her.

The sight of the poor girl broke your heart.

Rosemary walked with her head down, slightly hunched over, hugging herself, her steps somewhat unsteady. As she got closer, you could notice her hands were shaking. In another context, you would have assumed she had some kind of severe concussion, but on second thought, the apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

For the love of god, what the hell was wrong with the world? That was exactly what a girl whose decision about her body had been ignored, trampled on, and spat on looked like. You would have said she looked fragile, but no.

That girl was already broken.

"All set to go, ma’am?" you asked one of the nurses.

"Yes, sir," a nurse nodded. "Make sure she doesn't get too agitated."

"It'll be no problem, thank you very much," you motioned for Rosemary to walk ahead of you. "Good afternoon."

And so, in a matter of minutes, you were back at the HYBE building, a journey that was uneventful but had left you feeling unpleasantly sick.

When you parked in front of the same underground entrance, you heard a girl talking. You thought it was someone outside the car, but when you listened closely, you realized it was Rosemary talking. Some medication must have loosened her tongue.

"This is bullshit," Rosemary said to herself with a chuckle. "I didn't do anything the other girls didn't do. Nothing. I just had bad luck. It's fucking bullshit…"

Your orders were not to speak to the girl, and you did your best to hold your tongue.

"I probably would have made that decision myself," Rosemary continued. "But it all happened so fast I didn't even have time to think about it."

There was another long pause. The HYBE employee was taking his considerable time appearing.

"So much work… so much effort put into all of this," Rosemary's voice cracked, and even you could feel the lump in her throat. "It was my dream. Fuck… it was my dream…" she sobbed. "All wasted for 20 minutes under the covers. I'm an idiot."

Your stomach lurched. You looked out the window, biting your nails, your face dismayed. It was so painful to hear her blame herself, so heartbreaking, that you couldn't help but glance at her in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, you can still debut," you said. "You'll be able to handle all of this, I'm sure. Lean on your other trainees…"

Rosemary started laughing through her tears.

"I can tell you're new on this side of the pond," she mocked. "A little naive and too sweet. I appreciate your concern, but my fate is already sealed. The company agreed to settle my debt in exchange for signing an NDA, and then they'll fabricate a bullying scandal in my name to get me out of the group. Simple as that."

Then finally, the same HYBE employee from a few hours ago came out to pick up Rosemary.

"Wait a second here," he said as Rosemary got out of the car.

The man motioned for Rosemary to come inside the building with him. And that was the last time you saw her.

He returned a few minutes later, carrying a duffle bag similar to the one given to the doctor, but not much smaller. He placed it on the passenger seat.

"Good job today, kid," he said, and without further ado, he walked back inside.

When the man disappeared from your sight, you opened the bag a little to confirm what it was: money, and quite a bit of it. As always, it was going to be a pain to declare it to the tax authorities, but thanks to Gunwook, you had made some contacts that would make things easier.

However, money was the least of your problems at that moment.

Despite having already finished the job, the bad feeling wouldn't go away. Not even when on the way home you'd put on some music in the car to try to wash your brain of the memories of that day. It was useless; you were on autopilot, unable to feel good even knowing that none of it was your fault and that there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.

It was a call from Gunwook that brought you back to reality at a stoplight.

"Hi," you answered halfheartedly.

"Hey bro, how are you holding up?" Gunwook asked.

You sighed, staring blankly at the red light. A light drizzle had begun to fall at that time of the afternoon, even though it was almost October and the rainy season had already passed.

"How do you think?"

"Sure, it was a stupid question, sorry."

"Nah, you good."

"I don't feel much better than you, if that helps, but hey, did you eat already?"

"I plan on doing it when I get home. I don't feel like stopping to eat anywhere right now."

"You can come over tonight if you want," Gunwook said. "You know, we'll grill some steaks and have a drink, and my wife can make us a salad."

"Honestly, I think what I need is time at home. I…"

"That'll work!" Gunwook interrupted. "I can take the steaks and beer over there."

"Gun, I appreciate it, but no. I just want to unwind."

"Well… okay," Gunwook finally relented, hesitantly. "Anyway, I'm just a phone call away, buddy."

"I know, thanks. Have a nice afternoon."

You hung up and waited a few more seconds until the light turned green again.

Once you got home, you went straight to the couch and sat down, surrounded by a cold and profound silence, wondering how much longer you could endure all that fucking torment. After all, the person you were willing to do all this for in the first place didn't show even the slightest hint of caring. So what was the point?

Your sense of time vanished as you sat there, sunk in the middle of a moral dilemma that was starting to give you a headache. Your stomach growled, but you didn't have the strength to get up and cook anything. You didn't even change your position during the thirty minutes you were dissociating.

But a soft, unusual knock on your door awakened all your senses, completely certain that you were now a loose end that they, the demons, needed to burn. It was probably just your paranoia, but you had reason to believe such a thing. At that point, you saw them as capable of anything.

The heaviest object within reach was an acoustic guitar Chaery had given you a while back. You picked it up by the neck and walked toward the door as cautiously as possible. Two more knocks, and you were already preparing to smash the guitar over someone's head.

"Hey, we know you're there," you heard… Seulgi? say from the other side of the door. "Don't play hard to get."

Of all the voices you expected to hear that night, Seulgi's certainly wasn't one of them. After leaning the guitar against the wall next to the door, you opened it to find two beauties standing in the doorway.

"Hey tiger, long time no see, huh?" Wendy greeted, as Seulgi threw her arms around your neck and hugged you.

The thoughts of wanting to be alone in your bubble of misery and dismay disappeared when you saw Wendy smile and when you wrapped your arms around Seulgi's body.

But the fact that the two of them were there, at that time of day and after everything that had happened, seemed suspicious. Something didn't fit.

"Wait a minute," you pulled away from Seulgi, somewhat distracted by the fact that they were both wearing outfits that left their midriffs exposed. "How did you know my day was a total mess?"

Seulgi placed her hand on your chest and led you inside. Wendy, being the last to enter, closed the door behind her.

"We don't know all the details," Seulgi began as you hugged Wendy. "And maybe this isn't what you want to hear right now, but Gunwook called Jihye and told her he was worried about you."

Wendy went to sit on your couch when you gestured for her to sit. Seulgi walked beside you, following the same path.

"He told her that today you'd have to do something you'd never had to do before and that he knew it would affect you," Seulgi sat down next to Wendy, and you sat down next to her. "After talking to Gunwook, Jihye shared her concern with Irene, and as soon as Irene got some time alone she called us and asked us to come check on you."

Knowing that Jihye still cared about you made you feel like an idiot. How could you even dare doubt the most wonderful woman you'd ever met? It was even insulting to the memory you had of her. Never again.

But Irene?

Was she showing signs of being a real, sentient person? Or was this just another one of her tricks? It's not like you held a furious grudge against her, but anything she did was enough to make you doubt her. It wasn't your fault, though; she'd earned that reputation the hard way.

"What, are you surprised it was Irene who sent us here?" Seulgi asked, curious by your silence. "I told you she wasn't all evil."

"She also forbade us from telling Jihye we were coming to see you," Wendy added. "She didn't want you to think it was a way to curry favor with you. She really does care about you."

Irene legitimately worried about you? Wow, that sounded idyllic. It was something to behold.

"And I thought nothing could surprise me anymore," you said, slumped in your seat with your arms crossed. "But it seems you all have tricks up your sleeves."

Then you began to share your day with them, perhaps skipping details and not explaining yourself very well on some things, but in a way that helped you vent and process everything with a cool head and out of the fire. Wendy and Seulgi listened attentively to every word, careful not to interrupt you more than necessary. When you finished letting out everything you were feeling, Wendy kissed your cheek and stood up to go to the kitchen, rummage through your pantry, and start making dinner for the three of you.

Seulgi snuggled up against you, her head resting on your collarbone on the left side, wrapped in your arm.

"I'm so sorry you're having to go through all this, darling," Seulgi said after a while, wrapping an arm around your abdomen to hug you. "And believe me, I'm just as devastated as you are for that poor girl." She turned her head to look at you closely. "But beating ourselves up about it won't get us anywhere."

"You knew this wasn't going to be an easy road and that you were going to need some serious balls to get through it. I have faith in you and your desire to help all these people, and I love your nobility. But it won't happen overnight, sweetheart. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You remained silent, not quite sure what to say to such kind words. Seulgi understood, and being the care bear she was, she only hugged you tighter. You hugged her back and closed your eyes.

"Thank you, little bear," you sighed. "In case I haven't thanked you enough for everything."

"I don't need you to. You deserve everything for always being so sweet to us."

"Guys, dinner's ready!" Wendy said from the kitchen behind you. "Come on."

You and Seulgi stood up and went to sit at the dining table. Wendy had prepared chicken wraps with orange juice, something quick and delicious that she knew you'd love.

Wendy carried the plates to the table and sat across from you, Seulgi to your left. Then, you proceeded to eat while catching up. You hadn't seen Wendy in a while, so it was only natural that she did most of the talking throughout dinner.

The levity of the conversation managed to wash away all the bad feelings you had after the events of that day. It was strange, but lately, there were very frequent moments when you stopped to appreciate the wonderful friendships you'd made and all the good things that had happened to you thanks to the questionable career decisions you'd made so far. You were extremely lucky for that.

But at that moment, all your gratitude was directed toward those two women who were eating with you that night. Who knows where your thoughts would have gone if they hadn't shown up? The range of stupid decisions was wide, and every one of them ended with you either at a severe disadvantage or potentially in a black bag in the Han River.

Blessed were Jihye and Irene, after all.

"Hey, aren't you hungrier by any chance?" Wendy asked half an hour later, when you'd finished eating and talking.

"Hungrier?" you asked. "Why?"

"I don't know…" you heard Wendy take off her sneakers, and a moment later, you felt one of her feet on your inner right thigh. "I'm kind of hungry for more than just food."

Seulgi placed her hand on your other thigh, and you turned to face her. Where had her black jacket gone?

"I think me too, you know?" Seulgi said. Her fingers tightened on your thigh, and her hand moved up to grope your bulge. "I guess it's because I didn't have lunch today."

"You guys are big eaters then, aren't you?" you asked, as Wendy rubbed one of your thighs with her foot and Seulgi worked you up with her hand.

"Only on very specific days," Seulgi replied, and when you wrapped your left arm around her back to hold her waist, she kissed you.

Seulgi immediately unbuttoned your pants, unzipped your zipper, and pulled your hard cock out of your boxers, wrapping her fingers around it and slowly moving her wrist. Wendy added to the equation by lifting her foot slightly and rubbing the back of your shaft and your balls with her toes.

Since you found it impossible to stay still with Kang Seulgi by your side, you brought your right hand to her perfect tummy and caressed it with your fingertips before undoing her belt, unbuttoning her pants, and reaching in to rub her pussy over her panties.

Seulgi let out a soft moan against your lips and cupped the side of your face with her left hand, while the other moved off your cock to unzip her pants, pull down the top of her pink crop top and pull up the bottom so it was bunched up just below her breasts, which were currently covered by a black bra.

Wendy took advantage of Seulgi's release of your cock and leaned back in the chair to lift her other leg, take your shaft between her feet, and move them up and down.

Seconds later, Seulgi's panties became slightly wet from you rubbing circles on her clit. You then took your hand out of her pants, and before moving it to her breasts, you used your left hand to unclasp her bra, revealing those pretty mounds. Seulgi bit your lip and sighed when you pinched one of her nipples, returning her hand to your cock.

"Do you have any whipped cream?" you heard Wendy ask with a moan.

Frowning, you broke away from Seulgi's lips to turn to look at her; the question seemed odd to you. Wendy had already removed her black crop top and bra. Only her necklace remained, the cross perfectly positioned between her small, bare breasts.

Wendy just looked you in the eye and bit her lower lip. You didn't need any further explanation; you got it immediately.

"In the fridge," you replied. "I just bought it yesterday."

Wendy smirked, slid her legs off your lap, and stood up to go to the kitchen. Meanwhile, you and Seulgi stood up and walked over to the couch to kiss again. Seulgi grabbed the hem of your pants and boxers and pulled them both down. Returning the gesture, you took care of her pants and panties, and also took off your sweater so that both of you were naked.

Seulgi pushed you down onto the couch, then straddled you to cradle your face and deepen the kiss. Her pussy ground against your cock, and she ground her hips slowly to rub it between her wet folds. Your hands immediately went to grope her firm ass.

"Dessert is served!" Wendy said, standing behind you. "Come here, unnie."

Seulgi pulled away from your lips and looked up. You both looked at Wendy, who was holding the tub of whipped cream. Seulgi smiled and straightened her back, sticking out her chest so Wendy could cover her tits with whipped cream.

Wendy tapped you on the back of the neck with her middle finger.

"Come on, you know what to do," she urged.

Maybe your memory was failing at the moment, but you couldn't remember a single time you'd done that. Seulgi's tits looked stupidly hot, tho, and you loved whipped cream, reason enough to lean your head forward and start licking and sucking as slowly as you could.

Seulgi seemed to like it as much as you did, letting out small, muffled moans as she held the back of your neck, her fingers tugging at strands of your hair. Wendy joined you on the couch, sitting on your left side, completely naked except for her necklace. She knelt up and poured whipped cream on her small tits, so when you were finished with Seulgi, you could move on to hers.

Wendy moaned and wrapped her arms around your neck as you licked the whipped cream off her perky little nipples. Seulgi climbed off you and sat on your right side, grabbing the can of whipped cream and pouring just a little on the tip of your cock. Then, she bent down, licked it, and wrapped her lips around it to suck a few inches of your shaft.

"Hmm, I want to do that too," Wendy gasped. "Stand up."

You obeyed and stood in front of the couch. Seulgi and Wendy sat back on their heels, side by side, and both leaned toward your cock to lick and kiss it from different sides. It was Wendy who grabbed the can of whipped cream to pour it in a straight line from your base to your tip, and without a second's hesitation, she opened her mouth and took a sizable portion of your shaft inside until her lips closed and moved up. There was a bit of cream left near your base, but Seulgi was quick to lick it off.

Wendy sucked your cock with sensual pumps of her head, savoring the whipped cream she had collected as Seulgi poured more cream onto the few inches of your shaft that Wendy couldn't reach, using her tongue to lick it clean and suck on it.

When Wendy pulled out of her mouth, Seulgi took her place, sucking on almost the same number of inches of your cock as Wendy, who moved down to cup your balls, fill them with whipped cream, and bring them to her mouth. You moaned, one hand on both heads. You watched them have fun with your cock for a few minutes, letting them slurp and lick as much whipped cream as they wanted from it. Soon your cock was slick and saliva-soaked.

"Would you let me have a little fun too?" you asked, taking the can of whipped cream from Seulgi's hand.

"Oh sure, baby," Seulgi smiled, turning her back on you to lean forward and rest her hands on the back of the couch, her beautiful ass now at your mercy.

Wendy imitated her, and in a few seconds, both beauties were on all fours on your couch. The temptation to fuck them right away was there, but the desire to taste those asses and pussies was even bigger. So, you started by swirling whipped cream twice over each of Seulgi's buttocks, then bent your knees, grabbed her thighs, and licked the cream off, adding kisses and bites.

Moving to Wendy, you spanked her buttocks a couple of times and made her squeal, knowing she loved spanks. Then, on the red marks your hands had left, you poured cream the same way you did with Seulgi and repeated the process.

"Fuck, you must be in heaven, right?" Seulgi asked with a chuckle.

"You have no idea," you smiled, delighting in licking and kissing Wendy's cute, tight asshole. "And I haven't even eaten your pussies yet."

"Then what are you waiting for, hunk?" Wendy asked, looking over her shoulder at you. "Can't you see how wet you've got me?"

"What, needy already?" you asked back. "I can tell we haven't seen each other in months."

"Oh god, shut your mouth and… oh fuck yes," Wendy moaned when you grabbed her ass cheeks and brought your mouth to her pussy. "That's it, that's exactly it."

You gave Wendy a quick taste, licking and kissing between her folds. You also allowed yourself to move up a bit and pay attention to her butthole, making her moan louder since that was one of her sensitive spots.

"Hey, cutie," Seulgi called. "Over here."

Turning around, you found Seulgi spread-eagled, her head resting on the armrest at the end of the couch. Her pussy was covered in a line of whipped cream. Unable to resist, you moved away from Wendy and knelt on the floor in front of Seulgi, grabbing her thighs and wiping the cream off her pussy with a single upward lick.

Wendy lay between Seulgi and the back of the couch and hugged her, attacking her neck with kisses. Seulgi moaned, one hand in your hair as you savored the cream and ate her pussy, and the other cupping Wendy's face as she kissed her.

Seconds later, Wendy and Seulgi's lips met. The two women shared a passionate and sensual kiss, groping each other. Wendy rubbed Seulgi's clit, and Seulgi played with Wendy's small tits. The scene made your cock throb, especially seeing that pair of perfect tummies side by side.

Something occurred to you.

You left Seulgi's pussy and knelt in front of them, grabbing the can of whipped cream and pouring three lines on Seulgi's belly. You leaned down, grabbed her waist, and licked the sweet cream directly from her firm flesh. You did the same with Wendy, savoring the cream while you covered her toned abdomen with wet kisses and licks.

After indulging in that little treat, you went a little higher and, leaving the whipped cream aside, brought both pairs of tits to your mouth again. Seulgi reached down and grabbed your cock to rub it. Wendy, for her part, had you by the side of your neck while you were focused on her. A minute later, you rose up towards their faces, and the three of you merged into a dirty, saliva-filled triple kiss.

"Mmm, I'm assuming you're going to want to get fucked first, right?" you asked Wendy seconds later. "Seulgi can't protest; she already paid me a visit a few days ago."

Seulgi frowned.

"I don't know how that has to do with…"

"You're assuming right, sweetie," Wendy nodded, ignoring Seulgi. "You must be missing one of your favorite tight pussies, aren't you?"

"You can't imagine," you gave her a small kiss. "Wanna ride me?"

"No, right now I want you to pound my pussy like you've been saving that energy for all the days we haven't seen each other," Wendy replied, looking into your eyes with every word.

Wendy knelt up so you could wrap your arm around her small body and carry her to the opposite side of the couch, laying her on her back and spreading her legs. You spit on your cock to lubricate it, and without wasting much more time, you placed the tip inside Wendy's pussy and slowly pushed forward.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," Wendy gasped, watching as you buried every inch inside her tight pussy until it bulged her abdomen. "Oh my god, wait," she writhed with a hand on your abdomen. "You're the biggest thing I've ever had inside me, and it's been too long."

Seulgi moved to the other end of the couch, which had a wider space, and got on her hands and knees, facing you, her face directly above Wendy's. She stroked her beautiful short brown hair and grabbed Wendy's face to force her to look at you.

"Ask him to fuck you really hard, go on," Seulgi said in a low, silky voice. "I know you're ready. You just like feeling him stretch you from the inside out."

Wendy looked you straight in the eyes as you held her left thigh against hers and left the other loose. Her face was flushed, making her pale skin look even prettier.

"Fuck me really, really hard, sweetie," Wendy moaned, caressing your abdomen with her fingertips. "My pussy needs it. I need it."

Fuck, you'd almost forgotten how submissive Wendy had always been.

"Don't beg anymore, gorgeous," you said with the same gentleness Seulgi had used, starting to slowly move your hips. "You know I always spoil you."

With that, you spent only a few seconds fucking her pussy slowly until you drastically increased your speed, making Wendy smother moans against Seulgi's lips. Her tiny waist was your initial point of grip, digging your fingers hard into her flesh as you shook her petite body with hard, fast thrusts.

Seulgi quickly grew aroused just watching you fuck Wendy and let out little moans as well. She leaned forward over Wendy's body, lowering her head to suck and lick her tits. Her ass looked really inviting from there, with that beautiful back arched above Wendy's face.

Wendy started moaning louder when Seulgi reached out a hand and began rubbing circles on her clit, in perfect sync with your strong pumping. Seulgi then looked at Wendy's abdomen, which bulged every time your cock went all the way into her pussy, and leaned forward a little further to kiss that constantly rising portion of flesh.

As the seconds passed, Wendy had her first orgasm, arching her back loudly and hugging Seulgi's body on top of her. You heard her muffle her moans against something, but it was Seulgi's face twisting that made you realize it was her pussy.

"Oh girl, you shouldn't have done that," Seulgi gasped, and turned around to straddle Wendy's face, pinning her arms with her knees. She leaned forward, arching her back again so you could see in detail how Wendy ate her pussy. "You keep at it, champ. She's loving every second of this."

You went from holding Wendy's waist to her thighs, pressing both of them against her torso as you gradually resumed your rhythm. Soon you were pounding her pussy again, so hard that it made her breathing ragged and her nails digging into Seulgi's ass.

Wendy had another orgasm not long after. Her whimpers, muffled against Seulgi's tender, wet flesh, were like music to your ears as you gently fucked her and she squirmed her hips. She instinctively moved one of her feet to your mouth, and of course you accepted it with kisses and sucks on her big toe.

"Don't you think it's my turn now, baby?" Seulgi asked, knowing her ass looked irresistible from that spot.

You pulled out of Wendy's pussy and crawled over her until you were kneeling above her chest, just behind Seulgi's ass. Wendy's first instinct was to capture your balls with her mouth, giving them light suction and licking. But then she grabbed your cock herself and guided it into Seulgi's pussy.

"Fuck, what a view," Wendy said, watching your cock force its way between Seulgi's walls from below. "I fucking love being bisexual."

Wendy continued licking your balls and the underside of your cock until you buried every inch inside Seulgi. Then her focus shifted to her unnie's pussy. Seulgi moaned, both from feeling your cock stretching her and from Wendy's licking. You were just as overwhelmed with pleasure as she was.

"Thank god she's such a good girl," Seulgi moaned, propped up on her elbows. She was looking forward as she ran her hand through her hair.

With Seulgi, you prolonged the slow pumps a little longer, just wanting to feel a little more of the wonders Wendy was doing beneath you. As the seconds passed, you couldn't help going faster, but that didn't stop Wendy from eating Seulgi's pussy like it was a divine command.

"Oh my god, yes!" Seulgi moaned as you pounded her pussy from behind, hands on her waist. "Please don't stop, don't stop!"

One of your hands moved from her waist to her hair, firmly grabbing a handful of it and speeding up as you were close to your climax. Seulgi came first, trembling on Wendy's face, and the way her pussy suffocated your cock and throbbed around it made you explode with moans as loud as Seulgi's.

"God!" you groaned, leaving only your tip inside Seulgi's pussy as you came, so that when you pulled out, your entire load spilled from Seulgi's folds into Wendy's mouth. "Yeah, that's a good girl."

Wendy took every drop that fell from Seulgi's pussy, savored it, and swallowed it without hesitation, then stuck out her tongue and cleaned the rest herself. As a reward, you took your cock and guided it into her mouth. She took it with a moan and sucked it until it was glistening.

"Don't even think I'm done with you," Seulgi told you between gasps, looking back into your eyes. "You know exactly what I want, and I know you want to give it to me."

"I've never refused it," you replied.

You got off Wendy and went to Seulgi, taking up the space on that side she wasn't occupying. As soon as you lay down and rested your head on the small of the couch, Seulgi straddled you. And without even letting your cock soften, she took you back into her pussy and began moving her hips on you.

It was a little painful at first, but nothing you weren't used to with her, especially since she hated breaks. Seulgi bent over you and kissed you while moving her hips on your cock. Your hands went to her waist and quickly went down to her ass as she began to bounce, almost twerking on your shaft.

"Does it feel good for you now, baby?" Seulgi asked in your ear, knowing it had been a bit painful for you. She made you smile at her ability to be so sweet despite the lewd moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you nodded with a giggle, wrapping your arms around her back to hug her. "You're free to go wild."

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, as Seulgi took it quite seriously. She bounced faster and faster on your cock, showing off the excellent control she had over her hips. Then you heard a spank, one you hadn't given her. Glancing to your right, you saw Wendy kneeling beside you, playing with herself with one hand and holding Seulgi's lower back with the other.

"Pay no attention to me," Wendy said. She hadn't noticed that she still had a few drops of cum on her chin. "I'm just watching."

Despite being ‘just watching’, Wendy gave Seulgi another spank that made her squeal. But your amused smile turned into a grimace of pleasure when Seulgi planted her feet on the couch and began bouncing like an unstoppable force of nature on your cock, her hands on your chest and her eyes fixed on yours. Her body had picked up a light layer of sweat, giving it a soft sheen thanks to the living room lights.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!!" Seulgi moaned, reaching up for you to suck on her fingers. You did so without hesitation, playing with her tits until she came again with a grunt.

Seulgi lowered her knees back onto the couch and ground herself against it, your cock buried deep inside her pussy. She throbbed deliciously inside, her silky, suffocating walls making you moan. Her body fell towards you, and with her tits pressed against your chest, she moved her hips up and down as she rode out her orgasm.

Your cock accidentally popped out of Seulgi's pussy, and Wendy was quick to grab it with one hand and suck it with desperate, sloppy slurps.

"Do you want more, you submissive little whore?" you asked, reaching out to grab her ass.

"You ask that like you don't know me," Wendy replied with kisses to your cock, then released it to stand in front of the couch. "Come on, come."

"I love that you guys think I have unlimited energy," you sighed, looking at Seulgi, still panting and with her hair disheveled. "Get off me, big ass."

Seulgi got off you and let you stand.

Wendy was pretty predictable when she wanted something, and that something was you grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her up into the air so she could wrap her legs around your torso. Once that was done, she grabbed your neck and kissed you, letting you grab your cock and guide it inside her.

That woman was small and petite, so it was effortless for you to hold her in the air. This made it easy to manipulate her at will, bouncing her hard and fast on your cock while you held her ass. Wendy squealed against your lips. Her hand was behind your head, tugging at your hair when her arms weren't wrapped around your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seulgi get off the couch and kneel in front of you, right behind Wendy's ass. Her intentions were clear to you, so you spread Wendy's legs from around your torso, held them in the air with a grip behind her knees, and began pounding her pussy while Seulgi ate her butthole.

Wendy filled the entire apartment with screams worthy of the main vocalist she was, visibly overwhelmed by both simultaneous inputs of pleasure. Her eyes glazed over as her head fell back and her nails dug into the back of your neck. She wasn't much of a talker during sex, and this time was no exception. All her enjoyment was expressed in the way her face twisted and her moans modulated according to how close she was to orgasm.

In that case, her orgasm was very close, and a couple of minutes later, she exploded in spasms and intense screams that rattled your eardrums. Seulgi, her work done, stood up and buried her face in Wendy's neck, peppering it with kisses. Then she looked up at you.

"Do you have lube here?" Seulgi asked, while Wendy still wasn't fully recovered from her orgasm, which was still making her thighs tremble.

"Let's go to the bedroom," you said.

Not wanting to put Wendy down because you knew she wouldn't be able to walk, you picked her up and carried her on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around her thighs.

Seulgi led the way to your bedroom, followed closely by you. Upon entering, the first thing she did was go straight to your nightstand in search of the lube while you placed Wendy on the bed. She quickly found it and crawled into your bed to lie on her side and quickly pour the clear liquid on her ass and part of her thighs.

"Fuck, you really need it, don't you?" you asked, watching as she spread the lube until her ass was shiny and slippery.

"I lost count of the last time you fucked my ass, so yeah," Seulgi looked down at Wendy, who was face down with one knee raised higher than the other. Her ass looked too cute, and Seulgi knew it. "Do you want me to do the same to her?"

"She wants you to, but right now she can't string two sentences together without fainting," you replied.

While Seulgi prepped Wendy's ass, you got into bed, positioned yourself in front of her, grabbed your cock, and pressed it against her butthole, slowly inching it in.

"Oh, fuck, wait," Seulgi moaned, still holding Wendy's ass. "I'm not done yet… mmmgh!"

"You said you needed it, and now I'm a busy man. I can't wait forever," you joked with a half-smile.

Your cock slid easily into Seulgi's perfect, amazing, wonderful ass, every inch surrounded by suffocatingly tight flesh. Seulgi did her best to focus on finishing work on Wendy's ass, and when she did, she tossed the bottle of lube away to grab onto your wrist.

"Fuck me hard then, busy man," Seulgi hissed. You were already moving slowly. "Make up for all these months of not treating me."

It was no secret to either of you, but Seulgi's ass always managed to make your head spin, and you couldn't really put your finger on why. It was simply the ass you loved being inside the most besides Aeri's, Chaery's, and Wendy's. Your moans and the way you clung to her waist proved it.

"That's it, that's it," Seulgi moaned, her body increasingly rocked by your thrusts. "Just like that, baby. Didn't you miss your favorite ass?"

Fuck, of course you did, but at that moment, you couldn't respond; you were focused on fucking her faster and harder. The bedroom soon began to reverberate with the sounds of your pelvis colliding with her sticky ass, coupled with Seulgi's moans. You pressed her thigh back and against her torso with both hands, trying to hit her at that angle you knew she'd love. You knew you'd succeeded when Seulgi brought a hand to her mouth and arched her back, squealing.

"Oh god, yesss!!" Seulgi screamed. "I knew you wouldn't forget. Fuck, fuck!!"

Seulgi slammed her hand on the bed when, a minute later, she came in that way you so vividly remembered from your first sessions with them. Like she was possessed, basically. Her face looked damn sexy while she did it, tho. And her ass was squeezing your cock like hell.

Wendy was already watching, eager for her turn, so with a swift movement, you pulled out of Seulgi's ass and straddled Wendy's thighs to guide your cock between her slick buttocks, find her butthole, and slowly enter it.

The big difference between Seulgi and Wendy was that the latter felt everything there, but multiplied by ten. That meant that for every inch of cock you buried inside her ass, the more she lost her mind, to the point where she couldn't even move from the immense pleasure she felt. Within a few seconds, you reached that point, with your cock disappeared between her firm buttocks.

"You love this, don't you, Seungwanie?" you asked Wendy, one hand on her lower back and the other on the back of her neck.

Wendy just nodded weakly, unable to do anything else. Even her face was in a state of partial paralysis; only her mouth moved occasionally to emit muffled sounds and gasps. Then you started fucking her as hard as you were fucking Seulgi a moment ago.

That ass was on par with Seulgi's: just as tight and just as warm. Every inch of your cock slid in and out of her, fast and hard, up and down. Wendy was happy to be pinned to the bed like that; her fingers, both her hands and her toes, wrinkled in approval. Her blank eyes also urged you to keep going.

Within seconds, Wendy had a silent orgasm, but physically you knew it was considerably the most intense, aggressive, and mind-melting of all. The way she writhed, pulling the sheets off the top corner of the bed, made every drop of sweat worth it. But you needed to cum urgently.

Seulgi got on her hands and knees for you, and you returned to her ass to pound it hard from behind, pulling her hair and delivering spank after spank. A while later, when you'd given Wendy enough time to recover, you returned to her and flipped her over onto her back to spread her legs and also fuck her ass like a madman.

You spent a considerable amount of time switching between both asses, and after making them both cum once more, you reached your climax while fucking Wendy.

"Oh fuck!!" You groaned, your fingers digging into Wendy's tiny waist until, with a sudden thrust, you exploded inside her. "Fuckkk!!"

It didn't surprise you that, as you emptied your balls inside her, Wendy came again, and this time she whimpered until tears streamed down her cheeks. You slumped forward and kissed her, filled with nothing but gratitude and affection. Wendy cupped your face with trembling hands and kissed you back, until, out of nowhere, she fainted. It was also normal for her, so you weren't alarmed.

You pulled yourself out of her, and your cum spilled from her butthole onto the white sheets.

"Do you want us to spend the night with you, sweetheart?" Seulgi asked from beside you, lying on her own arm.

"Yes, please," you nodded between heavy gasps.

"And you want me to comb your hair right now?"

"Fuck, yes please," you sighed.

"First let me help you clean Seungwanie and the sheets."

Seulgi stood up, and on shaky legs, went to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper and come back to clean up the cum-soaked mess you'd made. Then, she settled onto a pillow on the right side of the bed and held out her arms for you to curl up between them.

Mentally exhausted from all the day's shit and now physically exhausted from being drained by those two, you hugged Seulgi like a helpless koala and let her cuddle you until you fell asleep.

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amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

Text

The Spirit-lifter, ft. Red Velvet Seulgi

tags: nothing particular with this one

length: almost 14k

author's note: This is the continuation of The Heart-lifter, but it's not as sexually charged as that one anon's suggestion.

---

The weight of the cuffs in his hand feels different now. No longer a symbol of justice served: they are a stark reminder of the line he has crossed. Hyunwoo stares out their apartment window at the city lights, each one a potential witness to his transgression. He has let a thief go. Hell, not just let her go, but brings her into his life—into his bed.

The memory of Seulgi's tear-streaked face, the desperate tremor in her voice as she speaks of her past, still tugs at his empathy, but empathy is a dangerous thing for a police officer. A slippery slope that erodes the very foundations of his duty. Is this love, as they have so hastily declared, or a twisted consequence of his authority meeting her vulnerability? This very question gnaws at him, a constant unease that shadows the moments of tenderness they share.

“Oppa…” Her soft voice is heard from behind, but Hyunwoo dares not turn his head. “Oppa, are you okay?” she asks, concern carried with every word. He nods slowly, his mind racing with all kinds of thoughts, silence gripping him hard. “No, please, don’t lie to me. I know that look,” she counters, not convinced by his small gesture and tense body.

Seulgi wraps her arms around him from behind, her hands resting on his belly, offering comfort and warmth to ease his mind and body. “Oppa, please, say something…” she says, the soft voice contradicting the weight of her demand. Hyunwoo places a hand on hers, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “I’m alright, baby,” he says, attempting to hide his stress from her. “It’s just that, erm, my mind is taking me places,” he adds, hinting at the truth behind his turmoil.

Seulgi moves to stand before Hyunwoo, filling the small gap between him and the window, guiding his chin downwards to look him in the eyes. “Oppa, please, what is it? You know you can tell me everything, right?” she demands, growing frustrated yet understanding, wishing Hyunwoo would let her help carry the burden. Realizing there’s no other way but to tell the truth, he relents, letting his worry be laid bare before his lover’s eyes.

Hyunwoo takes a deep breath, piecing together an answer for his beloved. “The superintendent wants to see me tomorrow morning,” he begins, stringing each word together carefully. “Something about my... unorthodox handling of a recent case—your case.” Seulgi’s eyes turn glassy with unshed tears: the superintendent must’ve heard about Hyunwoo’s misconduct in handling her shoplifting incident, about him abusing his authority, and karma is out to get him.

“Will you… lose your job?” she asks, her voice shaking with thoughts of potentially being the cause of his downfall. Hyunwoo shrugs, as clueless as she is. “That’s definitely a possibility,” he answers. “Perhaps they’ll even send me to prison for failing to enforce law.” A heavy sigh flows out of her lips. “Law,” she mutters. “The only thing that separates us from the animals, or so they say.” A shiver runs down his spine, getting flashbacks to the first time he heard that phrase during his training period. “Yeah, precisely, and I’ve failed.”

The silence that follows Hyunwoo's words is thick with unspoken fear. Seulgi's grip on his arm tightens almost imperceptibly. "No," she says, her voice low but firm, the earlier tremor replaced by a sudden steeliness. "No, I won't let that happen. You did what you did because of me—because you understood. I won't let you face the consequences alone."

A new determination sparks in her eyes, pushing back the tears. "We'll figure this out. Together. What can we do? Is there someone we can talk to? Someone who would understand?" She searches his face, her gaze intense, seeking a solution, a way out of this looming crisis. The thought of Hyunwoo behind bars sends a cold dread through her, a feeling far more terrifying than her own potential arrest. “I think we can look for an attorney if that’s necessary. I think I still have that right,” he says, a sense of strength surging within at her supportive stance. “Give me the attorney’s number,” she says. “I’ll reach out to them myself if I must.”

Hyunwoo stares at Seulgi, a complex mix of emotions swirling within him. Gratitude, yes, and a profound sense of awe at her fierce loyalty, but also a pang of guilt. He, the supposed protector, is now being shielded by the very person he initially apprehended. "Seulgi-yah..." he begins, but the words catch in his throat. He doesn't deserve this, he thinks. “Yes, that’s me,” she repeats, a smile taking root on her features. “We can do this, oppa.”

Seulgi lifts his hand, her gaze glued to the cuffs in his hand. “Think of it like this,” she places a hand on the rigid cuffs, “we’re sharing the burdens of life as if we’re cuffed together with no other way but forward, and we move forward together—always together.” Hyunwoo’s lips slowly curl into a smile, her words reaching the deepest parts of his heart, the tenseness of his body gradually dissipating. “You’re right,” Hyunwoo answers, strength and determination to keep fighting surging within him.

Hyunwoo reaches out, his thumb tracing a line on her soft cheek. “You always know what to say, don’t you, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, carrying emotions with every word. “I’m so lucky to have you in every sense of the word.” Seulgi presses a tender peck to his knuckles, a testament to the love for this man before her. “I don’t think it’s simply luck, though,” she counters. “It was fate, oppa. We found each other when we needed each other the most.”

She leans closer towards him, her gaze locked on his. “Besides…” she adds, her voice getting smaller, “the sex is amazing.” A soft chuckle escapes his lips, the first genuine laugh he’s had since receiving the summons letter this afternoon. In this moment, surrounded by a comfortable intimacy, the fear fades, replaced by a fragile yet tenacious hope. They have each other, and they are what each other needs.

Alas, the reprieve is fleeting. The memory of the superintendent’s summons lingers like a shadow in the corner of the room, a reminder of the storm that threatens their peace. Hyunwoo slowly, hesitantly, pulls away, his brow slightly furrowed with a sense of urgency. “We need a plan,” Seulgi suggests, her voice regaining the edge from earlier. He pecks her on the forehead, staying longer than usual, transferring the stress she has promised to help carry. “I don’t think there’s a ‘we’ here, baby. I mean, I can’t bring you to the superintendent,” he says. Seulgi’s eyes grow shiny, tears pooling and threatening to spill. “But… but I can’t let you go alone. Can I not wait outside or something?” she counters.

Hyunwoo cups her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the first tear that escapes. "Baby," he says softly, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and concern. "This is an official matter. It's about my conduct as a police officer. Your presence there... it could make things worse. They might see it as further evidence of my..." he trails off, unable to voice the word "failure" in front of her.

Seulgi shakes her head zealously, more tears dropping onto her cheeks. “Worse than you going alone? Worse than you possibly losing everything because of me?” she presses him further, her voice shaking with emotions. “At least let me be nearby. Let me be the first person you see as soon as they’re done with you, no matter what anyone says.” Seulgi grips his uniform hard, her knuckles turning white. “Please, don’t shut me out now, oppa. Did we not promise to face this together?"

Hyunwoo’s resolve erodes at the raw vulnerability in her voice. He knows she’s right and having her nearby would help, but his police-trained instincts keep screaming at him, urging him to make her stay at home. Weighing his options, he just looks at her—really looks at her—his mind racing with different scenarios that might happen if Seulgi is spotted near the headquarters.

Eventually, he can only sigh, conceding to the basic needs as a person: he’s going to take her along, even if she can’t directly see the superintendent. “The café,” he mutters. “You can wait for me at the café across the street.” Releasing the tight grip on him, Seulgi quickly wipes her tears with the back of her hands, relieved by him giving her the green light to be close to him while he faces the unknown. “I’ll be there, and I won’t leave until I see you step out of the building,” she says, determined and resolute.

The café across the street is small and unassuming, the kind of place where the aroma of stale coffee hangs heavy in the air. Seulgi chooses a table by the window, her gaze fixed on the imposing gray building that houses the superintendent's office. Each passing minute stretches into an eternity, filled with a gnawing anxiety that claws at her insides. She sips her lukewarm latte, barely registering the bitter taste. Her mind races, replaying the events of the past few days, the unlikely turn their lives have taken. From a desperate act of survival to an unexpected intimacy, and now, the looming threat of professional ruin for the man she loves with everything she has.

Minutes pass by, and Seulgi finally catches the police car that is assigned to Hyunwoo. “That’s him,” she thinks, her heartbeat growing quicker. Her fists clenches, gripping the end of her sweater, wishing she could give him a hug or a kiss before—

“Oh, he’s getting in…”

A small sob slips through her lips at the sight of Hyunwoo being greeted by a pair of men wearing a different uniform than him, their serious expressions cold and stern. “Please, be kind to him like he is to me.” Seulgi leans her head against the window, only able to watch helplessly while Hyunwoo disappears behind the two big doors in the front. “I love you, Kang Hyunwoo. I will always love you, no matter what happens today.”

All Seulgi can do is wait, watch, and pray for the man who is always able to lift her heart in the most unexpected ways.

…

The big, heavy doors close behind Hyunwoo with a solid thud, the sound piercing the quiet interior of the headquarters. As he’s escorted to the superintendent’s office, he catches some fellow officers stealing glances at him, murmuring among themselves and shaking their heads, accusing him of failure without saying a word. “No one else to blame but myself,” he thinks, making peace with his choices, even if they are perceived as incorrect.

One of the men escorting Hyunwoo knocks on Superintendent Park’s door, the sound of his knuckles on the wood chipping away at his persistence. The door opens slightly, a signal that Hyunwoo’s judgment is about to start. With an open palm, the officer gestures to him to enter, and after taking a deep breath to steel himself, Hyunwoo pushes the door, closing it behind him, his nostrils picking up the scent of Superintendent Park’s favorite essential oil from the diffuser on his desk.

“Kang Hyunwoo, Metropolitan Police Unit,” he introduces himself. “Ready to report, sir.” With a flick of his finger, Park signals Hyunwoo to come closer, straightening his sitting posture at the same time, his expression plain and unreadable. “Officer Kang,” he begins, his voice smooth but firm. “You are aware of the reason as to why you’re here, are you not?” Hyunwoo nods firmly. “Yes, sir, I am. It pertains to my handling of the shoplifting incident of Miss Kang Seulgi, a former celebrity,” he answers, keeping his voice steady, avoiding showing emotions. This isn’t the time to be vulnerable or sentimental. This summons is about facts, as cold as they may come.

"Yes, Officer Kang," Superintendent Park replies, his gaze unwavering. "Your report states that you apprehended Miss Kang Seulgi for shoplifting, yet no charges were filed. No report was officially lodged. Can you explain this discrepancy?" Park's voice remains calm, but there's an undercurrent of steel that sends a shiver down Hyunwoo's spine. He knows this is the crux of the matter.

Hyunwoo takes another deep breath, carefully choosing his words. "Sir, upon further investigation, it became apparent that Miss Kang's actions were driven by... extenuating circumstances. Severe financial hardship, coupled with a desperate need for essential goods." He pauses, gauging Park's reaction. "I exercised my discretion, sir, prioritizing a resolution that addressed her immediate needs while considering the... mitigating factors." He avoids mentioning the personal connection that has formed between them, knowing that would only complicate matters further.

“Is that so, son?” Park asks, his features relaxing by the minute. His body doesn’t look as tense, and his forehead isn’t furrowed as tightly. Hyunwoo nods slowly, keeping the truth of their connection tucked away in the depths of his mind. “Okay, so,” he continues, sighing briefly, “why did she pay her fine with your card?” The next question makes Hyunwoo swallow hard. “She… she didn’t have money, sir, so I… paid for it upfront, and she’s been paying me back little by little,” Hyunwoo answers, adding lies to mix in with the truth, playing a dangerous game with his superior.

“I see,” Park leans back in his big leather chair, “that’s quite the generous gesture for an officer apprehending a suspect, wouldn’t you agree, Officer Kang?” Hyunwoo forces himself to maintain his gaze locked on Park’s, his heart pounding in his chest. “With all due respect, sir,” he begins, his voice steady despite his racing heart. “I was trying to defuse the situation and ensure the well-being of those involved. Miss Kang was clearly in distress, and… I felt that letting her return the stolen goods and have her fined was the correct course of action,” Hyunwoo adds, offering an elaborate reasoning to support his stance.

Park leans forwards again, his elbows planted on the smooth surface of his desk. “Let’s cut to the chase, son, and be honest with me: were you or were you not biased towards Miss Kang Seulgi?” he asks, no longer interested in rhetorics. Hyunwoo takes a deep breath, mustering up the courage to answer truthfully as demanded. “Sir, I…” he trails off, unsure if he should simply confess that he was indeed biased towards Seulgi.

The silence stretches, thick and heavy with the weight of the unsaid. Hyunwoo's gaze flickers, a brief, involuntary glance towards the window, as if seeking Seulgi's presence for strength. Then, he forces himself to meet Park's eyes again, his jaw tightening.

“Yes, sir. I was biased towards Miss Kang,” Hyunwoo eventually admits, his tone low and measured. “I believe that my... sympathy for Miss Kang's situation did influence my decisions. However,” he rushes on before Park can interrupt. “My primary concern was that the situation could be resolved quickly and efficiently. I did not act with malicious intent, nor was I seeking personal gain.”

Hyunwoo ends his explanation, leaving the true extent of his “bias” unspoken, hoping that it’s good enough for Park. After all, the fate of his career, perhaps also his freedom, is in the hands of the superintendent.

“Sympathy,” Park echoes. “A commendable trait in a police officer, but if that very trait leads to a complete disregard of protocol… Then that is a liability, Officer Kang.” Park sighs, letting his head rest against the back of his chair. “Tell me one last thing, son: after all the things you’ve done when handling Miss Kang Seulgi’s case, what do you expect to happen to you?” Hyunwoo lowers his head, feeling the weight of the question, his life hanging in the balance. “I… I expect punishment, sir. Anything other than dismissal from my post.”

Park studies Hyunwoo for a long moment, his gaze intense and unreadable. The silence in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, amplifying the weight of Hyunwoo's admission and his plea for leniency. Finally, Park leans back in his chair, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Punishment," he echoes once more, his voice softer now, almost contemplative. "Yes, Officer Kang, there will undoubtedly be consequences for your deviation from protocol. However..." He pauses, his eyes still fixed on Hyunwoo. "Your honesty, while belated, is noted, and your explanation... it suggests a degree of compassion that, as I said, can be valuable, if properly channeled." He reaches for a file on his desk, his gaze momentarily shifting away from Hyunwoo, leaving the young officer in a state of tense anticipation. The sound of the folder opening seems deafening in the quiet room.

“Officer Kang Hyunwoo, I hereby declare that you are temporarily discharged for one month for your failure to follow protocol. During that period, you will receive a 50% pay cut. Is there anything you’d like to address before I send you on your way?”

A wave of relief washes over Hyunwoo, so potent it almost buckles his knees. A month's suspension and a pay cut are harsh, but it’s not dismissal, and it certainly isn’t jail. He manages a shaky nod, his throat tight with a mixture of gratitude and lingering anxiety. "No, sir," he says, his voice hoarse. "I understand. Thank you for your... leniency." The word feels inadequate, considering the potential consequences he braced himself for.

Park observes him for another moment, his expression still unreadable. "Use this time wisely, Officer Kang," he advises, his tone softening slightly. "Reflect on your actions and remember the oath you took. The trust we hold is fragile, and it must be earned and maintained." He gestures towards the door. "You're dismissed." Hyunwoo straightens his posture, his legs feeling strangely weak but eager to leave, nonetheless.

As he turns to leave, a single thought dominates his mind: Seulgi. He needs to see her, to tell her. He hopes the news won't devastate her, knowing how much his job means to him, and how much she blames herself for his current predicament. However, he also understands that he can’t just see her at the café across the street—hell, it is across the street from the headquarters.

Having received his phone back from the guards, Hyunwoo is tempted to send her a text, but he’s promptly reminded about that particular case where a backdoor was installed on a suspect’s phone which allowed the police force to access messages and calls. “Fuck,” he curses silently, gripping his phone hard in frustration.

Hyunwoo heads out from the main doors, standing still in front of the headquarters, his gaze darting towards the café where Seulgi must be waiting for him. Eventually, he spots her: she’s leaning against the window, looking rather calm from where he’s standing. He quickly formulates a plan to show, not tell, Seulgi that he’s fine.

“I guess I can use a cup of iced latte.”

Hyunwoo straightens his uniform and hat, putting on a charade, as he crosses the street to reach the café. The little bell hanging on the door frame rings as he enters the establishment, punctuating his grand entrance that is meant for one person and one person only: the stressed woman in a terracotta sweater sitting by a window.

“One large, iced latte with less sugar, please,” Hyunwoo places his order, making sure his voice is loud enough for both the barista and Seulgi. “Of course, officer. Please, have a seat,” the barista replies, her finger pacing around on the small monitor before her.

Hyunwoo's eyes never leave Seulgi's as he places his order, the emphasis on "latte" and "large" deliberate. It's a small detail, a shared joke from a late-night coffee run a few days ago, a code only they would understand. Latte means no one is hurt. Large means things are okay. He hopes to God that she gets it.

Seulgi's gaze sharpens; her initial anxiety is replaced by a flicker of understanding. The corners of her lips twitch in reflex, a silent acknowledgment of his message. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, but she maintains her composed facade, aware that they're still in a public space, under the watchful eyes of anyone who might be observing them.

The barista calls out his order, and Hyunwoo turns to pay, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anticipation. “Ah, thank you for the quick service,” Hyunwoo says out loud, drawing quite the attention of the café’s patrons to himself. “My cat will be missing me soon, and I appreciate how quick you were with my latte,” he adds, doing his best to get Seulgi to catch on to the signal lying beneath his words. “Tell your cat I said pspsps, officer,” the barista jokes, unaware of the true intentions behind his seemingly innocent sentence. “Of course, my cat is very friendly anyway.”

Seulgi's eyes flick down to her own hands for a brief moment, a small, almost imperceptible smile gracing her lips before she schools her expression back to neutral. “Cat means me, and this cat does miss him,” she thinks. The pieces click into place. She takes another slow sip of her latte, feigning disinterest in Hyunwoo's exchange with the barista.

Seulgi keeps her eyes fixed on Hyunwoo as he makes to leave the establishment with a cup of latte in his hand, she herself ready to bolt out and head home to see him in a more private setting. “I’m coming, baby. Wait for me, okay?” she thinks.

“Have a good day, madam, and always stay safe,” Hyunwoo greets her briefly right before exiting. Seulgi gasps slightly, not expecting to have an interaction with him here and now. “Y-you too, officer,” she replies quickly, the heavy beats of her heart bumping against her ribs, wishing she could just hug him here and now.

Seulgi waits for a while, allowing a few seconds to pass before gathering her bag. She stands up, her movements deliberately casual as she heads towards the exit. The bell above the door jingles again as she steps out onto the street, her gaze immediately locking onto Hyunwoo's. A silent understanding passes between them. They can't linger here, not so close to the lion's den. Without a word, they begin to walk in the opposite direction of the police headquarters—Hyunwoo to his unit car; Seulgi to the bus stop—their pace quickening with each step, the unspoken urgency of their situation propelling them away from the prying eyes and potential surveillance.

Hyunwoo reaches his unmarked police car, his eyes scanning the rearview mirror as he starts the engine. He needs to appear like any other officer heading out on patrol, but his mind is racing. He has to get to Seulgi as soon as his shift allows, to hold her and reassure her that they will face this together. The image of her worried face in the café window is etched in his memory.

Seulgi hurries towards the bus stop, her terracotta sweater doing little to ward off the sudden chill that grips her. Each passing car makes her jump, her mind hyper-aware of any potential surveillance. The relief of Hyunwoo's coded message is now overshadowed by a renewed sense of anxiety about the future. What will happen to him? What will happen to her? The uncertainty hangs heavy in the air as she waits for the bus, her gaze fixed in the direction Hyunwoo's car disappeared.

Seulgi presses the buttons on their door with urgency, her finger racing to get the door unlocked as quickly as possible. With a satisfying click, it unlocks, and she immediately pushes the door open, unwilling to spend one more second outside the safe space that is their shared apartment.

“Oppa!” Seulgi enters the apartment screaming his name, looking for the only person who can soothe her anxious heart and mind. “One second, baby,” he replies, his voice coming from the kitchen along with sounds of sizzling. She drops her bag on the floor, running towards him, seeking the comfort only he can provide.

Seulgi crashes into him from behind, her hands stacking on top of each other on his firm stomach, her face pressed against his back. “Oppa…” she calls to him in a whisper, her voice trembling, starting to break into tears. “It’s okay, baby,” he sighs—out of relief, not stress. “We’re okay, trust me,” he offers an assurance, but it does little in calming the sobbing girl.

Hyunwoo turns off the stove, the sizzling ceasing abruptly, and immediately pivots to face Seulgi, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent, a small anchor in the storm of his own emotions. "Hey, hey," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "It's alright. I'm here." He rocks her gently, the way he does when she's had a particularly rough day.

"What... what happened?" she finally manages to choke out between sobs, her grip on his shirt tightening. Hyunwoo pulls back slightly, cupping her face in his hands, his gaze tender. "It's... it's not the best news, baby," he admits, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. "But it's not the worst either." He hesitates, gathering his thoughts, knowing he needs to choose his words carefully. "I've been suspended... for a month, and… I’ll be receiving only half my salary during the suspension."

Seulgi buries her face in his chest, crying out of control, smacking him with her fist repeatedly. Not out of anger, but rather out of regret and self-blame. All she wanted was safety and comfort during a tough time, but she’s brought him crashing down with her, and the weight of the guilt is crushing down on her.

Hyunwoo holds her tightly, letting her tears soak into his shirt. He understands the source of her anguish. She sees herself as the catalyst, the reason his life is now disrupted. "Shh, baby, shh," he murmurs, stroking her hair. "It's not your fault. I made my choices. I chose to..." Hyunwoo hesitates, the word "help" feeling inadequate. "I chose to do what I thought was right."

He pulls her back slightly, looking into her tear-filled eyes. "Listen to me, Seulgi-yah. My job is important to me, yes, but you... you are more important. A month will pass. We'll manage the pay cut. We'll get through this, together. This isn't the end, it's just... a bump in the road." He tries to sound reassuring, but the uncertainty of their future still lingers in the back of his mind. He just hopes his words can offer Seulgi the comfort she desperately needs.

“I’m… I’m sorry, oppa,” she mumbles, her voice barely intelligible because of the tears. “I-I’ll leave if you want me to. Just say the word and… and I’ll be out of here,” she adds. Hyunwoo shakes his head. Deep down, he knows that her leaving would devastate him. “No, baby, I don’t want you to leave,” he strokes her cheeks softly, “I don’t want me or you to be alone in this hard time.”

Seulgi plants her face in his chest once more, her arms wrapped tightly around him, as if afraid that he’ll disappear if she lets go. “I love you, oppa, and I’m sorry for everything,” she mutters, her tiny voice barely reaching his ears. “I love you too, baby, and I’m sorry for everything too,” he replies, his mind going back to the day they agreed to carry this burden together.

The memory of that day, the day they stood and agreed to face the odds together, solidifies Hyunwoo's resolve. He will not let this setback break them. He will not let Seulgi's guilt consume her. He will not let their shared dream of a life together fade.

He pulls back slightly, his hands framing her face, his gaze intense. "We made a promise, remember?" he says softly, his voice a low rumble. "We said we'd face this together, hand in hand. A month is nothing, Seulgi-yah. We'll get through it and come out stronger." He manages a small, reassuring smile, hoping it reaches her through the haze of her tears. "We have each other, and that's all that matters." He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, a silent vow to protect her heart and their bond, no matter what the future holds.

Seulgi slightly pushes back against him, asking to have some space to catch her breath. “I… I accept,” she says, wiping off the tears herself. “I will stay here and… and support you in every way I can.” A bigger smile blooms on their faces at this moment of mutual understanding and agreement to be each other’s rock. “Sounds great to me, my love,” Hyunwoo says, his heart flooded with gratitude and love for the woman in his arms.

The apartment feels different now, charged with a new kind of intimacy born from shared vulnerability. The mundane tasks of daily life take on a deeper meaning: cooking dinner, cleaning up, simply being in each other's presence. There's an unspoken understanding that they're both drawing strength from the other, preparing for whatever the next month may bring. The world outside may be uncertain, but within these walls, their love is a constant, an anchor that holds them down amidst the raging storm.

The month of Hyunwoo's suspension has passed in a blur of quiet intimacy and unspoken worries. They navigated the financial strain together. Seulgi's unwavering support has been a constant source of strength for him. Now, the morning of his reinstatement dawns with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation hanging in the air of their apartment. Hyunwoo lays in bed, the sunlight filtering through the curtains illuminating the familiar lines of Seulgi's sleeping face beside him.

A sense of normalcy, something they have both longed for, is finally within reach. Beneath the surface of his relief, however, a knot of anxiety tightens in his stomach. Returning to the force means stepping back into a world that now feels complicated, a world where his loyalty has been tested and his judgment questioned. He wonders how his colleagues will treat him, what his new assignments will be, and most importantly, how his relationship with Seulgi will be perceived in the eyes of the law and his peers.

“Good morning,” Seulgi greets him with closed eyes, her voice slightly hoarse from the sleep. “It’s that day, isn’t it?” Hyunwoo nods at her question, knowing what she’s referring to. “Yeah, it is,” he says. “I’m so rusty, though.” She chuckles, amused by his choice of words. “Don’t worry. You might be rusty, but you’re my rusty.” Hyunwoo laughs. The joke might be lighthearted, but the weight of the emotions behind the joke is anything but light.

Hyunwoo pulls Seulgi closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "My rusty, huh? I like the sound of that." He lingers in the warmth of her embrace for a moment longer than necessary, drawing on her strength before the day truly begins. The familiar comfort of their apartment, the soft light, and the quiet intimacy are a stark contrast to the rigid, public world of service he is about to re-enter.

He eventually pushes himself out of bed, the cool air hitting his skin. The uniform, freshly pressed and hanging on the closet door, seems to hum with a quiet authority he hasn't felt in a month. As he dresses, each button, each buckle, feels like a step back into a different skin. He glances at Seulgi, who is now sitting up, watching him with an expression he can't quite decipher—a mix of pride, worry, and an unwavering belief that steadies him. He knows this day is not just about his job; it's about proving that their unconventional bond can withstand the scrutiny of the world he serves.

“You’re going to be okay, right?” Hyunwoo swallows a gulp at her question, he himself uncertain if he is indeed going to be okay. “Honestly, I don’t know, but I’ll try my best. For us both,” he says, regaining the resolve he once had. “If you need anything, oppa, just call me. I’ll come running to the headquarters if I need to,” she offers, unwavering in her support for him. “No, that won’t be necessary, sweetheart.”

"I know," Seulgi whispers, her hand reaching for his, their fingers intertwining. "But I'll be waiting, and I'll be thinking of you every second." She squeezes his hand, a silent promise that transcends any physical distance or official protocols.

Hyunwoo finishes fastening his uniform, the weight of the badge now feeling heavier than before, not just with duty, but with the fragile hope of their future. He leans down one last time, capturing her lips in a deep, lingering kiss that promises his return. "I'll be home as soon as I can, my love," he murmurs against her mouth, a silent echo of the anchor she is for him.

Taking a deep breath, Hyunwoo prepares to leave, tapping around his body to check if he’s forgotten anything. Confident that everything is sorted, he begins to approach the front door. Not as a regular guy he has been for the past month, but as a police officer who is taking another chance at public service.

“You forgot something, oppa,” Seulgi calls to him. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” he asks, looking around him to check. “A piece of me, oppa,” she tucks her favorite hairpin in his back pocket, “something to remember me by. Something to remind you what you’re fighting for.”

Hyunwoo reaches back, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of the hairpin in his pocket. A warmth spreads through him, anchoring him to her even as he prepares to face the day. He turns to Seulgi, his eyes filled with love so profound, it almost hurts. "Thank you, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I won't forget."

Then, with a final, lingering look that promises his prompt return, Hyunwoo opens the front door and steps out. The click of the lock behind him sounds like the closing of one chapter and the hesitant re-opening of another. The familiar scent of their apartment, a blend of Seulgi's perfume and the lingering aroma of their favorite candle, fades as he descends the stairs, replaced by the crisp, cool air of the morning. He straightens his shoulders, the uniform feeling both heavy and right. The world outside awaits, and he knows that with Seulgi's piece of him tucked safely away, he is ready to face it.

“Kang Hyunwoo, Metropolitan Police. Reporting for reinstatement,” Hyunwoo says to the officer attending the administration desk. The officer grabs a folder with his name written on it, looking through some documents, her finger tracing lines along the papers as she reads each one. “Welcome back, Officer Kang Hyunwoo. Please head to the superintendent’s office, and after that, please head to the armory.” He nods firmly, the reality of returning to duty settling in his mind, his fist clenching with nerves. “Certainly. Thank you for the help.”

Hyunwoo turns from the desk, the polished floor of the main lobby stretching before him. Every familiar face he passes seems to offer a fleeting glance, a silent judgment he tries to ignore. He focuses on the superintendent's office, a destination that still carries the weight of his disciplinary summons. The scent of disinfectant and stale coffee, so characteristic of the building, fills his nostrils, a sharp reminder of the world he now re-enters.

He knocks on Superintendent Park's door, the sound echoing louder in his ears than it should. This time, there's no escort, no sense of impending doom, but a new kind of anxiety hums beneath his skin—the anxiety of the unknown. The door opens, and Park's face, as unreadable as ever, greets him. "Officer Kang," Park says, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Come in. We have some matters to discuss before your full reinstatement."

A shiver runs down his entire body, his mind racing with thoughts of these “matters” that need to be addressed before his actual return. “Yes, sir.” Hyunwoo stands before Park in a steady, proper stance of a police officer, and that is when a small laugh, feeling somewhat warm to Hyunwoo’s ears, escapes Park’s lips. “I remember the day I first met you when you were a rookie, son,” Park says. “Your eyes were basically aflame, burning with passion to serve the public.”

A thin smile forms on Hyunwoo’s face, rekindling the day when he was first initiated into the police force. “A rookie’s innocence, sir—typical, wouldn’t you say?” Hyunwoo replies, feeling a bit shy at the memory of his naiveness way back then. Park laughs, the corners of his eyes creasing, his posture relaxed. Such a stark contrast to his energy during their last meeting. “Typical, yes, but nice to see, nonetheless.”

"Sit, Hyunwoo-yah," Park gestures to the chair opposite his desk, his smile softening further. "No need for formalities among old acquaintances. Though, of course," his tone regains a touch of its professional edge, "this is still an official meeting." Hyunwoo takes the seat, the leather cool against his uniform, his gaze still fixed on Park, trying to discern the true intent behind this sudden shift in atmosphere.

Park leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Your file shows a strong record before this, say, incident. Dedication, good instincts, but also, as we’ve seen time and time again, a tendency towards... unconventional solutions." He pauses, letting Hyunwoo absorb his words. "The department values integrity, Officer Kang, and adherence to protocol. However, it also values good judgment and, yes, even empathy." He picks up a pen, tapping it lightly on the polished wood. "So, let's talk about what we expect from you, now that you're back."

Hyunwoo straightens in his seat, ready for the parameters of his return. He understands this isn't simply a formality; it's a re-evaluation of his worth, his perspective, and his place within the force. "I'm ready to listen, sir," he says, his voice firm, conveying both respect and quiet determination.

Park leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "First, your return probationary period will last for six months. During this time, you will be under direct supervision, and any further deviation from protocol will result in immediate and permanent dismissal." He pauses, letting the severity of the statement sink in. "Second, we've had a request from the District Chief's office. You're being assigned to a new unit: the special one. One that deals with sensitive cases. High-profile individuals. Cases that require a delicate touch, and perhaps…” Park trails off, his eyes gleam with a look that might be a challenge, or a warning. "Unconventional solutions, which you’re awfully terrific at."

Hyunwoo takes a deep breath, the implications of Park's words settling over him. Six months under the microscope, a new, highly visible unit, and the implicit expectation that his "unconventional" approach, while dangerous, is precisely why they need him. He doesn't miss the subtle irony, or the weight of the trust—or perhaps the test—being placed upon him.

"I understand, sir," he says, his voice steady. "I'll do my best to meet those expectations." Park clicks his tongue, seemingly unsatisfied by Hyunwoo’s promise. “No, no, no. What was it you used to say when assigned to a new job?” he asks, looking for a specific answer.

Hyunwoo’s thoughts swirl in his head, his eyebrows furrowing, trying to remember what he once said, and a smile is starting to take form on Park’s face, eager to hear the old mantra. “Erm, I will excel in my duties, sir?” Park’s lips curve into a smile, finally getting the answer he desires. “Yes, that. I like it when you say it, Hyunwoo-yah.” Hyunwoo nods firmly, his resolve now firm like it once was, his straight posture a semblance of that very persistence. “Yes, sir. I will excel in my duties.”

"That's what I like to hear, son," Park says, his smile lingering. He rises, walking around his desk to clap Hyunwoo firmly on the shoulder. The touch is heavy, not entirely paternal, but loaded with expectation. "Now, go get your badge back, get your gear. Captain Lee is expecting you in his unit room on the fifth floor—and remember, excel." A pleasant shiver runs down Hyunwoo’s back, eager to excel, like his superior has commanded him to. “Excellence is what we seek, is it not, Superintendent?” he thinks.

Hyunwoo offers a crisp, respectful bow, a muscle working in his jaw, before he turns and strides out of the superintendent's office. The door clicks shut behind him, sealing off the conversation and the lingering scent of essential oils. The hallway, which had felt like a gauntlet minutes ago, now seems like a path. He doesn't glance at the other officers this time; his focus is singularly on the armory.

The heavy metal door of the armory swings open with a familiar groan. The smell of gun oil and polished steel is almost comforting, a scent of purpose and capability. The armorer, a gruff veteran with more years on the force than Hyunwoo has been alive, merely nods, already pulling Hyunwoo's service weapons—a long-barrel, automatic assault rifle and a handgun—and a set of holsters from a locked cabinet.

As he straps on his gear, the familiar weight of his sidearm settling against his hip, and the cool metal of his badge clicks into place on his uniform, a sense of belonging washes over him. He's not just a man trying to do right; he's Officer Kang Hyunwoo, the newly appointed personnel of the Special Police Unit, back where he belongs with the force.

A nervous shudder flows through him at the sight of the new assault rifle he’s been assigned to. The clean paint, signifying its minimal wear, and the bigger bullets in the magazine feel… daunting.

“What’s wrong, rookie?” the armorer asks, still using the same epithet from the past. “Nothing; just admiring my new toy,” Hyunwoo answers, trying to play it coy. The armorer scoffs, more playful than demeaning, slightly amused by his answer. “Your new captain wants you to start training with your new toy immediately, so you better get used to it.” Hyunwoo nods firmly, his fingers running along the length of the barrel. “Oh, I will get used to it alright,” he says, now finding the confidence he’s been lacking recently.

As Hyunwoo takes the assault rifle, its cold, ergonomic weight feels alien yet strangely familiar in his hands. This isn't the patrol weapon he's used to; this is for a different kind of war, a silent acknowledgement of the gravity of his new role. He checks the safety, the action smooth and precise, a testament to the meticulous maintenance of the armory. The armorer watches him, a flicker of something unreadable in his veteran eyes.

“You know I take good care of my toys, rookie,” the armorer quips, his weary eyes gleaming with playful boast. Hyunwoo chuckles. Out of all the men and women in the force, the armorer is the one he’s been the closest with, taking Hyunwoo under his care since day one. “I know, boss,” Hyunwoo quips back. “You might be old, but at least these things stay young on your watch.” The armorer huffs, his forehead furrowing, annoyed every time his age is brought up. “Just get out of here before I smack you.”

With his new gear secured, Hyunwoo makes his way towards the fifth floor. Each step echoes in the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the lower levels. The "Special Police Unit" office doors are unmarked by purpose, a symbol of their discretion. He pauses before one such door, taking a deep breath, the subtle feeling of having Seulgi's hairpin in his back pocket a grounding presence. He's ready to excel, to face whatever "unconventional solutions" Captain Lee is seeking out of him.

Hyunwoo knocks on the door a few times, but no immediate answer is heard. “Is no one in?” he wonders, looking around to look for clues, finding none. He knocks a few more times, this time a bit harder than before. “State your name,” someone from the other side demands. “My name is Kang Hyunwoo,” he introduces himself, and the door is opened for him, revealing a deceptively big room with men in black inside. “Kang Hyunwoo, huh? Well, welcome to the 131.”

The man who opens the door, dressed in a sharp, dark combat shirt that seems out of place for police headquarters, steps aside. Hyunwoo enters, his eyes quickly adjusting to the subdued lighting of the large room—well, it’s clear that this isn’t an ordinary office.

A long, sleek conference table dominates the center, surrounded by ergonomic chairs. On the walls, digital screens display complex network maps and blurry surveillance footage, their faint glow casting long shadows. Several other figures, dressed similarly in dark attire, are scattered around the room, some hunched over keyboards, others observing the screens with focused intensity. There is not a single uniform in sight.

"Take a seat, Officer Kang," the man who greeted him says, his voice smooth and authoritative, indicating the chair at the head of the conference table. "I'm Captain Lee Jungwon, and these are your new colleagues,” he gestures to the surrounding individuals, “we’re the 131. Our work here isn't about upholding public order on the streets, Officer Kang. It's about working in the dark to serve the light." Lee chuckles, rubbing his forehead while sighing, seemingly amused by something. “Whoever came up with that last line plays video games too much,” he quips.

Hyunwoo’s lips quirk in a small, involuntary smile at Lee’s self-deprecating humor. It eases some of the tension that has coiled in his gut since stepping onto this floor. He takes the indicated seat, placing his assault rifle carefully on the floor beside him, its black form a stark contrast to the sleek, modern aesthetic of the room. The other agents remain focused, their movements economical, their faces unreadable, a silent testament to the intense concentration their work demands.

“In the 131, we don’t go around calling people by their ranks; we just say their name as if we’ve known in each other for decades,” Lee adds. “So, Hyunwoo-yah, any questions right off the bat?” Hyunwoo’s eyes remain on the screen with the map of the country, intrigued by the dots and the lines connecting them. “What is that, captain?” he asks, gesturing to the map with his lifted chin. Lee turns around, pointing at the big screen behind him. “That? That’s the drug smuggling chain, and those dots are known warehouses that these scums operate out of. Oh, and it’s Jungwon-ie to you, Hyunwoo-yah.”

Hyunwoo steps closer to the massive screen, his gaze tracing the intricate web of connections. The sheer scale of the operation laid bare before him is staggering, far beyond anything he has encountered in his regular patrol duties. "So, these warehouses," he muses, "are they under surveillance? Have we got teams on the ground?" He can feel the familiar buzz of a case beginning to take shape, the thrill of the hunt sharpening his senses.

Jungwon leans against the table, observing Hyunwoo with a keen, assessing gaze. “Yeah, all of them are. We’ve been deploying agents to keep an eye on each one, and it’s almost time to go guns blazing.” Hyunwoo swallows a gulp, unready to hear such a revelation on his first day at this new unit. “Guns blazing, huh?” he mutters. Jungwon approaches his new teammate, resting his elbow on Hyunwoo’s shoulder. “We brought you here for your ability to come up with unconventional approaches, but your first assignment is to raid a warehouse with us,” he explains, his tone kind and patient.

"A warehouse raid," Hyunwoo repeats, the words tasting different than “arresting a shoplifter." This is familiar territory, just on a much larger, more dangerous scale. The adrenaline begins to pump, pushing out the last vestiges of his morning's anxiety. "Understood, Jungwon-ah. Any specific intel on resistance or defensive setups?" He looks back at the screen, no longer just intrigued, but actively analyzing.

Jungwon grins, a flash of approval in his eyes. "That's what I like to hear. We'll download the full operational brief onto your comms, but in short: heavily armed, well-funded. They don't play nice. We're hitting them before dawn tomorrow. You'll be part of the initial entry team, front line. Get acquainted with your new rifle, Hyunwoo-yah, because you'll be using it." He turns to a nearby console. "One of our intel specialists, Minho, will set up your comms and walk you through the details. He’s the guy over there," Jungwon points at a fellow operative who is fiddling with field laptops and radios.

Hyunwoo nods, the taste of impending action sharp and metallic on his tongue. This isn't the kind of 'excel' Park spoke of in abstract terms; this is raw, immediate, and potentially deadly. He turns towards the operative Jungwon indicates, a lean man with sharp features, his fingers flying across a keyboard. Minho looks up, his expression serious but not unwelcoming.

"Minho-yah, this is Hyunwoo," Jungwon states, his elbow still briefly on Hyunwoo's shoulder. "Get him set up. Access codes, comms, the full brief for Operation Sunrise." Minho offers a curt nod, gesturing to an empty workstation. "Follow me, Hyunwoo-yah. There's a lot to cover before your wake-up call tomorrow." Hyunwoo follows, the rhythmic tapping of Minho's keyboard already a part of the intense symphony of the 131. He is officially in.

The familiar click of the lock echoing in their apartment has never sounded sweeter to Hyunwoo. He peels off his uniform, shedding the weight of command and responsibilities of the 131. The day has been a whirlwind of intensity: new faces, a new unit, and the chilling reality of Operation Sunrise looming just hours away, but here, in the soft glow of their living room, that world feels distant.

"Oppa?" Seulgi's voice, warm and melodic, drifts from the kitchen. She emerges, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her eyes immediately finding his. A small, relieved smile touched her lips, mirroring the one that blooms on his own face. She doesn’t ask about his day—not yet. She just walks into his open arms, pressing herself against him as if reaffirming their anchor in the face of the raging storm outside.

They move through the evening in a quiet rhythm, a shared understanding of the precious hours they have. Dinner is simple but laced with an unspoken tenderness. Later, wrapped in each other's arms in the comfort of their bed, the world outside fades into insignificance. His fingers trace the curve of her spine, her breath warm against his chest. It is in that intimate stillness, just midnight, that the weight of his duty presses down on him again.

He shifts slightly, and Seulgi hums, snuggling closer. "I will start a new case before dawn," he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper against her hair. "It's... big. A warehouse raid." He feels her stiffen imperceptibly. "Heavily armed. Front line." He waits, bracing himself for her fear, for the tears, but when she finally speaks, her voice is steady, though laced with undeniable concern. "You'll be careful, right, oppa? You'll come back to me in one piece, right?" Her hands find their favorite spots on the small of his back, just right over his waist. “Of course I will, baby. I will come home right after the operation is finished.”

Seulgi buries her face into his chest, her breath a soft, warm sigh against his skin. She doesn't need to ask for more details; the weight of his words, the mention of being heavily armed, and the description of this operation are enough. His promise, however, settles deep within her, a fragile shield against the fear that still gnaws at the edges of her mind. She tightens her arms around him, as if to physically hold him to his vow.

“Oppa,” she murmurs. “What do you need from me tonight—you know, before you head out and start shooting at… at… erm, guys.” Hyunwoo looks at her tenderly, touched by her selflessness to prioritize him before the big, likely very dangerous, operation. “If it’s not too much…” he begins, “I’d like to touch you, baby.” Seulgi nods, a soft, beautiful eye smile decorating her features. “Of course, oppa. Vanilla, perhaps?” she asks, her thumb making circles on his cheek. “Yes, vanilla.”

He pulls her closer, and in the familiar embrace, the tension that has been coiling in his stomach all day slowly begins to unravel. "Vanilla," a word that, for them, means far more than just a flavor. It is a shared language of comfort, a return to basics, a deep, gentle intimacy that always soothes his frayed nerves and grounds him in their love. It isn't about fireworks or wild passion tonight; it is about reaffirming their connection, drawing strength from the safety of their bond.

“I’m ready for you, oppa,” she whispers, guiding his hand towards her growing wetness. Seulgi moans softly as his fingers run over her sensitive area, touching her over the soft fabric of her pants. “Oppa, don’t tease me too much, please…” she mumbles.

Hyunwoo's breath hitches, the playful plea a spark that ignites a deeper need within him. He sheds the last remnants of his duty from his mind, focusing solely on the warmth of her skin, the soft sounds she makes, and the urgent desire to lose himself completely in their shared world. His hand moves under the fabric, exploring the damp heat he finds there, eliciting a soft gasp from Seulgi as she arches into his touch.

“I… I will smack you if you don’t put it in within the next minute,” she threatens, each word carrying her desire for something greater—something more carnal. A low chuckle escapes Hyunwoo, his amusement growing at the sight of her demanding want. “That won’t be necessary, baby,” he whispers back. “I want you so bad myself.”

He pushes forward, a soft groan escaping his lips as he finally buries himself inside her. The fit is perfect, a familiar homecoming that sends a wave of relief through him, melting away any lingering tension from the day. Seulgi gasps, her legs instinctively wrapping around him, pulling him closer, deeper. The rhythmic creak of the bedsprings becomes a silent testament to their shared need, their desperate desire for connection before the impending chaos.

They move together, a primal, ancient dance of two souls intertwined, each seeking and giving profound comfort, pushing away the looming danger for this precious, fleeting time. In the hushed darkness of their room, their lovemaking becomes a desperate act of reaffirmation, a silent promise to return to this sanctuary, to each other, no matter what tomorrow brings. When the last tremors subside, leaving them breathless and spent, Hyunwoo holds Seulgi tightly against him, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison, a fierce, defiant beat against the quiet encroaching dawn.

Seulgi can only chew on her nails as she watches Hyunwoo prepare, her heart thumping at the sight of her better-equipped man. No longer is he a regular street policeman: he’s now a special operative within the force. She’s proud of him, yes, but just thinking about him being in the front line with bullets flying by, terrifies her beyond words.

“It’s amazing how you can act so professionally, as if you didn’t just try to put a baby in me,” she jokes, trying to steal his attention and distract herself from her worries. Hyunwoo turns his head to the side, showing her a calm smile, his hands still busy strapping things on. “Always quick with the jokes, as if I didn’t just try to put a baby in you,” he counters. Seulgi chuckles a little as her concerns gradually disappear. “You got me, oppa.”

Hyunwoo steps away from the closet, now fully geared, minus the firearms. He walks over to Seulgi, pulling her into a tight embrace, feeling the soft tremor in her body despite her earlier attempts at levity. He buries his face in her hair one last time, breathing in her familiar scent. "I'll be careful, baby," he murmurs, his voice rumbling low. "I promise. For you, and maybe for our baby."

The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken fears and profound affection. When the discreet vibration of his comms unit signals its time, Hyunwoo reluctantly pulls away. He takes her face in his hands, his gaze locking with hers, a silent vow passing between them. He gently presses a kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment, then turns. As he heads for the door, he feels the familiar weight of the hairpin in his back pocket and the comforting presence of the strand of her hair over his heart—his twin anchors in the storm he's about to enter. He opens the door, the pre-dawn chill biting at the edges of their warm apartment, and he steps out into the silence of the hallway.

He steps into the cold silence of the hallway, the faint hum of the building's ventilation system the only sound. The warmth of their apartment and the soft scent of Seulgi, already seem miles away. Each step he takes towards the elevator feels heavier than the last, a steady march away from comfort and towards the sharp edge of duty. He presses the button for the ground floor, watching the numbers light up, counting down to the moment he steps out into the pre-dawn dark.

The police vehicle waits, engine idling, a dark, silent beast in the empty street. Inside, Jungwon is already in the driver's seat, his profile stark against the faint glow of the dashboard. "Right on time, Hyunwoo-yah," he says, his voice low and dry, lacking any humor. The atmosphere in the car is taut, charged with the quiet intensity of men preparing for battle. Hyunwoo slides into the passenger seat, the heavy weight of his rifle settling between his legs. He looks straight ahead, already mentally reviewing the operational brief, the world of his home receding into the distance, replaced by the grim reality of Operation Sunrise.

“Alright, let’s go!” Jungwon exclaims, banging on the roof of the vehicle, sending signals to those present to prepare for the worst while attempting the best. Hyunwoo closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, erasing the lingering thoughts about Seulgi and the intimacy they shared, clearing his mind for the operation ahead. “Nervous?” Jungwon asks, noticing his new partner’s behavior. “Something like that,” Hyunwoo answers, sighing heavily. “I mean, I went from a street cop to a special ops guy. I think I have the right to be nervous.” Jungwon chuckles and sighs after. “Yeah, I think you do. First times are always nerve wracking.”

"So, how do you deal with it?" Hyunwoo asks, turning his head slightly towards Jungwon, a genuine curiosity in his voice. "The nerves. The first times." The vehicle begins to move, the low rumble of the engine a counterpoint to the quiet tension inside.

Jungwon glances at him, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips, barely visible in the dim light of the dashboard. "You remember why you're doing it, Hyunwoo-yah. You remember the faces of the people you're protecting, even the ones you've never met, and then," he pauses, shifting gears as they pull onto the main road, the city lights a distant blur, "you just do your job. You trust your training, you trust your team, and you trust yourself. Everything else is just noise, and you’ll learn to shut it out." He turns his full attention back to the road, his grip firm on the steering wheel. “We’re going to be just fine, man,” Jungwon adds, offering assurance to Hyunwoo, his calm voice carrying genuine qualities.

The cars stop one block over as an attempt to be discreet, and the men cover the rest of the distance on foot, each person moving with purpose and fully understanding what to do and how to do it. The concrete pavement of the sidewalk creates echoes as their boots thump against it, the sound filling the dark that is silent otherwise.

“This is Gamma 1. Comms check,” Jungwon whispers into his radio, awaiting confirmation from his teammates. One person after another answers, whispering back their number and callsign—everyone but Hyunwoo. “Gamma 9, come in. Say something,” he demands. His captain’s voice snaps him out of his stupor, his eyes blinking rapidly as focus is regained. “Gamma 9, solid copy,” Hyunwoo finally answers. “Focus, Strider. This is not the time to fall asleep,” Jungwon reminds him.

"Understood, Gamma 1," Hyunwoo replies, his voice now crisp and devoid of any lingering hesitation. He takes a deep, steadying breath, feeling the cold metal of his rifle's foregrip against his gloved hand. The images of Seulgi and their apartment, which have flickered at the edge of his awareness, are consciously pushed back. His world shrinks to the immediate environment: the dark warehouse, the silent shadows of his team, the low static of the comms.

Jungwon's voice, relayed through the earpiece, is all business. "Teams are in position. Stone, Bone, report status." Muffled confirmations follow, along with a glint of a sniper scope that is seen on a nearby roof. "Gamma team, prepare for breach. On my mark." Hyunwoo drops into a low crouch, his eyes scanning the big metal door ahead, his training kicking in with an almost instinctual precision. The silence stretches again, broken only by the rapid thump of his own heart, a drumbeat counting down to the explosive beginning of Operation Sunrise.

“Mark!”

The slap charge blows the door open with a bang, the loud noise piercing the silent darkness, drawing the attention of those present from both sides of the operation. From other sides of the warehouse, sounds of shattered glass are heard, courtesy of the teams Stone and Bone, and one thing is clear now: the only way is forward.

“Flash out,” Jungwon commands. A couple of flashbangs are tossed around, disorienting those who get caught in the radii. Taking the small window of advantage that they have created, Gamma operatives begin moving, taking down the lesser-armed men around the perimeter.

Hyunwoo moves instinctively, his new rifle shouldering perfectly as he clears the doorway. The flashbangs' disorienting echo still rings in his ears, but his vision quickly cuts through the haze. He spots two figures, weapons raised, struggling against the blinding light. A quick, precise double tap from his rifle drops them silently. The familiar scent of cordite fills the air, a grim perfume of combat, reminding him he's truly back in the fray, deeper than ever before.

"Clear left!" Hyunwoo shouts, his voice sharp and controlled, sweeping his rifle around to scan for potential threat. Jungwon is a shadow beside him, moving with fluid efficiency, his own weapon spitting controlled bursts. They push deeper into the warehouse, the vast space dimly lit by emergency lights and the occasional muzzle flash. Boxes stacked high cast long, deceptive shadows, turning every corner into a potential ambush. The distant shouts and sporadic gunfire from Stone and Bone's sectors confirm the chaos has begun, solidifying their immediate objective: secure the perimeter, eliminate resistance, and find something to expose The Comrade and their pawns.

Hyunwoo takes cover behind a concrete pillar, peeking his head out slightly to see ahead, and his eyes widen at the massive threat in the back area. “Machine gun, machine gun, machine gun,” he warns his teammates, and they immediately take cover behind solid, less penetrable things. “Guardian, do you have visual?” Hyunwoo frantically asks for support. A confirmation rings in his ear; Guardian has his sniper rifle aimed right at the gunner. “Taking the shot,” he says. “Machine gunner down. I repeat, machine gunner is down.”

"Pushing forward!" Jungwon yells, his voice cutting through the comms. With the machine gunner neutralized, the immediate pressure eases, but the warehouse remains a labyrinth of danger. Hyunwoo sprints from his cover, his rifle sweeping, his eyes tracking movement in the oppressive shadows. Scattered gunfire still echoes from other sectors, indicating fierce resistance across the sprawling complex.

They advance systematically, clearing sections, checking behind crates and derelict machinery. The air is thick with the smell of dust, sweat, and something acrid – perhaps the lingering scent of chemicals from the drug operation. Suddenly, a figure darts from behind a stack of barrels. Hyunwoo's instincts take over, his finger already tightening on the trigger, but Jungwon barks a command: "Hold fire! Blue! Blue!" The figure, a young operative in dark tactical gear, spins to face them, his face smudged with grime but his eyes alert. "Yah," he pants, "we've got movement in the back. Heavy foot traffic heading towards the south end. Looks like they're trying to evacuate something."

“Stone team, listen,” Jungwon says to the comms, his voice laced with urgency and tension. “Prepare to engage; they’re coming your way.” Acknowledgments are heard through the comms, and the Gamma men make their way towards the back exit, hoping to pinch the bad guys between a rock and a hard place.

Hyunwoo moves with renewed purpose, his gaze fixed on the south end of the warehouse. The thought of them evacuating something crucial, possibly The Comrade himself or vital evidence, fuels a fresh surge of adrenaline. The metallic tang of anticipation fills his mouth. He can already hear the distant, muffled thud of footsteps rapidly approaching, accompanied by the clatter of what sounds like heavy equipment being dragged.

"Move! Move! Move!" Jungwon barks, urging the Gamma team forward. They sprint past towering stacks of crates, the shadows flickering around them, testing their discipline. The south exit looms ahead, a single, reinforced bay door that looks suspiciously quiet. Just as they reach it, the door suddenly snaps open, revealing a line of rifle barrels aimed at them. “Shit, take cover!” Jungwon screams, trying to get his teammates to look for safety in the face of immediate danger.

Bullets fly past them, and some are close enough to the point where Hyunwoo can hear them zipping over his head. His heart races, banging inside his chest, his breathing ragged and short. It is at this moment that he realizes he’s hiding behind a wooden crate, and before long, those gunners will try shooting through this crate to get him. In a state of panic, he sprints towards a concrete pillar that is similar to the previous one, hoping to be safe, but it was enough for one of the bad guys to put a bullet in his shoulder.

A searing pain explodes in Hyunwoo's shoulder, ripping through him and sending him sprawling against the cold concrete pillar. The impact knocks the wind from his lungs, and for a terrifying moment, all he can hear is the roar of blood in his ears, drowning out gunfire. His rifle clatters uselessly beside him. He presses his uninjured hand instinctively to the wound, his fingers coming away slick and warm.

"Strider! Status!" Jungwon's voice, strained with urgency, rips through his earpiece. Hyunwoo tries to respond, but a grunt of pain is all that escapes him. The world spins for a second, the dimly lit warehouse blurring, but a surge of adrenaline, cold and sharp, cuts through the pain. “Fuck—yah, cover Gamma 9!” Jungwon screams into the radio, trying to prevent his teammate from getting shot again.

The bullets continue to fly, impacting the pillar around Hyunwoo with sharp cracks, sending chips of concrete showering over him. He curls tighter, trying to make himself as small as possible, the pain in his shoulder now a dull, throbbing ache intensified by every jarring impact. Through the haze, he sees Jungwon’s shadowy form moving swiftly, laying down suppressing fire, forcing the enemy to pull back slightly.

Then, a heavy hand clamps down on his uninjured shoulder. "Can you move?" It's Jungwon, his face grim, eyes darting between Hyunwoo and the firing line. He doesn't wait for a full answer, already pulling Hyunwoo roughly but carefully back, away from the immediate line of fire, towards a larger, more secure barricade. "Gamma team, look to flank! Gamma 9 is down!" Jungwon yells into his comms, the urgency in his voice cutting through the ringing in Hyunwoo's ears. Hyunwoo grunts, forcing himself to his feet, leaning heavily on Jungwon, his vision still swimming, but the immediate threat of another bullet finding him spurs him onward.

Jungwon puts Hyunwoo behind a solid cover where he’s confident that he won’t get hurt again. “Hey, hey, stay with me, man,” Jungwon slaps his cheek multiple times, trying to get Hyunwoo to stay conscious. “I’m… trying,” Hyunwoo stammers, fighting the immense, searing pain on his shoulder. “M-medic… plea-please,” he begs. “They’re on their way, man. Just stay still for now.”

Hyunwoo presses his good hand harder against his shoulder, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it still seeps through his fingers, warm and sticky. His vision tunnels, narrowing to Jungwon’s grim face, then flickering to the distant flashes of gunfire. He can feel the cold creeping in, a dangerous numbness that isn’t just from the pain. He needs to stay awake. He needs to fight.

"Jungwon-ah..." Hyunwoo rasps, forcing his eyes open wide, fighting against the encroaching darkness, gripping Jungwon’s arm as hard as he can. “T-tell Seulgi, I… I love her with… everything I have.” Jungwon shakes his head vehemently, not entertaining his rambling. “Tell her yourself, man. You’re going to see her after this.” Jungwon grabs his radio, screaming into it, calling for medical help for his injured mate. “Fucking finally—hey, man, they’re almost here. Just stay with me for a minute.”

Hyunwoo’s grip on Jungwon’s arm loosens slightly, his eyelids fluttering, fighting the heavy pull of unconsciousness. The distant sounds of the raid, the shouts, the gunfire, all begin to fade into a muffled roar. He tries to focus on Jungwon's face, a blurred image against the chaotic backdrop, but the darkness is winning.

Suddenly, a new presence is beside them. Hands are on him, tearing at his uniform, and a voice, clear and concise, cuts through the haze. "Bullet's clean, through and through. Minimal arterial damage, but he's losing blood fast. Pressure here!" A tight, cold pressure clamps down on his shoulder, a different kind of pain, but one that promises relief. Hyunwoo grunts, a mix of agony and unconscious acknowledgment. He feels himself being carefully lifted, the ground shifting beneath him. He vaguely registers Jungwon's voice, now further away, giving orders, and then, the world finally dips into silent, velvet black.

Firm knocks are heard from the front door, and the loud sound stirs Seulgi from her slumber. “One second…” she mutters, dragging her feet towards the source of sound to greet whoever the hell is on the other side. She takes a look through the fisheye: there’s a woman in a police uniform at the door, the badge on her shirt similar to Hyunwoo’s. Seulgi rubs her eyes and tidies her hair, quickly removing signs of having just woken up.

“Good afternoon, officer,” she greets her, maintaining a straight face while her mind runs amok. “You must be Kang Seulgi, Kang Hyunwoo’s partner,” she says. Seulgi nods slowly, biting her lip nervously in reflex. “He has been hurt but is recovering. He asks to see you, so please follow me to the hospital,” the officer says, her voice nearly barren of emotions.

Seulgi's blood runs cold. The quiet hum of the apartment, which just hours ago was a sanctuary of shared intimacy, now feels hollow and vast. "Hurt... how badly?" she manages to ask, her voice barely a whisper, betraying the controlled composure she tries to maintain. Her earlier attempts at tidying her hair felt ludicrous, irrelevant.

The officer's eyes remain impassive, betraying nothing. "He's stable. The doctor will brief you fully at the hospital." She offers no further details, merely a slight tilt of her head, indicating the way. Seulgi swallows hard, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She grabs her phone, purse, and a sweater from the nearby hook, her movements stiff, almost mechanical. His promise to her—that he would come back in one piece—echoes in her mind, a fragile mantra against the sudden, overwhelming fear. Without another word, she steps out of her apartment, following the impassive officer into the chilling uncertainty of the afternoon.

The ride to the hospital is a blur of traffic and ringing silence inside the police vehicle. Seulgi stares out the window, but her mind is replaying snippets of the morning: the feel of his skin on hers, his warm embrace, and his hot release during their shared intimacy. Each memory is a painful counterpoint to the dread coiling in her stomach. The officer drives efficiently, occasionally glancing at her in the rearview mirror, but never offering comfort or explanation.

When they arrive, Seulgi is directed to follow a nurse to Hyunwoo’s room. As they walk together, the air in the hospital seems to grow colder and colder, forcing Seulgi to hug herself tightly, her sweater doing its best to block the cold. “He’s in this room,” the nurse points at a closed door at the end of the hallway, “please be careful around him; he’s injured, after all.”

Seulgi nods weakly, her gaze fixed on the closed door before her. She pushes the door open slowly, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. Her eyes immediately find him. He's pale, lying in the hospital bed, a pristine white bandage stark against his shoulder, a tube running from an IV drip into his arm. His eyes are closed, his breathing shallow, and for a terrifying moment, her heart stops. Then, just as tears begin to sting her eyes, his eyelids flutter open, and his gaze, though weary, finds hers. A weak, familiar smile touches his lips. "Seulgi-yah," he rasps, his voice rough. “I love you, baby.”

Seulgi instantly breaks down crying, crumbling under the weight of those four words that are otherwise lighthearted if said under any other circumstances. She puts her head on his chest, unable to bear the sight of him, usually so strong and steadfast, lying in bed in a hospital after getting injured in duty. “Baby…” he whispers, his hand searching for hers. “Please don’t cry. It’s not as bad as it seems,” he adds, trying to make the stress more bearable for her.

Seulgi sniffles, lifting her head slightly, her tear-streaked face finding his. "But... but you said you'd come back in one whole piece, oppa," she whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. She holds his searching hand, her fingers trembling slightly as they interlace with his. His skin feels warm, reassuringly so, despite the cold hospital air.

Hyunwoo manages another weak smile, his gaze steady despite the fatigue etched around his eyes. "I mean, I did come back in one piece, baby. This is just... a minor inconvenience." He squeezes her hand gently, trying to inject some of his usual playful charm into his voice, though it's still rough. Seulgi lightly smacks him on the chest. “Very funny, Kang Hyunwoo,” she snarks, but a smile is starting to bloom on her tear-streaked face.

"See? That's what I like to see," Hyunwoo rasps, his weak smile strengthening slightly as her tears begin to subside. He looks at her, his gaze filled with a profound love that transcends the sterile hospital room. He then glances towards the door, his professional urgency flickering to the surface even in his weakened state.

“Did you see any of my colleagues out there?” Seulgi follows his gaze, looking at the door like him. “I mean, just… just the female officer who brought me here.” Her gaze returns to him quickly. “Why, is there anyone you’re looking for?” He manages a small nod. “My captain,” he says. “I’m just wondering if the operation was successful.” Seulgi sighs deeply, not entirely liking him still thinking about the operation. “Let’s not think about that right now.”

Hyunwoo manages a small, rueful smile, acknowledging her unspoken concern. "I know, baby, but... it's important. We were right in the middle of it when I went down. Jungwon-ie was covering me." He winces slightly as he tries to shift, the movement tugging at his bandaged shoulder. "Did the doctor or nurse say anything else?"

Seulgi gently places her hand over his, stilling his restless movements. "No, oppa. Just that you're stable, and that the doctor will brief me properly when they come." She squeezes his hand. "Please, just rest now. You're safe. That's all that matters to me." Her gaze is unwavering, a silent plea for him to let go of the mission for a moment and focus on himself. Feeling content in the knowledge that he’s loved and cared for, Hyunwoo closes his eyes, seemingly trying to get some rest. “You’re all that matters to me, baby,” he echoes.

Seulgi watches him, a fresh wave of tears stinging her eyes, but these are tears of relief now, not terror. She gently strokes his hair, her fingers tracing the contours of his forehead, pushing away the stray strands. The room fills with a quiet calm, broken only by the soft beeping of the IV machine and the rhythmic sound of Hyunwoo’s breathing, which slowly deepens as he drifts into a much-needed, pain-medicated sleep.

“Operatives Kang Hyunwoo and Lee Jungwon,” Superintendent Park says their names out loud in front of the crowd. “For your bravery and selflessness in service with Unit 131, I present you both… the Sentinel Star.” Claps, from both fellow officers and civilians in attendance, fill the field in which they are gathered.

Hyunwoo stands tall beside Jungwon, the crisp lines of his uniform a stark contrast to the hospital gown he'd worn just weeks ago. His shoulder still twinges, a constant reminder of the chaos of Operation Sunrise, but the pain is a dull echo compared to the pride swelling in his chest. Superintendent Park's voice rings out, clear and strong, acknowledging their names in front of the assembled crowd of fellow officers, uniformed dignitaries, and a scattering of civilians.

The Sentinel Star medal, cool and heavy, settles against his chest as Park pins it on. The applause that follows is deafening, a wave of genuine appreciation that washes over him. He glances to his left, catching Jungwon's eye. His captain's usual wry humor is replaced by a solemn pride, a silent acknowledgment of the crucible they had been through together.

In the sea of faces, Hyunwoo's gaze finds Seulgi. She stands near the front, her eyes shining with tears, a proud, tender smile blooming on her lips. He offers her a small, private nod, a silent reaffirmation of his promise to always come back to her. This medal isn't just for him; it's for them, for the life they're building, for the sacrifices they both make.

Stepping off the podium, Hyunwoo makes his way towards the crowd of civilians, and Seulgi is quick to find him. She crashes into him, hugging him tightly and peppering pecks on his face, not caring about making such an affectionate scene in public. “I’m so proud of you, oppa,” she declares without even the smallest trace of hesitation in her voice. “Thank you, love. I’m so thankful for you, you know.” Seulgi giggles, her cheeks tinted in a pink hue. “You’re so—wait, what are you doing?"

Seulgi can only look at him as Hyunwoo gets down on one knee, her mouth stuck open at the sight of a velvet box in his hand. “Kang Seulgi, will you marry me?” he asks, his voice calm yet emotionally charged. Tears—an abundance of them—begin to freely flow onto her cheeks, taken completely aback by the abrupt nature of his proposal. “Yes! One thousand times yes!” Seulgi exclaims, her voice shaking with emotions.

The crowd, which has momentarily hushed in stunned silence, now erupts into a fresh wave of cheers and applause, far louder and more personal than the commendation ceremony. Seulgi throws her arms around Hyunwoo, pulling him up from his knee, her joyful sobs muffled against his neck. He holds her tight, burying his face in her hair, feeling the tremor of her happiness and relief. The ring, now gleaming on her finger, felt heavier and more precious than any medal.

Later, as the crowd thins and the formalities begin to wind down, Jungwon approaches them, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips. "Took you long enough, Strider," he quips, clapping Hyunwoo on the shoulder, careful of his still-healing wound. "Congratulations, Seulgi-ssi. You have a good one, even if he did get himself shot on his first day." Seulgi laughs, wiping away the last of her tears. "I know, Captain Lee, and thank you—for everything." Jungwon gives them a firm nod, holding back tears of his own at the sight of an emotional moment. “Again, congratulations, you two. I wish you good life together.”

That evening, after a particularly productive physical therapy session for Hyunwoo and a quiet dinner, the reality of their engagement truly settles in. The apartment is bathed in the soft glow of twilight, a hushed intimacy filling the air. Seulgi, who has been tracing lazy circles on his bandaged shoulder, looks up at him, her eyes soft with a mixture of tenderness and unyielding desire.

"You're a hero, you know," she murmurs, her fingers moving from his shoulder to his cheek. "My hero." She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a gentle invitation for something greater. "And tonight, my hero owes me some good sex." Her voice is a playful whisper, but beneath it, Hyunwoo hears the raw need, the unspoken relief that he is here, whole enough to be touched.

Hyunwoo chuckles, the sound a low rumble in his chest. "Is that so?" he rasps, his own desire stirring to life, his good arm pulling her closer. "Considering what I went through to get here, I'd say I've earned it." His fingers find the hem of her sweater, slowly gliding underneath, teasing her skin. This isn’t about comforting nerves or facing fear tonight; this is a celebration. A celebration of survival, of commitment, of a future they fight to secure.

Seulgi gasps as his touch spreads warmth through her. "Absolutely earned," she breathes, helping him shed his shirt, her gaze lingering on the scar tissue blooming on his shoulder. There is a moment of tender reverence as her fingers lightly traced the edge of the bandage. He pulls her down onto the bed, their bodies meeting with a familiar comfort, a deep sigh escaping them both. Their kisses grow more ardent, tasting of shared joy and undeniable passion. Hands explore, rediscovering familiar contours and secret places, each touch a testament to their enduring love and the vibrant life they now embraced without hesitation. The soft moans that filled the room were not of fear or pain, but of pure, unadulterated pleasure, a triumphant symphony of their engagement night.

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amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

Note

Minnie for when it doesn't fit please

Tnak you very much!

When it Doesn't Fit ft. Minnie

Minnie X BBC ---- THIS IS A FLUFFY SMUT sorry if this is not your thing. ----

Minnie stood center-frame in a cotton sundress, hair curled, lips glossy, eyes wide. She blinked into the lens. “So… I just do what he tells me?”

“Exactly,” the director said. “You’re his toy. But you like it.”

A deep chuckle came from behind her. The male lead—Marcus, 33, six-four, built like a linebacker with a slow, careful walk—stepped into frame. His grip on her waist was sudden, hard.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

Minnie gasped, caught it too late. The camera caught everything. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He leaned close, lips brushing her ear. “Stay soft. I got you.”

The scene rolled.

Marcus jerked her around, pressing her to the couch. Her dress flipped up like paper. She squealed—a practiced sound, high and sweet.

“Didn’t say you could talk,” he growled, shoving her cheek to the cushion. “You’re just a dumb little thing, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered, face flushed, toes curling on the shag carpet.

He dragged her panties down in one practiced pull. The camera caught the curve of her ass, the tremble in her thighs. Minnie let out a soft moan and arched.

Off-cam, his hand stroked her back once. Quick. Grounding.

“Keep breathing,” he murmured low, only for her. “You’re doing perfect.”

He entered her slow—just the head—and then slammed in, forcing a cry from her lips.

“Shit—too big—!” she gasped.

“That’s the point,” he snapped, fisting her hair. “You want it all, don’t you?”

She nodded frantically, mouth open, cheeks streaked with mock tears. It was all performance—but it lit her, body and breath synced to the rhythm he set.

He fucked her like she owed him something. Like he was punishing the good girl act right out of her. But between takes, between thrusts, his hand brushed hers. Gentle. His voice dipped low.

“You need me to slow down?”

She blinked back up, voice cracking but clear. “No. Keep going. Please.”

The slap of skin echoed. Hot, wet, relentless.

Marcus had Minnie bent over the armrest now, her arms pinned behind her back, her cheek flattened to leather. Her breath hitched in broken little sobs.

“Beg louder,” he said, panting. “They need to hear you want it.”

“I do—I do want it,” she cried out. “Please—fuck me harder—!”

“Good girl.”

He adjusted his angle and drove in harder. Minnie’s moans pitched higher. Her knuckles whitened against the couch.

The cameraman moved in close—right between her thighs. The light flared. Minnie blinked through the haze and kept her mouth parted just enough, eyes glassy, like a doll being used.

Marcus gripped her hips, bruising firm, his rhythm punishing. But when he leaned forward, breath in her ear, his tone dropped again.

“You alright?”

She nodded fast, hair clinging to her cheek. “I’m good. Keep going.”

“You need a break, you say it. You’re not just a prop, okay?”

“I know,” she whispered. “But… I like this.”

That smile again. Just a flicker. He straightened, all steel once more.

“Then take it.”

He pulled out and spun her onto her back, legs spread wide. Her sundress bunched at her waist, the pink cotton soaked and wrinkled. He slapped the inside of her thigh—once, sharp.

“Keep your knees open.”

Minnie gasped. Her breath caught. “Yes, sir.”

He knelt, spit on his cock, and pushed back in, slower now but no less deep. Her body took him, all of him, her mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“That’s right,” he said. “You want to be filled like this, don’t you?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

Marcus grunted, the rhythm faltering. His fingers dug deep into Minnie’s thighs as his thrusts shortened—quicker, rougher.

“You’re gonna take it,” he growled, jaw clenched, hips slamming hard. “All of it. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir—fuck—yes—”

Minnie’s legs were spread wide, trembling with the aftershock of her climax, her body twitching around him. The wet sound of him slamming into her filled the set. The crew said nothing. The camera zoomed in.

He was close.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he ordered, pulling out fast, his cock thick and glistening.

Minnie dropped to her knees without a blink, eyes wide, tongue out.

“Good girl,” he groaned, fist pumping once—twice—and then he came, hot and heavy across her lips, her cheek, the edge of her tongue.

Her hands didn’t move. She just blinked up at him, waiting.

He smeared the last streak with his thumb across her jaw, then held her chin.

“Swallow what’s in your mouth.”

She did—lips closing obediently, throat working.

“Show me.”

She opened wide. Empty.

He let out a breath. A real one. Not for show.

“Cut!” the director called. “That’s a wrap.”

Marcus’s hands dropped from dominant to careful. He knelt in front of her, wiping her face gently with a towel from his back pocket. “You alright, baby?”

Minnie nodded slowly, blinking off the daze. Her voice was hoarse, soft. “Yeah. That was... intense.”

“You crushed it.” He smiled, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Too much?”

She shook her head, laughing breathlessly. “Not enough.”

He kissed her forehead—quick, no audience for that part—and helped her to her feet.

“Go hydrate. I’ll be right there.”

She smiled back, still flushed, glowing.

“You hungry?” Minnie asked, tossing it over her shoulder as she pulled off her mic.

Marcus had followed without a word. Now they sat across from each other, her hoodie zipped to the chin, damp hair clinging to her jaw. She toyed with a slice of boiled egg in her broth.

“I didn’t expect you to be so… careful,” she said finally, eyes on her spoon. “First time working with someone, I figured it’d be all business.”

Marcus leaned back, chopsticks resting on his bowl. “Wasn’t business to me.”

She glanced up, lips twitching. “That your line for every new girl?”

“No,” he said. “Just the ones I don’t want to forget.”

Silence. Then her laugh—short, surprised.

“Well,” she said, “you definitely didn’t treat me like a stranger.”

“You didn’t act like one,” he replied. “You gave me something real back there. Most first-timers don’t.”

Minnie leaned in a little, elbows on the table. “You think I was acting?”

“Not all of it.” He looked her dead in the eye. “When you looked up at me, mouth open, eyes wet—I felt that.”

Her breath caught, just for a second.

“I’ve been in this game a while,” he continued. “But with you? I had to remember we just met. My body didn’t care. It wanted more than the take.”

She stirred her noodles slowly. “You saying you caught feelings? From one scene?”

“Not feelings,” he said. “Instinct. Like I want another shot. Off the clock.”

She stared at him for a beat. “But why? You could fuck me again anytime the schedule says so.”

Marcus leaned forward, voice low and steady.

“Because I don’t want to fuck you on command. I want to fuck you when your guard’s down. When you’re messy. When it’s not for anyone but us.”

Minnie’s cheeks went pink again, this time from heat that had nothing to do with lighting or camera angles.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” He smiled, soft and sure. “I know the sound you make when you’re right on the edge. I know you smiled when I checked in between takes. That matters more than your resume.”

She bit her lip, silent for a long second.

“Alright,” she said. “So maybe I want a second shot, too.”

Marcus picked up his chopsticks. “Then we start with dessert.”

The door clicked behind them and Minnie had him by the collar, dragging him into a kiss that left no room for guessing.

“Still want that off-the-clock fuck?” she breathed, fingers already at his shirt buttons.

Marcus smiled against her mouth. “You sure about that?”

She leaned in, lips barely brushing his. “Only if I get to call you sir again.”

That word did something to him. His grip tightened. He lifted her easily, hands under her thighs, and walked her to the couch without breaking the kiss. Her hoodie was gone by the time they landed. Nothing underneath—just warm skin and need.

She sprawled beneath him, tugging his belt loose. “God, you’re already hard.”

“You do that to me.”

She palmed him through his pants, eyes dark with mischief. “Still big off set,” she whispered. “Still trying to ruin me?”

He raised a brow. “Thought I already had.”

“Mm.” She kissed his jaw. “Not even close.”

She pushed him back and climbed on, straddling his lap. When his cock sprang free—thick, heavy, flushed—her breath caught.

“Jesus. It’s worse without the angles.”

He leaned back, watching her face. “Back out now.”

Instead, she grabbed him and lined him up. Slowly, torturously, she sank down. Her body trembled. Her mouth parted in a broken gasp.

“F-fuck, it’s—too much—”

“You got it,” he murmured, voice rough. “Take your time, baby.”

Her fingers clawed his shoulders. She moved in slow circles, letting herself open around him, adjusting inch by inch. Her brows knit. Her thighs quivered.

“I forgot how full this feels,” she panted. “You’re fucking stretching me, sir—”

“That’s it.” His grip slid down to her hips. “Look at you. Taking all of me.”

She began to ride—hips working in slow, needy rolls. Every bounce pushed a whimper from her lips. Her breasts swayed, perfect and soft, drawing his eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned. “These tits—fuck.”

She laughed, breathless. “They’re not even that big.”

“I don’t care. They’re perfect. I love how they move when you ride me. I could watch you forever.”

Minnie bit her lip, face flushed. “God, I love when guys say that. Makes me feel filthy in the best way.”

He grabbed her ass, thrusting up to meet her rhythm. “You are filthy. And it’s hot as hell.”

She moaned louder. Her pace quickened, grinding harder now, every movement slicker, wetter.

“You’re unreal,” he growled, staring up at her. “Like you were made for this cock.”

“I was,” she gasped. “You make me feel—fuck—you make me feel everything.”

Her thighs trembled harder. She buried her face in his neck.

“I’m close—Marcus—fuck—”

He held her tighter. “You okay?”

“Perfect,” she whispered, shivering. “But I want it deeper. Please—wreck me.”

He shifted her gently off, kissed her shoulder, and turned her around, bending her over the couch cushions. She looked back, cheeks flushed, mouth open.

“You gonna ruin me, sir?”

He slid in from behind, slow at first, then harder. Her cry was immediate, sharp and raw.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” she begged.

He did. Hips crashing into her, his hands gripping her waist, then her breasts, kneading them as she rocked back against him. Her sounds filled the room—desperate, high-pitched.

One hand slid down. He rubbed her clit just right.

“I’m—Marcus—I can’t—fuck—”

“Yes you can. Let go.”

Her body clenched, then unraveled. She screamed, voice hoarse, as she squirted hard, soaking his thighs, her legs shaking.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. “I can’t stop—”

He was right behind her. A few more thrusts and he groaned, loud, grabbing her tight as he came—deep, spilling everything inside.

They collapsed, tangled, breathless.

For a while, neither of them moved.

Minnie finally laughed, low and stunned, still catching her breath. “You just fucked the sense out of me.”

Marcus leaned in, kissed her shoulder, then her neck. “You’re fucking incredible.”

She rolled to her knees and looked up at him, eyes gleaming. “You’re not done, are you?”

He chuckled, one brow lifted. “After that? Thought I drained you.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Not me. You.” She slid down his chest, kissing each inch along the way.

His cock was still half-hard, glistening and sensitive. She ran her tongue along the base and up the shaft, then took him in her mouth—slow, loving, no rush. He let out a shaky breath.

“God, Minnie,” he groaned. “You’re a rising pornstar and your mouth is already one of the best in the damn business.”

She hummed around him, proud and smug. Her fingers worked what her lips couldn’t, slick sounds filling the room as she sucked him back to full attention. His thighs tensed.

She pulled off just long enough to smile up at him. “Then let me remind you what got me signed.”

And she did—slow at first, then faster, deeper, lips flushed, spit stringing between strokes. Her eyes never left his. His hands tangled in her hair.

“Minnie—fuck, I’m gonna—”

She didn’t stop. She sucked harder, pulled every twitch from him as he came again, groaning deep, spilling hot and thick into her mouth.

She swallowed, licked him clean, and sat up with a smug little wipe of her mouth.

He stared at her, dazed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m in love,” she said softly, brushing his cheek. “Or dangerously close.”

He reached for her, pulled her into his lap, and kissed her like he believed it.

“Think we’re in trouble?” she whispered against his lips.

“Only if falling for you counts.”

She smiled, melted against him. “Love at first fuck?”

He nodded. “No question.”

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amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

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Can we have Chungha in when it doesn’t fit?

When it Doesn't Fit ft. Chungha

The ballroom gleams under chandeliers like a sea of stars.

Chungha moves through it like she belongs. Diamond dust clings to her skin, her black satin gown hugging every curve, the slit high, the neckline scandalous. No one sees the magic flickering at her heels, the glow of enchantment threatening to unravel. The clock ticks louder in her head than in the hall.

At the edge of the dance floor stands the prince—broad-shouldered, deep-skinned, golden-eyed. An African prince. Tall, commanding, the kind of man who looks carved from night and fire. A stranger. Her last hope.

He catches her gaze. His brows lift in silent question. She doesn’t wait. She walks up to him like the spell commands her to, hips rolling, voice silk.

"Dance with me."

He chuckles, rich and low. "I was hoping you’d say that."

His hand fits snug at her waist. She guides the rhythm. Chest to chest, her breath dances over his neck.

"What are you running from?" he asks softly.

She meets his eyes. "The clock."

Minutes pass. The spell tightens around her ribs like a corset. One wrong move and she unravels into rags.

"Come with me," she whispers.

She leads him through a side door, down candlelit halls, into a velvet-draped chamber. Magic hums in her skin. Her fingers unfasten his coat before he speaks.

"What are we doing?"

"I have to make you cum," she breathes, pressing her lips to his ear, "before midnight. Or I lose everything."

He stares, stunned. Then smiles slowly. "Then we better hurry."

She pushes him onto the bed. Climbs over him. Her gown pools around her hips. No panties. She grinds against the bulge in his trousers, wet heat slicking through velvet.

"Let me taste you first," she murmurs.

She kisses down his chest, over firm abs, then unfastens his pants.

When she frees his cock, her breath catches. It’s huge. Thick, dark, veined. A length that makes her hesitate.

"Oh my god..." she whispers, fingers wrapping around the base. She can’t even close her hand fully around it.

He watches her reaction with a smirk. "Too much?"

She licks her lips. "We’ll find out."

She leans in and runs her tongue up the side, slow and reverent, then circles the head, savoring the weight of him.

"Chungha..." he groans.

She smiles, then opens wide, lips stretching as she takes him into her mouth. It’s a stretch—literally. Her jaw aches by the time she gets halfway.

She moans around him, saliva dripping down his shaft as she works him with slow, messy strokes. Her eyes water. She keeps going.

He groans, hand in her hair. "Shit. Your mouth is heaven."

She bobs her head, tongue curling under the head with every pass. She pulls off with a gasp, wiping her mouth.

"You're massive," she pants. "But I want it all."

Straddling him, she guides the thick head to her slick entrance.

"Ready?" he asks, gripping her hips.

She nods, biting her lip. "Just... go slow."

He pushes in. Just the tip. She gasps.

"F-fuck... you're splitting me."

He waits, letting her adjust. Then another inch. Her walls clench tight around him.

"So full... oh god, I can feel every inch."

She rocks her hips, easing more of him inside. Inch by inch, she takes him, face flushed, breath shallow.

Finally, he’s fully seated. She whimpers, trembling. Her pussy hugs him tight, stretched around his impossible size.

"You okay?"

She nods, eyes wild. "Fuck me. Hard. Now."

He thrusts up. She cries out, then rides him hard, hips snapping, wet slaps echoing through the room.

"You’re perfect," he groans. "So fucking tight."

The clock chimes. One strike.

She moves faster. His cock fills her again and again, her climax building sharp and deep.

Two strikes.

"Cum for me," she begs, digging nails into his chest. "Please—now."

He groans, head tilting back. She grinds harder, deeper. Her walls flutter. His cock twitches.

He gasps. His hands lock on her ass.

He cums, cock pulsing inside her, spilling deep. Her back arches. Magic explodes behind her eyes.

The chime halts.

Twelve.

But she’s still here. Still dressed in black satin, prince panting beneath her.

"You did it," he whispers, stunned.

She leans down and kisses him, breathless.

"No," she murmurs. "You did."

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amiblockdlol · 1 hour ago

Note

A BWC featuring Red Velvet Wendy, where she goes to shower at the gym and enters by accident the mens showers while its empty, when she already took her clothes off a guy enters, but because he is hot she asks him if he "wants to make her sweat again" so he fucks her hard

The gym showers hissed behind a curtain of fog, tile echoing with water and the occasional metallic groan of pipes.

Wendy stepped barefoot onto the warm floor, her towel slung carelessly around her hips. Thirty-one and in the best shape of her life—tight core, lean legs, glistening skin that still held the sheen of a brutal leg day. Her sports bra and shorts were stuffed in the locker. She meant to head to the women’s showers, but the hallway signs had been confusing.

She pushed through the wrong door.

Then saw the row of urinals beside the sinks.

"Oops," she muttered with a grin, stepping inside anyway. The room was empty. She didn’t see a reason to backtrack.

Steam thick enough to swallow shapes whole filled the space. She moved under the spray, head tilted back, water slicking down her spine. Her fingers slid between her legs, slow and idle. Just easing the throb out.

Then a door creaked open.

Footsteps. Firm. Male.

Wendy didn’t flinch. She turned, the mist curling off her shoulders, arms at her sides.

The man was tall, dark-haired, bare-chested with a towel riding low on his hips. Square jaw. Eyes that lingered.

He paused, gaze raking her naked body without hesitation. "You're in the wrong shower."

She looked him over. Broad chest, cut abs, the shadow of something thick beneath the towel.

"Am I?" she asked, voice low. "Guess I got lucky."

He raised a brow. "You always this bold?"

"Only when the dick’s worth it."

He stepped closer. No words. Just dropped the towel.

She looked down—her eyes widened slightly.

"Damn... that’s a bit much," she muttered, more impressed than afraid. As a petite Korean woman, she knew her limits—and this man was pushing them.

He smirked. "You want to back out?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I want to see if you’re all show or if you can make me cum."

That grin disappeared. He stepped in—no kissing, no soft hands. Just gripped her waist and lifted her like she weighed nothing, slamming her back against the cold tile. Her legs wrapped around his torso, arms bracing on his shoulders.

His mouth found her nipple without hesitation. No warning. Sucked hard. Bit harder.

"Ah—fuck," she hissed.

He switched to the other one, biting harder this time. Tongue rough, wet. He didn’t ask if she liked it. He didn’t have to. Her thighs clenched tighter.

"You feel that?" he growled, his cock pressed between her legs. "That’s for you, sweetheart."

She gasped as he rubbed against her slit, not even inside yet.

"Give it to me."

He thrust in.

Her whole body jolted. One hard shove buried him deep. Her breath caught. Her walls stretched. Her head thudded back against tile.

"Oh my God—"

"Take it."

He didn’t let her adjust. He fucked into her, deep and slow, driving every inch in with ruthless control. Her breath broke into short, sharp gasps. He filled her completely, each thrust punching a soft moan from her throat.

She gripped him tighter, nails scoring his shoulders.

"Fuck—right there. Don’t stop. Don’t—"

He didn’t. He just watched her fall apart.

Her climax hit hard, legs jerking, back arching as her body clamped around him. A loud cry spilled from her lips, half English, half Korean. She came fast and fierce, shuddering in his grip.

He groaned, holding her through it, cock still throbbing inside her.

When she could breathe again, she panted, "Your turn. Sit down."

He set her down slowly, his shaft slick with her arousal. She pointed at the bench. He obeyed, lowering himself.

She climbed onto his lap, eyes locked to his. No names. No need.

"You earned a good ride," she said, sinking down on his cock.

He moaned low. "Fuck, that’s tight."

She bounced slowly, building rhythm. Wet slaps echoed between them.

He gripped her hips. "Goddamn, baby. Ride it. Just like that."

Her tits bounced with every motion, nipples still swollen from his mouth.

"You like this, don’t you? Being used by some girl who doesn’t even know your name?"

"Fuck yeah," he groaned. "Keep going, fucktoy."

She clenched around him. "Say that again."

"Tight little fucktoy. Look at you, using me."

She rode him harder.

His head tipped back, lips parting. She saw the break in him coming.

"Where do you want it?" she asked.

He looked up, sweat dripping down his chest. "Inside. I want to feel you dripping with it."

"Then fill me."

She slammed down again and again until his grip crushed her hips and he groaned, spilling deep inside. Thick. Hot.

She ground her hips once more, milking him.

Then stood slowly, his cum dripping down her thigh.

She stretched, turning the shower back on.

"Close the door on your way out."

He exhaled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

She smiled to herself, never turning around.

278 notes · View notes

amiblockdlol · 2 hours ago

Text

Seulgi: Going Native Pt.1

2.6k words. #Seulgi #BBC #BLACKED #BNWO #interracial #explicit #NSFW #mindbreak #noncon Seulgi takes a trip to a small and unassuming island for peace, relaxation and solitude, but the natives have other plans for her.

Seulgi had wandered alone into the jungle a couple days prior on a solo camping trip, the allure of misty mountains and fresh green foliage were too strong of a draw for her to ignore. Her bag laid in the corner of the hut, her belongings still neatly packed away, she'd never made it to the campsite in the mountains. She'd taken a boat ride over to a small island and got caught in a deluge soon after.

Seulgi had sought shelter with a native tribe during the freak rain storm that brought heavy winds and hail along with it, she'd seen pictures of the natives, but these were kind of freaky. They had coal black skin, their eyes were a hazy light grey to almost albino white as if they were blind, but they possessed freakishly good eyesight and could spot prey animals from a long distance.

The first night had gone fine, they'd fed her and gave her fresh water and a place to sleep until the storm subsided, except the storm didn't subside. For three days the storm continued on battering the island and shattering trees, sending boulders and mud tumbling down the sides of cliffs and valleys in huge oceans of dirt that buried everything in its path.

When the evening of the second day came around things took a turn, and not a good one for Seulgi as she was drugged with hallucinogenics and repeatedly groped, molested and played with by the native men who marveled at her pale skin and pretty face, they especially loved her tight little ass and enjoyed putting their fingers into her mouth and pussy, sometimes forcing her to taste herself before they would leave.

They tied her to a wall with natural cordage, not that she'd get far in the storm, they brought more of the drug to her and when she refused to ingest it they spiked her regular food with it. As if it weren't enough they also put it in her water, which she guzzled down desperately whenever it was offered, but soon after the hallucinations began and she spent the early hours of the morning screaming at figures and monsters that weren't even there.

When dawn broke she managed a couple hours of sleep before being awakened by a bucket of water splashing across her face, gasping with puffy red eyes as she stirred back to reality and screamed as the group of men had returned with menacing looks on their faces, their pale eyes glowing in the dark hut as they approached her.

What looked to be the village chief stormed into the hut and began shoving and slapping the men with heavy resounding contact, he ordered them to leave then turned his eyes on Seulgi. She stared into his eyes, they had blood red pupils surrounded by white, they frightened her to look at as he ran his hand across her naked body and helped himself to a handful of her jiggly ass.

At this point Seulgi had enough, she thrashed in her bindings as his fingers brushed over her pussy lips and gripped tightly into her ass, but as she writhed he stepped back with a smile and looked her over while stroking his chin. He said something she couldn't understand to another man who immediately took off running, then the chief himself turned around to leave, giving her one last glance before doing so.

She writhed in her bindings for hours without contact, listening as the wind dissipated and became a gentle breeze, then the rain became only a drip from the edges of the thatched roof hut. Eventually two women came to the hut and gave her water, dipping wads of moss into the bucket and scrubbing her entire body clean, she shook uncomfortably as they brushed the cold water across her skin.

The women left and two men came to get her, cutting her restraints and hauling her out across the village at twilight. Every villager was lined up with a narrow path through them for her to be led, all of them with torches, some with bone piercings through their noses, lips and ears, their skin like black leather covered in dark red paint.

She was brought to a huge stone altar with a towering carved wooden figure looming over it, two massive stone braziers flanked the figure with bonfires as she was bent over the altar and had her hands and ankles tied to wooden posts sunk into the ground.

Petrified with fear and feeling too paralyzed to speak, Seulgi couldn't believe what was happening as she began to cry and hallucinate once again, the fires turning into psychedelic figures that seemed to dance in the braziers while the wooden figure stared down without mercy at her fragile body.

The massive crowd had fallen silent as the chief stood behind the altar, his hands dipping into a wooden bowl of red pigment powder before smacking them against Seulgi's shoulders to leave red handprints on her back, then he moved behind her and left two on her ass.

He shouted something and the crowd began to chant in unison as a massive hulking tribesman walked barefoot with loud lumbering strides through wet mud. Seulgi looked behind her with her eyes going wide as the moon that was rising in the sky, the last rays of the sun dying as darkness surrounded the village. His cock was massive, swinging side to side with every step as he approached and two tribesmen adjusted Seulgi's restraints so she was fully bent over the altar with her ass sticking out.

Seulgi didn't even want to look back, she wanted to close her eyes and wake up from this nightmare but what she saw when she closed them was even worse than whatever she was seeing with them open. The massive tribesman stopped behind her, the crowd fell silent as a single drum began to beat slowly, one bang on the stretched leather every few seconds until the chief pulled a green powder from his belt and blew it across Seulgi's face.

The drums quickened, picking up the pace until Seulgi felt a new sensation taking over her, she felt like she was intoxicated, drunk, light headed, her eyes misting over as she stared up into the fiery braziers and felt a massive hand slap her bare ass. Two women rushed to the altar and began to oil the breeding bulls cock until it dripped, their hands smearing the oil across Seulgi's pussy and ass, their fingers working it inside her before they ran back to the crowd.

The drums ceased immediately, the tribesman let out a deep howl and without warning penetrated Seulgi in front of everyone. His massive overgrown 11 inch dick slammed forward into her and bulged her tummy without a shred of mercy, his giant hands wrapping around her tight waist to pull himself deeper and deeper as he began to pump in and out in front of everyone.

Seulgi couldn't even scream as his cock split her wide around his shaft, her pussy stretched to its limits around the fattest coal black dick she could have ever imagined and all she could do was lay against the lukewarm stone rolling her eyes before the carved wooden figure.

Seulgi panted and rolled her eyes with every thrust, the wind being knocked from her lungs as he pumped her deep and hard, whatever they'd drugged her with seemed to be acting as a hallucinogenic and aphrodisiac on her as well as numbing the pain in her lower body. The bulls hips slammed forward into her cunt, the mixed oil and creaming cunt foam lubricating his massive bull dick into a dripping mess falling from his balls.

She didn't know what was happening to her but as the breeding went on she couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of a huge throbbing cock deep inside her, she could feel him bulging her fit tummy against the hard stone, the drugs overwhelming her mind as she felt tingling bliss in every inch of her body.

The bull pressed her hard against the altar with his hips burying the majority of his black dick inside her, his balls slapping against her clit and thighs as one of her ankle bindings snapped and she was able to lift her leg with her toes curling in absolute pleasure.

She could feel her voice coming back, groaning dully as the bull snarled behind her like a wild animal, his grunting primal and deep. He reached up and snapped both of her bindings on her wrists, grabbing both arms and pinning them behind her back so he could continue pounding away without resistance, not that she would offer any at this point.

"Fu.. fuck!" Seulgi moaned, staring into the brazier and seeing what looked like children running around someone that resembled her, she closed her eyes in pleasure as she felt his BBC deep in her guts rearranging her internally. His pace quickened again and he was now destroying her hole with his girthy black dick, making her scream for the crowd that remained silent as an ancient graveyard, not a single whisper was heard, the only sounds in the entire village were Seulgi's moans, the bulls grunts and the wet slapping of hips pressing together.

He grabbed her roughly and pulled her upward until the final binding around her ankle broke and he was free to manhandle her body completely. He shoved her up onto the altar until she was prone with her legs kicking in the air, he climbed on top and continued to fuck her deeply, his sagging black balls resting between her thighs as she gripped the coarse edge of the altar.

His large hand gripped the back of her head and pulled her back, his other hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing roughly. "F-fuck, fuuuucckk!" Seulgi screamed, the sweat pouring down her face as he manhandled her, "breed me with your black dick!" she screamed, "I want your big black babies!" she blurted out, unable to stop herself as he pummeled away without pausing.

Dominated and completely surrendered, Seulgi couldn't help but give in to the pleasure as her body tingled all over, the pain from the pounding completely numbed by the drugs infused into her body, the absolute bliss overwhelmed her as she begged and pleaded for black breeding, screaming for black seed deep inside her and she didn't even care that she didn't know him.

The bull grunted, choking her until she went deep red in the face and wrapped her hands around his strong wrists to beg and gasp for air, she felt her windpipe nearly collapsing, her face turning from red to purple as she clawed for even the slightest gasp.

The bull groaned as he rose to his hands and pressed them to the back of her neck, his full heavy weight pressing into her as Seulgi exploded on his massive black dick, squirting all over his shaft until it dripped down the stone to the dirt below.

The bull buried himself inside her and let loose a stream of cum that seemed endless, it felt as if he were pissing seed into her with it gushing out around his shaft, dripping down to join her own cum on the side of the altar. Seulgi panted with her feet kicking into the air, toes still curled as the crowd cheered and banged on anything they could find.

The bull pulled from her with a wet flopping sound, slapping his spent bull cock against her ass cheeks before he left her and walked away in the wet mud. Seulgi laid still, tribesmen came and again tied her down, her extremities spread wide as she was reset against the altar. She heard the bulls steps disappearing but then another set approaching from behind, the drums began once again, the crowd chanted and the ritual repeated.

Well into the night Seulgi was used, between sessions she was given more of the psychedelic laced water, her face contorting, screaming, begging for more seed until a total of seven bulls had bred her. When the final bull had finished she was cut from her binding and held on her knees before the altar, the chief stepping in front of her and handing his cloak to a tribesman.

He held his arms out as he was undressed, then turned to the altar and looked up with a wide smile before he bent over the altar himself and presented his black asshole. Seulgi looked incredulously for a moment, "what the fuck?" she asked, but she was soon forced forward with a hand on the back of her head forcing her face into the chiefs ass.

The smell intoxicated her quickly and against her better judgment, and even against her will, her tongue hang from her mouth as she dragged it across his nasty unwashed asshole. It tasted terrible, she hated every moment of it, but as the hand on her head pulled away and released her she found she couldn't stop, her hands even reached up and began to spread his cheeks so she could get in deeper, her tongue penetrating his hole deeply as she slobbered all over him until it dripped off his balls and down his thighs.

Her hands reached up between his legs and stroked his 10 inch BBC while she hungrily lapped, licked, kissed and rolled her eyes at the disgusting taste, the drugs impairing her mind as she gave in to total degeneracy, struggling to repress the intrusive thoughts about how she hoped one of those bulls had successfully impregnated her.

She milked him desperately, her hands wrapping and rolling around his hard shaft, the dripping precum from his tip rolled down the altar and added to the lust filled stains the other bulls had left behind in their haste. She tongued at his ass hungrily, intoxicated as the drugs pulsed through her veins and sent her blood pumping like a freight train in her arteries. The rush of degeneracy was what she was missing for so long, as she tasted his nasty grimy black ass on her lips and tongue, then heard him groaning as he came, she knew this is what drew her to St Marius.

She lifted her mouth from his ass, leaning down to wrap her tongue around the tip to drink in a dripping strand of his cum, it coated her tongue in a rich salty flavor that helped wash the taste of his disgusting ass away momentarily.

Seulgi was lifted to her feet, the seed dripping from her thighs as she hobbled with assistance back to the hut. "Please don't," she begged, waving her hand to try and stop them from tying her up again, this time they were kind enough to tie her hands much lower to the wall so they wouldn't go numb. As the dawn broke again she laid back against the bamboo wall and her eyes began to drift into sleep, the drugs wearing off and aching pain setting into her lower body.

But even as the drugs left her system she conflicted between regret and absolute pleasure, reliving the night over and over again in flashes, she'd never done anything so wild and the degeneracy of it all, the way she was forced into it, it woke something up inside her that she longed for, something she had been missing and craving for years.

"BBC," she said, realizing she could never leave this village now, that she had found what the missing piece was.

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amiblockdlol · 2 hours ago

Note

fr every time she goes to a kia tigers game haseul always makes sure to fuck the players in their changing room

Flashed them a teasing smirk and pants started falling to the ground.

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amiblockdlol · 2 hours ago

Text

Mina x Kazuha: Jungle Fever

Part of my St Marius Island series, see my masterlist for more chapters. 2.8k words Mina x Kazuha, BLACKED, interracial, outdoor sex, lesbian sex

Mina and Kazuha were off on another adventure taking a new trail into the islands jungle, one that looked a little unkempt and not traveled often. Large vines creeped up the softly swaying trees, monkeys scampered up and down the trunks, they saw native deer and animals running about the leaf litter beneath the sprawling dense forest with rays of sunlight barely able to penetrate beyond the leafy canopy. They came upon a long flight of old looking clay steps that descended to a fork in the trail, a well-worn sign read "waterfall" pointing in one direction, the other sign pointed toward a trail with only fragments of lettering remaining on the weathered wood.

They took the waterfall trail, dressed in sportswear with their bikinis on underneath, hair tied back in tight ponytails as their daypacks jostled around on their backs full of water and snacks. They came across a wide open area full of mossy rocks and jagged cliffs, the small waterfall pouring gently into a crystal clear pool where they could see to the shallow bottom. They smiled and wasted no time jumping in, taking off their outerwear to reveal matching bright white bikinis. The bottom of the pool was soft and sandy, it felt good around their toes as the touch of little glinting fish darting around their feet made them giggle.

They waded up to the waterfall, hip deep in the refreshingly cool water until they could reach their hands out to run them through the softly pouring falls. They laughed and splashed each other, jumping up and down in the water as they played and grabbed at one another, occasionally kissing gently before playfully trying to get away. When they'd had their fun of butt grabbing and laughing they washed away the sweat they'd built up on the trail, scrubbing one another and kissing in the lukewarm water that poured across their tight bodies.

Kazuha took Mina in a deep kiss, one hand around her waist, the other on the side of her head, her tongue strongly pushed Mina's back and she gladly invaded her mouth as their lips massaged one another. They were grinding against one another as Mina found herself with her back pressed to a large smooth rock and her tongue becoming a slave to Kazuha's lips as she sucked on it. She felt Kazuha's hand slip into her bikini bottom, moaning into her mouth as her pussy was rubbed slowly, she returned the favor and both of them began to moan to one another.

They played with one another, their legs brushing as fingers slipped into their pussies and thumbs rested on each others clits, driving one another crazy with circular motions. They trailed kisses up and down each others necks and chests and across their shoulders until they peeled off the bikini tops and Mina began to suck on Kazuha's small breasts, flicking her tongue across each nipple lightly before wrapping her lips around it. "Mina!" Kazuha moaned, fingering her friend furiously, both moaning with their hands working their bodies.

She felt Mina's legs squeeze around her hand, moaning as her forehead pressed against her upper chest. "I'm cumming Kazuha!" She moaned softly, her hips underwater as she gripped Kazuha's slender waist with both arms. Her mouth wide, eyes rolling into her head as she came, her hips grinding mindlessly against Kazuha's hand as she grinned and continued fingering her hard and deep. Mina rested against Kazuha, panting as Kazuha stroked her wet hair and kissed her forehead lovingly, the two embraced for a couple minutes before Mina pulled Kazuha from the water and laid her back on a rock, her beautiful body spread across it, abs pulled tight with her bikini bottoms removed to show a hairless wet pussy.

Mina spread Kazuha's legs wide open with her hands, her big beautiful lips pressed to her pussy as her tongue dragged itself across the swollen wet slit, drawing a moan from her friend. Kazuha's hands gripped Mina's wet hair and pulled her in gently as her tongue darted in and out with Mina's thumb caressing her swollen clit. "Little slut," Kazuha giggled to her before she laid back and stared up at the rays of light shining down through the thick canopy, it felt so good to have a slippery tongue pleasuring her as she pinched her own nipples and moaned deeply.

She already felt her own orgasm building, her back arched upward feeling Mina's hands cup her tight asscheeks with a firm squeeze while she feasted on that wet cunt. "Yes! Harder babe!" She shouted, pinching her nipples harder as Mina obliged and stuck a couple fingers up her pussy to thrust in and out, her tongue now assaulting her clit with vigorous flicking and licking. She felt it from her head to her toes, a wave of heat fell over her entire body and met in the middle, exploding outward onto Mina's lips, tongue and cheeks, she squirted hard, her legs trembled and she moaned softly up into the trees.

The two giggled, Mina climbing on top of Kazuha to feel her tongue lick her own juices off Mina's face, swapping it back and forth in their mouths as their tongues wrestled once more. They spent minutes making out, tenderly touching one another, cleaning each other up and giggling into kisses. They held one another tightly before sitting up at the sound of a stick breaking. They heard footsteps on the loud leafy forest floor, a man and a womans, both drawing closer.

They hurried to get dressed, hastily putting their outerwear back on as the couple came into view. One was a rather well built and tall native man, his arms were massive, abs flexing with every step, his thighs thick as tree trunks. The other looked to be his wife, she had wide hips, an hourglass body figure and huge ebony breasts that hung freely as she walked and clinged a wooden bucket in her hands. They both waved and smiled at Mina and Kazuha, who smiled and waved back. They couldn't help but notice the woman's massive chest in comparison to their own and the mans huge swinging black cock under the thin cloth that barely covered his genitals.

The man continued staring at the girls with a smile, his muscular frame leaned against a tree as his wife collected water, Kazuha giggled as his BBC began to stand erect, pushing the cloth to the side just like the natives they'd been with days before. "Oh my," Mina gasped, covering her mouth as they watched his cock continue to grow, swelling until it was 11 inches long and pulsing so hard it bounced every time his heart beat.

He said something to his wife, who instantly noticed his hard cock and looked up at the girls. They watched as the black woman began to stroke him, his hand motioned them to come down off the rock. It wasn't unusual for men on the island to have multiple partners, or to sleep with random unmarried women, by native custom any unmarried woman was free game regardless of the males status and his wife would have to allow it or face punishment.

They giggled, biting their lips and looking at each other before they smiled and nodded while going "mmmhmmmm" in sync with one another. They already knew what to do as soon as they got down to them, falling to their knees as Mina wrapped her hands around his heavy balls and Kazuha wrapped her lips around his hard cockhead, it was already spilling out huge gobs of precum onto her tongue, it tasted salty and sweet, she instantly craved more.

His wife slapped the hard black cock against Kazuha's cheeks, letting her feel the weight of his heavy shaft as it left small red imprints on her smooth skin. Mina's puffy lips found themselves now suckling his balls hungrily, massaging them with her tongue as she moaned into them and watched Kazuha giggle with every slap of his dick against her face. The woman let go of his shaft and he plunged it deep into Kazuha's mouth, his package momentarily receiving the full service from two hungry Japanese mouths

Mina felt soft hands wrap around her from behind, a pair of very hefty breasts sandwiching the sides of her head as she was gently pulled away. She stood up and turned, admiring the black womans beautiful body, her thick ebony lips, strong child birthing hips, hair pulled back into a tight bun, thighs that looked like they could crush melons and a gorgeous face with deep dark brown eyes that stared into hers.

They smiled at each other, holding hands as Kazuha gagged on the mans big black cock loudly, the sound of her throat pulling off and leaving a nasty trail of spit that drooped in long strands before she buried her face on it again. Mina felt awkward as she smiled and her hand gently squeezed one of the womans breasts, it squished nicely in her hand and she couldn't stop herself from laughing. The woman laughed too before Mina tentatively leaned in to bury her face between them. The woman laughed and wrapped her arms around Mina, pulling her in and shaking her chest side to side, saying something in the native language she didn't understand.

Kazuha continued slurping and sucking on his BBC like a cock starved slut, gulping more than half down into her throat and forcing herself to bulge slightly. He was so thick and long, it felt so good pulsing on her tongue as her eyes locked with his and his strong hands gripped her wet hair to force her deeper until she gagged loudly. He pumped her hard, using her like a toy with his strong hips taking what he pleased from her throat, coating it in sticky precum until he felt content with allowing her to breathe. He laughed as he turned to see Mina, her face buried in shaking black tits, but his laughted abated quickly when he saw her hips in tight orange shorts, her shapely ass sticking straight out.

His hands tore them from her without mercy, slapping Mina's bare ass and leaving large red handprints on it. His eyes widened, his cock pulsed and he shoved it straight into her wet cunt without warning, bottoming out and wasting no time setting a fast pace to thrust deep into her tight pussy. Kazuha rubbed herself as she kneeled behind him, his strong black ass in her face as she wrapped her hands around his cheeks and spread them before shoving her face straight in. Her tongue licked at his asshole hungrily, rimming him like a depraved whore with his cock balls deep inside Mina who was screaming into the chesty black woman that held her upright.

He groaned deeply and slowed down, his thrusts barely moving inside Mina but still she screamed with even the tiniest movement, every tiwtch made her moan as she felt her pussy stretch so wide around his throbbing member. Kazuha lapped at his sweaty hole like a dog, eating his ass with approving groans and a strong black hand around the back of her head to hold her in place as he grinded against her. It wasn't long before he turned his attention back to her, his eyes wild with lust, black dick dripping in Mina's pussy juices, he grabbed Kazuha and ripped her shorts off, carrying her into the shallow water to pin her against the same rock she'd pinned Mina against.

She felt his strong black dick penetrate deeply, screaming with her nails digging into his dark shoulders. He fucked her wildly, the water splashing around them with his big bull hips taking her, he grabbed handfuls of water and washed her mouth of the taste she'd acquired from eating his ass. She screamed deeply, he felt so good inside her, so strong and powerful as she laid back and let him take whatever he wanted from her body.

Mina was still recovering from the dicking she'd received, her legs felt weak as the woman guided her to a mossy patch of rock and laid her down, pinning her legs back as she removed her leather loincloth and squatted over Mina's hips with their clits touching. Mina moaned deeply at the slightest touch, her pussy was already a mess and she felt it growing wetter as she stared up at this impressively gorgeous woman.

Their hips began to rub together, clits touching the entire time as they moaned, Mina's legs were trapped by the womans, she had no hope of escape and didn't feel she wanted to as her hands wrapped around strong ebony thighs and her back arched in pleasure. Both girls were now being dominated, their wet and sweaty bodies claimed by blacks, what had started as a simple dayhike was becoming a long descent into pleasure as their eyes rolled back.

Kazuha gripped the bulls forearms rigidly, his hands grabbed her waist and held her firmly in place as her pussy was fed black cock until she couldn't take any more. "Aaah! You monster cock bull! I want your cum!" She moaned in Japanese, looking him in the eyes as he gripped her throat and choked her. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, she felt the airflow being blocked off and struggled to breathe, staring this man in the eyes as he dominated her holes. "Please," she moaned simply, his eyes told the story as they gazed back at her, a primal look in them as he let go and lifted her legs in his arms to carry her out of the water and lay her by Mina.

The couple seemed to be enjoying themselves, kissing one another above the girls who had their legs pinned back with strong native black bodies atop them. Mina could feel it, her clit was so ready to erupt again, the woman above her had a lustful look on her face as her hips continued to grind and hump at her, sweat dripping off her beautiful midnight skin onto Mina's pale body.

Loud wet slaps of hips crashing together echoed throughout the nearby jungle, broken only by loud moans and screams of pleasure that echoed much further. "Mina! He's so big!" Screamed Kazuha as both of them held hands, white knuckle-gripping each other. "I know," Mina said simply, her tongue now clenched between her teeth as her pussy began to erupt again, the woman moaned and both came at the same time, continuing to hump her wildly until it subsided and she leaned over Mina's beaten body to press their thick lips together.

The couple said something in native, then the bull began to pump Kazuha even harder, she couldn't hold back now, her fingers found her clit and she shot a powerful orgasm out onto his abdomen with a scream. He grinned and pulled his throbbing black cock from her, saying something assertively as he motioned them to get up. His wife was on her knees, her big black breasts pressed against each other as Kazuha and Mina took their place on either side, all three staring up at him as he took turns feeding each his cock for the next couple minutes.

With a final groan his black cock left Mina's lips and throat, falling from her mouth with a loud pop sound before she stroked him to completion. Huge ropes of black seed shot out, pearly white and thick as could be, endless his bull cock twitched as he grabbed it and shot ropes on every girl before him, covering their faces and chests in sticky seed.

The women all leaned forward as one, their lips licking his subsiding cock, cleaning every inch of his package together before turning to each other and licking his cum from their faces. Mina and Kazuha giggled as they spit the collected cum out onto the womans chest, licking all of it up and swallowing it like good blacked sluts. They dragged their tongues up her neck and cheeks, kissing her on the lips and looking each other over to ensure they hadn't missed a drop of precious seed.

The couple dressed and collected their water bucket, smiling with a wave as they disappeared slowly into the jungle from wherever they came and left the girls to themselves. They held each other tightly, sitting on the soft moss and listening to the waterfall for a while before they gathered their ruined clothes and walked back to the resort wearing nothing but their white bikinis.

Like every day it ended with them cuddling in bed watching a movie as they drifted to sleep, the setting sun with its brilliant reds, yellows and oranges bid them goodnight. This island was full of surprises no matter where they went or what they did, what would await them the next day?

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amiblockdlol · 2 hours ago

Text

The Flavors of Rivalry, ft. STAYC Isa

tags: creampie, (a hint of) breeding

length: 15k

author's note: That's the poll completed: three fics featuring three idols.

---

"Through here, sir."

Minjun nods, heading through the suggested door with urgency. His head is held high, his steps are quick, his gaze sharp. Moving through the sea of people and weaving through the bodies swiftly, his eyes sweep over faces, assessing—perhaps judging. His sharp gaze eventually lands on a woman in a tidy blazer, surrounded by others in matching attire. Minjun’s eyebrow rises, his lips curving into a demeaning smirk. "Azure." The name alone tastes like cheap, fleeting trends on his tongue, a company synonymous with a lack of tradition, of principles. The pin glinting on her blazer confirms it, and a knowing amusement flickers in his eyes. “Daddy's girl is here, huh?”

Minjun legs lock, his heels clacking loudly as he stops, and his escorting group stops behind him. Sensing the shifting tensions, the people from Azure cut their chatter, turning around slowly, as if physically bracing to face the big daddy of the industry. “Hi there,” he greets them dryly, his voice nearly completely devoid of respect. “Welcome to The Flavors Expo, ladies and gents.” They exchange glances, unsure of what to say to the man wearing a golden leaf pin. Eventually, a woman—the daddy’s girl, the heiress—emerges, facing Minjun with an unwavering resolve. “The Azure Taste Limited is humbled to be here,” she says, a calm, confident smile decorating her face, not a single tremor in her voice.

A ripple of hushed whispers spreads through the nearby booths. Seasoned industry veterans exchange knowing glances. This isn't just a polite introduction; it's the opening salvo in what promises to be a very public and very personal war. No one dares to intervene, mesmerized by the clash of two young, formidable wills. The air in the expo hall, already thick with the scent of competing flavors, suddenly crackles with raw, undiluted tension.

The woman extends an open hand, holding onto her coffee with the other. “My name is Lee Chaeyoung. May I ask what yours is?” Minjun’s expressions soften, not wanting to look too hostile right off the bat. “Park Minjun. Golden Leaf International,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand firmly, perhaps a fraction longer than strictly necessary. “Mister Park Minjun,” she echoes, the name instantly solidifying in her mind as both a benchmark and a formidable obstacle. “Would you like to have a sample, Mister Park?” He smiles, stifling a chuckle from leaving his lips, almost disgusted at the idea of having a taste of Azure’s flavor—but he must play nice, at least for now. “That would be amazing. What do you have?” he asks, carefully building a façade of friendliness.

Chaeyoung leads him towards a table lined with pre-filled pods, each one filled to the brim with her company’s flavors. “These are the fruity ones,” she traces a line over a row of bright-colored pods, “and those are our creamy ones. Please, have a taste.” Being a fan of dessert-like flavors, Minjun reaches for one labeled simply as caramel. He then takes a long puff, closing his eyes as the rich, buttery sweetness washes over his tongue, perfectly balanced and utterly familiar. For a fleeting moment, a sense of pure, unadulterated pleasure fills him, a recognition of true mastery—and his stomach twists with unease. It’s more than a passing feeling, though; it’s a jolt of alarm. Azure’s caramel tastes not just similar, but nearly identical to Golden Leaf’s top-selling Salted Silk.

Minjun's eyes snap open, the pleasant haze from the flavor vanishing. Pulling the pod away, his fingers tighten around it. A flicker of raw surprise, quickly masked, crosses his face. Chaeyoung, watching closely, catches the fleeting shadow that crosses his features before his practiced mask slides into place. He clears his throat as the last bit of cloud leaves his lips, offering Chaeyoung a tight, almost forced smile. "Remarkable," he states, the single word carefully neutral, but his mind is already a whirlwind of questions. How did they get so close? Is this a coincidence, a direct challenge, or worse, a leaked secret?

“This caramel blend of yours has quite the depth to it,” he continues, holding up the pod for a moment, “say, Miss Lee, what was your inspiration for this?” Chaeyoung looks away for a moment, hiding her satisfied grin behind the curtain of her hair. “I've always had a particular fondness for well-crafted caramel notes,” she confesses, her voice tinged with excitement. “And our team drew from a wide array of top-tier references when developing this blend.”

Minjun keeps his eyes on her. “References, huh? Like Salted Silk?” he wonders to himself, the words burning like an accusation in his mind, accusing her of copying the result of his team’s hard work. Cutting short the interaction, he takes a deliberate step back, putting distance between himself and the booth, even as he offers her a pair of curt, almost dismissive nods. “I think your R&D team deserves a pat on the back, Miss Lee.” Chaeyoung's hand comes up as she chuckles, covering her mouth in a gesture that is both demure and subtly triumphant, fitting for an heiress of an evolving empire. Even if he perceives it as built on shaky grounds—a new brand standing on no tradition, trying to make a name for themselves—Azure can still pose a threat, and emperors like the Golden Leaf don’t like threats.

Minjun turns abruptly, signaling his escort with a sharp gesture. "We have a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce in five minutes," he states, his voice low and clipped, devoid of the earlier feigned pleasantries. Walking away, his gaze flicks back to Chaeyoung and the Azure booth one last time, the image of that perfectly replicated caramel flavor burning behind his eyes. This isn't just competition; it's an insult to the throne.

The initial jolt of alarm from The Flavors Expo morphs into a cold, hard resolve for Minjun. He dedicates the next few weeks to dissecting Azure's market entry, commissioning detailed reports on their supply chain, their patent filings, and even their recruitment strategies. The sheer audacity of their caramel clone still chafes. Golden Leaf's legal team is put on high alert, meticulously reviewing every flavor profile, every branding choice for potential infringement or reverse-engineering tactics. Minjun isn't interested in a public skirmish; he's mapping out a strategic blockade, finding every possible leverage point to corner Azure before they can truly establish a foothold.

“Mr. Park, sir,” a manager calls to him, his gaze darting around the room, his fingers fiddling with his pen as he speaks. “May I suggest hiring some private investigators to look into this?” Minjun exhales, leaning back in his sleek, leather-wrapped chair, the vapor cloud of Salted Silk hovering over his head, a cold reminder of Azure’s brazen challenge. "Keep talking, Mr. Shin," Minjun says, his voice a low rumble. “Sir, we have a reason to believe there might have been a breach,” Mr. Shin replies, his voice gaining a nervous confidence. “There is no way anyone could make something this similar to our stuff without someone leaking the development recipe.”

Minjun’s sharp gaze stays locked on the manager, taking another puff of Salted Silk as he considers the idea. “Does anyone else have another idea, because I don’t see any other way?” he asks the other managers who remain glued to their seats, their faces carefully blank, unwilling to risk suggesting a flawed alternative and igniting the wrath of the big boss. A heavy silence fills the room, broken only by the hum of the air conditioning. "No?" Minjun's voice drops, a dangerous edge to it. "Well, ain't that disappointing." He points his vape pod at Mr. Shin. “Can you assure me that your investigators can be discreet?” Mr. Shin nods slowly, understanding the weight behind his question. “Certainly, sir. They operate outside the usual corporate channels, thus minimizing direct risk to Golden Leaf's reputation.”

Minjun abruptly rises from his seat, slamming the pod onto the table. “This,” he points at it, “is a fucking insult to us.” His fiery gaze scans the faces of the managers before him, each person not daring to look back at him. “I expect everyone to do their part in finding the root of this. You're dismissed—and please excuse my language.”

One person after the other leaves, and as Mr. Shin prepares to join his fellow managers, Minjun grabs his wrist, his fingers wrapped firmly around the sleeve of his suit. “Get me Lee Chaeyoung’s number, Mr. Shin,” he demands. The man simply nods, knowing better than to ask twice, already thinking of ways to get what the boss wants. “By the way,” he continues, “make sure security always checks everyone when they enter and leave the building. Refusing to comply will result in immediate dismissal.”

Settling back in his seat, Minjun pulls out another pod from his pocket: Tiramisu Twist. He grips the pod hard, imagining what it would be like if someone were to clone this flavor. The one he created with his own hands, back when he was serving as the Head of R&D under his father. The one he spent countless hours perfecting until it was deemed good enough for the big boss. The one he keeps coming back to whenever he yearns for comfort.

“Clone this, and I’ll burn Azure myself, Lee Chaeyoung,” he murmurs, staring right into the empty seat across from him, imagining Chaeyoung sitting in it—just the image of her grin makes him hot. He takes a slow, deep puff of the Tiramisu Twist, basking in the gentle sweetness covering his tongue, the slight hint of bitterness the perfect closing note of the flavor. “No one gets to insult the Golden Leaf, and definitely not a company without tradition like yours.”

The scorching heat of summer has now been replaced by the calm, more soothing breeze of autumn. The heat in Minjun’s heart is still as fiery as before, though. If anything, it's burning even hotter; the confidential report, detailing how one of his R&D personnel stole Salted Silk's base formula and sent it to competitors, lies scrambled on his desk. It ignites the beast sleeping in his chest.

The report's findings replay in his head: "Former R&D Lead, Kim Dongho, terminated due to insubordination, accepted a position with Azure two weeks prior to their 'Caramel' launch." The name burns. Minjun doesn’t say a word, his gaze drifting out of the window of his office. This is him; mild irritation will make him run his mouth, but one that is deeper, heavier will stifle it. The silence stretches long, only broken by the sound of his pod’s puffs. He was hoping that the chilling sensation of menthol from this Watermelon Whirl could help his mind relax, but it doesn’t feel like it at the moment.

A fleeting image flashes through Minjun's mind: Kim Dongho, years ago, a bright-eyed, eager R&D intern, nervously presenting a flavor concept. Minjun had mentored him, seen his potential, trusted him. The betrayal cuts deeper than any corporate espionage; it's a personal wound. “What happened, Dongho-yah? Is this about that second-grade mango I told you to make, the one you had come up with—we didn’t have the materials for that, though,” he mumbles, wondering what could have made Dongho to stab him in the back.

He shakes his head, dispelling the ghost of the past. The lingering phantom taste of second-grade mango fades, replaced by the bitter tang of betrayal. "It doesn't matter," Minjun mutters, his voice devoid of emotion. What matters is the present. What matters is the enemy now holding a piece of him. He pulls out his phone, the screen already illuminated with Lee Chaeyoung’s contact, courtesy of Mr. Shin.

Minjun presses the call button, closing his eyes as he waits for her to pick up, taking another long puff for good luck. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. “That’s brave,” he thinks quickly; CEOs don’t usually pick up calls from unknown numbers. “Good morning, Miss Lee,” he greets her, his voice flat and controlled. “Good morning. Is this Mr. Park Minjun from Golden Leaf?” she asks, her voice calm, almost too calm, without a hint of surprise.

Minjun’s eyebrows furrow, but his voice remains flat, staying solid. "Indeed it is, Miss Lee," he replies, his gaze fixed on the cityscape outside his window. "I'm calling about that caramel flavor you were showcasing at The Flavors Expo." He pauses, stringing together a sentence to continue. “I won’t waste your time, Miss Lee, so let me ask you this: did you or did you not receive the development recipe for Salted Silk from a certain Kim Dongho?”

A beat of silence, heavy with unspoken tension, stretches across the line, each side trying to be one step ahead of the other. “Mr. Park,” she replies, her calm voice suddenly carrying a sharp edge. “I’m not sure what gives you the idea that Dongho-oppa gave Azure any development recipe.” Minjun’s eyes blink rapidly, and soon, his lips stretch into a smirk—he’s caught her lacking.

“Dongho-oppa, hey? Is that what you call him over there?” he taunts, keeping his voice controlled despite the urge to burst out laughing. "A cute nickname for a corporate spy, wouldn't you say, Miss Lee?" He pauses, letting the silence twist. "Here's what's going to happen. You can either cooperate with our investigation into your... acquisition of our intellectual property, or Golden Leaf International will make sure the name of Azure Taste Limited becomes synonymous with corporate theft. Your choice, Miss Lee. Oh, and I don’t give a piss about Kim Dongho,” he adds, his fingers gripping his phone hard, a testament to the fire in his heart.

The line hums with the weight of Minjun's ultimatum. For a long moment, Chaeyoung says nothing, her breath catching. Then, her voice, though strained, comes back with surprising force. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Park," she states, the sharp edge now a hardened blade. "Azure Taste Limited operates with the highest ethical standards. We have nothing to cooperate with, and we will defend our reputation vigorously against any baseless accusations. Good day." The click of her phone hanging up slices through the silence.

His grip on the phone tightens until his knuckles whiten, but he quickly relents; she’s hung up anyway. "Fool," he mutters, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He expects a fight, but not a surrender. “Oh, Lee Chaeyoung, surely you’re not this stupid.” Minjun shakes his head, amusement growing in the midst of frustration. “Time to get some lawyers, I guess.” He doesn't waste another second. His thumb flies across his phone screen, dialing his head of legal. "Get a cease-and-desist order drafted for Azure Taste Limited, immediately," he barks, his voice now devoid of any pretense. "And prepare for a full intellectual property lawsuit. I want every single breach documented, every piece of evidence ready. We’re going to war, Mr. Oh."

Within hours, Golden Leaf International's legal department becomes a whirlwind of activity. Mr. Oh, a veteran of countless corporate skirmishes, mobilizes his team, their faces grim but determined. Cease-and-desist letters are drafted, injunctions prepared, and evidence files on Kim Dongho's employment, his proven breach of contract, and subsequent actions meticulously compiled. Minjun leans back in his chair, still looking out the window, taking puffs of Watermelon Whirl while his legal machine churns. This isn't about winning money; it's about making a statement, about crippling Azure and sending a message to anyone else who dares to challenge his empire.

Soon, the legal whispers quickly become industry-wide murmurs. News of Golden Leaf International's aggressive legal maneuvers against Azure Taste Ltd. spreads like wildfire through trade publications and discreet industry forums. Other CEOs, old heads and new bloomers alike, lean back in their chairs, a mix of apprehension and schadenfreude on their faces. The big daddy is making an example out of Azure, and everyone knows it. The question isn't if it will fall, but how hard.

Days later, a thick, official-looking envelope arrives at Azure Taste headquarters, delivered by a grim-faced courier. Chaeyoung reads the cease-and-desist order, her fingers tightening around the heavy paper. The accusations are damning: intellectual property theft, corporate espionage, and a specific mention of Kim Dongho. Her calm facade, usually so impenetrable, wavers. This isn't just a threat; it's a declaration of open war, designed to crush Azure before it can truly bloom.

Later that day, in a tense, closed-door meeting at Azure Taste headquarters, Chaeyoung sits across from Kim Dongho, the cease-and-desist letter spread between them like a battle map. Dongho avoids her gaze, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. Chaeyoung's voice is low, strained with barely controlled anger. "Dongho-oppa," she begins, the informal address cutting through the heavy air. "The Golden Leaf just accused you of stealing his company's formula and giving it to us. What exactly is going on?”

Dongho sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead, as if trying to wipe the stress away. “I had a feeling this day would come,” he mutters, his voice carrying defeat. “Okay, I’ll confess: I did steal GLI’s intellectual property.” The room falls into a deafening silence, executives trading glances with each other, stunned by such a grave revelation. Leaning back in her chair, Chaeyoung's breath catches in her throat, her initial anger replaced with disbelief. “But this flavor—this blend of caramel—is mine,” he continues, his voice rising in a desperate attempt for understanding. “I made this with my own hands, back when I was with Golden Leaf.”

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, stopping the tears from falling out. She takes a few seconds of silence, her heart aching—perhaps even bleeding—at Dongho’s actions. “If… if it's yours, then how did you ‘steal’ it, oppa?” she asks, her voice shaking slightly. Dongho opens his mouth, a protest or an explanation forming in his mind, but her fist slamming on the table interrupts him. “Do you know how bad this is, Kim Dongho, to get in a fight with Golden Leaf?” Chaeyoung presses on, her glassy eyes a proof of her hurt. “And the worst part is, we're not even trading blows,” she ends, the weight of the IP theft crushing down on her.

The head of legal, who has been watching the exchange with growing alarm, clears his throat, shifting the attention to him. “Miss Lee,” he begins, carefully stringing words together in his head. “I understand your frustrations, but we need facts.” He glances to his left, at Dongho; he doesn't look like he's in the right mind, but legal is about facts over feelings. “Mr. Kim, can you please elaborate on why you decided to… take GLI’s IP here?” he asks, his tone controlled.

Dongho takes a shaky breath, his hand running through his disheveled hair. Not daring to look at his CEO, he turns his gaze to the head of legal. “Okay, you want facts, right, so here they are,” he starts, formulating a defense. “I was the one initially tasked with coming up with the recipe for this caramel flavor. I've done many revisions on the recipe under the directions of Park Minjun and his father. Eventually, we arrived at a roadblock: one of the key materials was a substance that's restricted in this country, but the Parks insisted that we had to use that material, saying that I was a coward for not trying to slither through the holes in regulations.”

The room falls silent once more; this is quite a revelation from Dongho. The idea that Golden Leaf is possibly using restricted chemicals to make their caramel can shake the grounds upon which the giant is standing. Should the giant fall, a race to take the top spot is guaranteed to happen.

“A restricted substance, Mr. Kim?” the head of legal presses, his ears imperceptibly perking up like an excited puppy. “That's… quite the bold accusation you're making.” Dongho sighs deeply, slightly regretful of having to resort to such a level of whistleblowing. “I think… I think they have managed to lobby legislators to lift the restriction, though,” he continues, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. Borrowing a pen from the head of sales next to him, Dongho writes the name of the substance—something that sounds like a magic spell to outsiders—on a piece of paper. “Here's the name. You might want to confirm it yourself.”

Chaeyoung takes a slow, deep breath, steadying herself. The room feels charged, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. She looks at her legal head, then to Dongho, a cold, fierce glint in her eyes. "Verify everything, Mr. Jeon," she commands, her voice unwavering. "I want us to hit back, and we can’t do that without a solid ground to back our claims." The head of legal nods firmly, tucking Dongho’s small note in his pocket. “We will get back to you soon, Miss Lee. We will definitely hit back,” he offers an assurance to the CEO.

They leave one by one, heading out her office in a line, and here Chaeyoung is, sitting alone in her office. She leaves the conference desk and sits on her desk, grabbing a pod of Red Apple—this flavor is an original, by the way; she commissioned it to her RND team last year. She takes a long puff, letting the apple’s sweetness and the subtle cool from the menthol fill her mouth. “Still not perfect, but this will do,” she mutters to herself, taking a small, personal victory amidst the chaos.

A ding from her computer, signaling an incoming email, steals her attention. Her eyebrows furrow as she skims through the content; an invite to visit Golden Leaf International, a stark contradiction to the legal threats she had just received. Attached to the body is a handwritten letter, signed by Park Minjun himself. “Wait, what? What the hell is this?” she whispers, the unexpected invitation throwing a fresh curveball into her escalating war with Minjun.

Chaeyoung's hand hovers over the attachment icon. Despite the logical urge to consult Mr. Jeon, her professional curiosity, combined with a potent dose of defiance, wins out. With a swift click, the handwritten letter unfolds on her screen. Minjun's elegant, precise script fills the page, a stark contrast to his recent verbal barrage. The message is brief, yet potent, a single line requesting her presence at his corporate headquarters for a 'private discussion,’ leaving her with more questions than answers “Alright, I’ll bite,” she grabs her phone, calling her driver, “please prepare the car. We’re going to Golden Leaf for… a friendly visit.”

The sleek Continental glides through the city's bustling streets, but inside, Chaeyoung's mind races. She takes another puff of Red Apple, the flavor doing little to soothe her nerves. This is Minjun's territory, his fortress where his throne sits. Is this a trap? A calculated intimidation tactic, or does he genuinely believe he has something that will make her surrender? She presses her lips into a thin line, straightening her jacket. Whatever it is, she won't show weakness; Azure’s future lies in her hands, and if she’s truly to take them to the top, there is no room for hesitation.

Her car pulls silently into Golden Leaf International's sprawling underground parking, a sterile, brightly lit cavern that feels like the belly of the beast. Chaeyoung steps out, her heels clicking crisply on the concrete. The elevator ride to the executive floors is swift and silent, amplifying the sense of anticipation. When the doors finally part, a stern-faced security guard—a woman, Chaeyoung notes—stands waiting, a tablet in hand. "Miss Lee Chaeyoung?" she asks, her voice flat, clearly expecting her. This isn't a welcome; it's processing. “Can you please empty your pockets on the table?”

Chaeyoung moves to the side, her lips tightening as she fishes things out of her pockets and leaving them scattered on the table. “Your phone, please,” the guard adds, opening her palm to receive it. With a sigh, she pulls her phone out of her rear pocket, handing it over to be kept in a small safe. “Do you want my bra too, perhaps?” she teases the guard, her irritation lying beneath the sarcasm in her voice. The guard's expression doesn't flicker, her eyes staying cold and unreadable. Without breaking eye contact, her hand moves, with practiced efficiency, to her radio. “Miss Lee Chaeyoung is clear. I repeat, Miss Lee Chaeyoung is clear.”

The butterfly doors in front of her part, revealing another security guard—a man, this time. He signals Chaeyoung to come closer, not bothering to say anything. “Quite insulting. I’m a damn CEO,” she says to herself, her jaw clenching at the treatment she’s getting. It’s like everyone is trying to tell her she doesn’t matter, but her ego doesn’t squish that easily.

The guard leads her through a corridor lined with closed doors, each bearing a simple, gold plaque: Legal Affairs, Global Marketing, and— “What the hell is ‘Treasury Management?’ Is that not just ‘Finance and Accounting?’” she wonders quietly. Beyond another set of glass doors, Chaeyoung catches a glimpse of a sprawling office space, buzzing with a small army of employees. Having this many people on the executive wing is a testament to the sheer scale of Golden Leaf's operation. It's a stark reminder of the colossus she's challenging, a company whose resources dwarf her own.

The guard leads her past rows of impressive offices until they stop before a large, obsidian door, subtly set apart from the others. No nameplate adorns it, but the aura of power radiating from behind it is palpable. The guard simply nods towards the door, his duty fulfilled. Chaeyoung takes a final breath, the faint, lingering taste of Red Apple a quiet rebellion against the overwhelming presence of Golden Leaf.

Chaeyoung steps closer to the door, but before she could knock, it opens by itself, as if eager to welcome her. Inside, Park Minjun is seen standing by the big glass wall, its tinted surface softening the scorching afternoon sunlight. Stepping inside, the guard closes the door behind her, the subtle sound of the lock latching confirming the lack of an escape route.

Minjun turns slowly from the window, his expression unreadable, a single Salted Silk pod held loosely in his hand. His gaze sweeps over Chaeyoung, an almost clinical assessment in his eyes. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken power. "Miss Lee," he finally says, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seems to fill the vast office. "Thank you for accepting my invitation." He gestures to a minimalist chair placed pointedly opposite his sprawling desk, a subtle challenge in the invitation. “Please, have a seat. I assure you, you’re safe within these walls.”

Chaeyoung meets his gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between them. She steps forward, her heels clicking softly on the plush carpet, and deliberately takes the minimalist chair. It's surprisingly comfortable, its appearance hiding a clever practicality. A subtle smirk touches her lips. "Safe, perhaps, or simply… contained" she acknowledges, her voice calm. "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Park. I'm sure you didn't bring me all the way to your... 'fortress' just for pleasantries.”

Minjun’s expression softens as his lips curve into a smile, perhaps hiding his hostility behind a momentary façade. “Miss Lee,” he pulls a chair for himself, settling into it, “believe me, I didn’t invite you here to bash you. I meant it when I said I wanted to see you in private.” Placing his Salted Silk pod on the table, he gently pushes it closer to her. “Please, allow yourself to relax. I’m not trying to put you in danger.”

Chaeyoung's gaze flickers to the Salted Silk pod, then back to Minjun's surprisingly soft expression. She raises an eyebrow, a subtle challenge in her eyes. "Relaxing seems an ambitious goal, given the circumstances," she notes, her voice dry. She leans forward, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, but makes no move towards the pod. "However, I'm intrigued. What exactly is it you wish to discuss, Mr. Park, that couldn't be covered by a lawsuit?"

Minjun smiles once more, falling silent for a few seconds as he eyes the pod lying idly on the table. “I’m dropping the lawsuits, Miss Lee,” he mutters softly, his tone dropping to a gentle timbre. “In fact, I’ll also sell you the patent for Salted Silk—cheaply, might I add.” Chaeyoung’s jaw drops, disbelieving what she has just heard, surprise drawn all over her features. “Pardon me, Mr. Park, but what did you just say?”

Minjun’s smile stays solid, his expression softening further, almost appearing benevolent. "I said, Miss Lee," he repeats, a subtle emphasis on his words. "I am dropping the lawsuits and offering you the patent for Salted Silk." He gestures vaguely with the hand holding his pod. "Let's just say... Golden Leaf is about to embark on a new grand venture, one that requires our full attention. We prefer to clear the deck, streamline our focus, and honestly, Azure has given us enough sleepless nights.” His gaze drifts toward the pod before chuckling. “I promise I’m not trying to flirt with you, but thinking about you makes me lose sleep, Miss Lee.”

Chaeyoung's eyebrows raise slightly, her initial shock now laced with deep suspicion. His words hang in the air, a strange mix of business acumen and a thinly veiled, almost unsettling, personal remark. She ignores the flirtation—quite the poor attempt by her standards—her mind rapidly sifting through the implications. Golden Leaf never acts without incentive, let alone sell one of their best-selling IPs. There's a hidden cost here, a trap far more intricate than she can yet discern. “Mr. Park, can you please jump to Azure’s role in all this?” she presses, starting to lose her patience over the circling conversation.

Minjun's chuckle deepens, his eyes still holding that unreadable quality. "Let's just say, Miss Lee," he replies, leaning forward slightly, his tone becoming more serious. “I want Azure to stay in its own lane while Golden Leaf paves the way for the future. Let us pursue this in peace, and in return, enjoy the money that our Salted Silk brings in.” Chaeyoung stays quiet, the room now filled with a tense silence, but eventually, she breaks the brief silence. “Any other terms to your offer, Mr. Park?” she asks, familiar with how Minjun operates. “Oh, of course there is,” he answers quickly. “Develop your own flavors from now on. If we catch you stealing again, we’ll make sure Azure turns to dust.”

Chaeyoung's gaze drifts from Minjun's unreadable eyes to the Salted Silk pod, then back to the expansive view of the city. The offer is tempting: an end to the lawsuit and a profitable IP, but the terms he’s giving are shackles. She thinks about Dongho’s revelation about the restricted material used to make Salted Silk, and a grim smile takes root on her face; Park Minjun is trying to buy her silence, her complicity.

“That thing,” she points at the pod, “that thing contains a banned substance, does it not?” Minjun chuckles, looking almost amused by her question. “Did Kim Dongho tell you that?” He shakes his head, rubbing his forehead as he prepares to reveal his side of the story. “Miss Lee—oh, God, how do I say this,” he looks around the room, stringing words together in the air, “look, if you’re accusing us of breaking the law, then allow me to show you some proofs that we imported the material legitimately.”

Rising from his chair, Minjun grabs a folder from a safe buried in the wall. After making sure he has the right one, he hands it over to her, letting her assess things herself. The first few papers talk about how Golden Leaf got blocked multiple times even when they were trying to import samples. Some others talk about how Golden Leaf paid a fortune in fines for putting too much of the material in the finished product. Finally, the rest talk about an order from the government saying that Golden Leaf are only allowed to import a certain amount lest they are sanctioned.

Chaeyoung sighs but quickly masks it with a tight smile, placing the folder back on the table. “We’re no outlaw, Miss Lee,” Minjun says, his voice now confident. “No matter how hard it is to follow them, Golden Leaf operates within the boundaries of law. Sure, we try to bend it sometimes. After all, those politicians are only good for that.” She offers a small chuckle; her father once tried to lobby those crooks to lower the legal smoking age from 21 to 17. “I don’t disagree with you on that part, Mr. Park.”

Chaeyoung's smile fades, replaced by a colder expression. “Now, about your… suggestion,” she continues. “You want us to stay in our lane in exchange for Salted Silk, but what guarantee do I have that your new venture won’t hurt us?” Minjun taps his chin, his gaze drifting to the ceiling, as if really thinking about the answer to her question. “That’s a good question,” he murmurs. “I mean, so long as you won’t try stealing our IP again, we will also stay in our lane. Isn't that how things were, before all this?”

Chaeyoung's jaw tightens. He conveniently forgets the accusations against Dongho, the initial legal threats, and now, the restricted substance. It’s like he’s trying to paint Azure as the sole aggressor. "So long as we don't steal, you won't hurt us," she echoes, a dry sarcasm in her tone. "That's hardly a guarantee, Mr. Park, especially when your definition of 'your lane' seems to shift with the wind. What concrete assurances can you offer that this 'new grand venture' won't simply be a different method of encroaching on our market, or that your 'peace' isn't just a prelude to a stronger attack?"

Minjun puts his palm on his forehead, dragging it down on his face, his patience running dangerously thin. “Okay, fine. We’ll register Azure as a key account, and as a key account, not only can you have Salted Silk, but you can also buy materials from us. As you’ve seen for yourself, we can get even the most restricted materials to our front door.” Minjun chuckles; he can’t believe he just said these words, but he will get Azure to stand on the side, away from the path Golden Leaf is chasing. Also, for a company like Azure, access to such resources could revolutionize their production. “I know that sounds silly, but I can’t think of any other way—well, aside from buying Azure, that is.”

Chaeyoung blinks, taking a moment for the full weight of his words to settle. "A key account," she repeats slowly, testing the phrase on her tongue. "And this would entail... what, exactly, Mr. Park? Preferential pricing? Guaranteed supply? And what are the specific expectations for a 'key account' when it comes to competition, or, as you put it, 'staying in our lane'?" She keeps her voice steady, attempting to mask the seismic shift his offer has just created.

Minjun leans forward again, his features beaming slightly; Chaeyoung is cracking. She forces her face to remain neutral, even as a jolt of alarm, then interest, shoots through her. “Preferential pricing, yes. Guaranteed supply, yes. Hell, you can even have my heart if you desire. However, most importantly,” he continues, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “You’ll be the first to join us should this venture succeed. After all, Golden Leaf always takes care of its friends.”

Chaeyoung watches him, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "Your generosity is... noted, Mr. Park," she replies, her voice carefully neutral. The implications of his offer—access to restricted materials, guaranteed supply, a share in a successful future—are staggering, but the word "friends" echoes oddly in the opulent silence of his office. She doesn't miss the subtle power play, the implied allegiance. “Please humor me with one last question: what is it you’re seeking from this… friendship, as you call it?”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across Minjun's face. "Transparency and trust, Miss Lee," he states, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper. “The kind that’s forged between parties who fully understand the nature of this industry. If you commit to pursuing your path honorably, without resorting to... unoriginal methods, then Golden Leaf ensures your prosperity. You will be encouraged to build your own empire, protected from threats of any kind, but poke the lion again…” he trails off, letting Chaeyoung complete his sentence.

Chaeyoung holds his gaze, the weight of his words settling heavily in the opulent office. The "lion" metaphor is clear. She thinks of Azure's lean resources, the relentless grind to survive. This offer, for all its veiled threats, promises a path to power, a shortcut she hadn't dared dream of. "I understand the terms, Mr. Park," she finally says, her voice low. "Transparency, integrity... and no 'poking the lion.' A rather unique definition of friendship, I must admit, but I believe Azure Taste Limited can thrive, even within such... clear boundaries."

“Wonderful!” Minjun claps his hands, jumping out of his seat to grab a bottle of champagne from the shelves behind his desk. “Miss Lee, would you please kindly join me for a glass or two?” Chaeyoung chuckles, rising from her chair to join him by his desk—oh, whose photo is that next to his monitor? She quickly diverts her gaze, pretending to have missed the picture.

As Minjun pops the champagne, the photo by his monitor burns an image into Chaeyoung's mind. It was only a glimpse, but enough to register a soft, almost vulnerable quality that clashed sharply with the ruthless businessman before her. A sister? A lover? The detail sits uncomfortably, a tiny crack in the seemingly impenetrable facade of Park Minjun, making her wonder if there's more to his "grand venture" than just market dominance.

Minjun pours two flutes of bubbling golden liquid, handing one to Chaeyoung, his smile confident. "To new understandings, Miss Lee," he says, raising his glass. Chaeyoung takes the flute, the cold glass a stark contrast to the warmth of her hand. Her gaze meets his, but her mind is still on that photograph, searching for clues. "To new ventures, Mr. Park," she replies, her voice smooth, masking the sudden shift in her perception of him. The champagne tastes of triumph and a lingering, unsettling question.

Chaeyoung empties her glass, the last bubbles dissipating on her tongue, leaving behind that unsettling aftertaste, but her mind keeps coming back to the portrait. “Mr. Park, may I ask who that woman is?” she asks, her tone careful, almost too quiet for him to hear. Minjun turns his head, smiling rather softly as he looks at the framed photo—a beautiful woman with a vibrant, gentle smile—she can sense a deep, lingering pain beneath it, though. “This is Park Sieun, Miss Lee. She was my fiancé,” Minjun hands the photo over to her, letting her have a good look, “she passed away two weeks before the day of our wedding. A drunk trucker took her life, Miss Lee.”

Chaeyoung takes the framed photo, her fingers brushing the cool glass. The vibrant smile of Park Sieun stares back at her, radiating a warmth that now feels heartbreakingly poignant. The ruthless CEO before her suddenly transforms into a grieving man, and the weight of his personal tragedy settles heavy in the opulent office. All of Minjun's ambition, his drive to pave the way for the future, suddenly takes on a new, more profound meaning. She hands the photo back, her voice softer than before. "I... I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Park."

Minjun takes the photo back, his fingers tracing the edge of the frame. "She believed in a future, Miss Lee," he says, his voice distant, lost in memory—a stark, raw departure from the controlled executive.. "A world where… everyone is happy.” He blinks his tears back, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “It sounds cliché, I know, but… but I want to believe in that future too, so please help me, Miss Lee.”

Chaeyoung watches him, the sudden shift from ruthless CEO to grieving man pulling at something deep within her. His raw honesty, even if clichéd, gives a chilling new context to his drive. His empire-building isn't just about money; it's about a desperate need for control, for a legacy for the woman he lost. She nods slowly. "I see," she says, her voice measured. "So, this 'new venture' isn't just about market dominance; it's about... fulfilling a promise." She pauses, her gaze hardening slightly as the businesswoman reasserts herself. "If your vision for this 'happy world' is truly innovative and adheres to ethical boundaries, then yes, Mr. Park. Azure Taste Limited can play its part."

Minjun places his flute on his desk, slowly opening his arms, his eyes searching hers with raw vulnerability, hesitation drawn all over his face. “Please?” he whispers, begging her to come closer. With a soft step, Chaeyoung closes the gap between them, her arms wrapping snugly around him; he’s quite warm, too. “I hope my Sieun is proud of me,” he murmurs, his voice shaking quite violently. “She is, Mr. Park, and she loves you too,” she replies, whispering right into his ear.

Minjun's body trembles against Chaeyoung's for a long moment, a lifetime of grief contained in the brief, fragile warmth of their embrace. Slowly, he pulls back, his eyes still red-rimmed but holding a new, softer light as he looks at her. The corporate masks are gone, replaced by the weight of shared humanity. The terms of their "deal" now feel different, imbued with the silent understanding of his personal pain and her unexpected compassion.

Minjun clears his throat, a soft, almost shy sound, and glances down at his hands, then back to Chaeyoung. "Thank you, Miss Lee," he murmurs, his voice still a little hoarse. "That... it means a great deal, especially coming from you." He manages a small, genuine smile, utterly devoid of the calculated charm from moments before. The tension hasn't vanished, but it has transformed, replaced by a delicate understanding that hangs between them. Chaeyoung holds his hand firmly, her fingers itching to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Please, it’s just Chaeyoung-ie…” she mutters, her voice getting tender. Minjun's eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the familiar, almost intimate, suffix, a new warmth spreading through them. “Thank you for being honest. I appreciate honest men, even if they’re scary like you.”

Minjun takes a shaky breath, the unfamiliar warmth of the informal nickname settling deep within him. He squeezes her hand gently before releasing it. The silence stretches, no longer tense with animosity, but with a complex mix of vulnerability and burgeoning respect. "Chaeyoung-ie," he repeats softly, testing the name on his tongue. "Perhaps... perhaps we can make this 'new venture' something we both can be proud of, a legacy that transcends simple profit."

Chaeyoung watches him, the lingering sting of his grief in her own eyes. The image of the powerful, ruthless CEO has shattered, replaced by a man driven by profound loss, its weight unimaginable for her. Her initial strategy of countering his every move now feels inadequate, perhaps even cruel. This isn't just about business; it's about a shared understanding, a fragile thread woven between them. The Salted Silk patent, the access to materials, the "lanes"—all of it now holds a different meaning.

Minjun offers her another small, almost hopeful smile, a stark contrast to the calculating grin he wore just moments before. The silence that follows is comfortable, filled with the unspoken weight of their shared understanding. The opulent office, once a battleground, now feels like a space where something entirely new has begun to take root. They stand there for a long moment, two former adversaries, now connected by grief, ambition, and the faint, unsettling taste of a future yet unwritten.

Chaeyoung holds his gaze. Not in a tense, hostile way, but rather a relaxed, cordial one. “I don’t mean no disrespect to Miss Park Sieun, but if you keep acting this kind and gentle, I might actually fall for you, Mr. Park.” Minjun chuckles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “Has anyone ever told you how funny you are, Chaeyoung-ah?” he quips, a genuine grin spreading across his face, delighted by her admission.

Chaeyoung grins back, the earlier tension completely dissolved. "Only when they're truly caught off guard," she replies, a playful glint in her eyes. "But it seems I've found my audience." The air in his office now feels strangely intimate, filled with the unexpected warmth of shared laughter. They stand there, the head of a titan and an aspiring empress, connected not by legal battles or corporate maneuvering, but by a sudden, profound understanding that transcends business.

Minjun shakes his head, still smiling. "Well, consider me thoroughly off guard," he says, a softness in his voice that was unimaginable an hour ago. He gestures back towards the door, acknowledging the need for Chaeyoung to continue her day as a CEO. “You’re free to leave, Chaeyoung-ah,” he says. Looking over her shoulder at the door, Chaeyoung’s forehead furrows; she thinks the door is still locked. “I thought you had me locked in here?” Minjun explodes in laughter, doubling over slightly, shaking his head out of pure mirth. “Oh, no, no. The lock is for keeping those outside, outside. Just turn the handle and you’ll be on your way.”

Chaeyoung can't help but crack a genuine smile herself, the lingering tension from earlier conversations finally dissipating completely. The sheer absurdity of her assumption, paired with Minjun's uninhibited laughter, creates a strange camaraderie. "Well, that's certainly one way to control the flow," she quips, a genuine lightness in her tone. Making her way to the doors, she turns the handle as he suggested, and they part for her. “Oh, you’re not lying.”

Minjun watches the doors close behind Chaeyoung, his laughter fading into a soft smile. He walks back to his desk, picking up the framed photo of Sieun. "She's an interesting one, isn't she, love?" he murmurs to the smiling face, his voice devoid of tears now, replaced by a calculating satisfaction. “But still; she’s not you.” He sets the photo down, his gaze falling on the Salted Silk pod lying forgotten on the table. The first step of his grand venture is complete; Azure is now precisely where he needs them to be.

A quarter later, the tension that once filled Minjun’s vast office has truly faded, replaced by a comfortable quiet. Chaeyoung sits across from his sprawling desk, not in the minimalist chair of their first encounter, but on a plush sofa, a half-empty mug of her favorite herbal tea steaming beside her. The Salted Silk patent now sits securely in Azure's vault. The "key account" status has indeed revolutionized their access to premium materials, and the legal battles are a distant memory.

Typically a whirlwind of activity, Minjun now leans back in his executive chair, a genuine, unburdened smile on his face as he listens to Chaeyoung recount a humorous struggle with a particularly stubborn supplier. The framed photo of Sieun still sits on his desk, but his gaze no longer carries the raw, aching pain. Instead, when he looks at it, there’s a quiet tenderness, a sense of peace that wasn't there before.

"So, you finally managed to get them to budge?" he asks, his voice warm, a stark contrast to the intimidating rumble she first knew. "You’re good at being stubborn, Chaeyoung-ah—and I mean that as a compliment." Chaeyoung laughs, a genuine, unrestrained sound that echoes softly in the room. "I learned from the best, oppa," she quips, her eyes twinkling. "Though I think my methods are slightly less... aggressive than yours."

Chaeyoung feels a warmth spread through her, and it’s not about the tea. "Good at being stubborn," she repeats softly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I suppose that's true. Sometimes, you just know a fight is worth it, even if it seems impossible." Her gaze drifts, lingering on his hand resting casually on his desk, then flickers back to his eyes. “Okay, just so you know, I’m not going to fight Golden Leaf again,” she adds. Minjun bursts out laughing, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, let’s not do that again,” he agrees.

As the laughter dies down, the comfortable quiet deepens, filled with an unspoken awareness, a delicate thread forming between them that feels both fragile and profoundly real. "What about you, oppa?" she asks, her voice softer now. "What impossible fights are you still determined to win?" Minjun sighs, promptly reminded about a material that is quite difficult to get his hands on. “I mean, it’s not impossible necessarily, but importing Raspberry Ketone has been… quite challenging. If only we didn’t need it so bad.”

Chaeyoung's brow furrows in thought. Raspberry Ketone. A whisper of a substance, found only in trace amounts naturally. "Raspberry Ketone, huh?" she mouths, leaning slightly forward. “Let me guess; raspberry isn’t in season right now.” Minjun pouts as he nods, exaggerating his reactions a bit. “I guess we can go back to selling Salted Silk—oh, wait…” Her eyebrows rise at the mention of Salted Silk, her lips curving into a light smile. “Wait, Salted Silk is yours now, isn’t it,” he muses, a smile of similar lightness blooming on his face. Chaeyoung giggles, the warm and bright sound bouncing on the glass walls. “Hey, you gave it to me, remember? Something about making peace, if I recall correctly.”

Leaning back in their respective seats, their gaze drifts aimlessly, another silence settling in the room. “Oppa,” she calls to him, breaking the peace. “Why not try selling something Azure makes instead?” Staying silent, Minjun blinks a few times, thinking about the offer. “Something that Azure makes…” His gaze drifts to the ceiling, then back to her. “Such as what, Chaeyoung-ah?” She grabs her phone, checking the list of new items that Azure’s RND team has created recently. “Erm, I don’t know—graham crackers, maybe? The materials for this are easy to get, you know.”

Minjun's eyes, wide with thought, settle on Chaeyoung. "Graham crackers," he repeats, a slow, intriguing smile spreading across his face. The idea is so outside Golden Leaf's current trajectory, yet, coming from her, it sparks a genuine interest. "Can I have a sample, please? I think this might work out well for us." His emphasis on "us" implies a shared future, not just his own. With a smile, Chaeyoung reaches for her handbag, pulling out an amber bottle packed in a plastic bag. “100 milliliters of graham crackers flavor, all for you.”

Minjun takes the amber bottle, his fingers brushing hers as he accepts it. Uncapping it, he inhales deeply, a surprised hum escaping him. “Oh, this is… different,” he murmurs. “This is ready-to-use, right?” Chaeyoung nods to his question, but she also warns him that it might taste a bit chemical-like, since it’s quite fresh from the lab. “I mean, if it’s good, it’s good,” he says, grabbing an empty cartridge from the drawer of his desk. She keeps her eyes on him as he fills a pod to the brim, biting her lip to stifle a grin; she doesn’t want to celebrate too early.

Minjun inserts the pod into his device, taking a cautious draw. His forehead furrows slightly as he exhales, but he quickly relaxes into a surprised smile. “This is a good starting point, Chaeyoung-ah,” he confirms, never one to shy away from offering praise. “Not sweet enough for my taste, but still very good. How did your team make this, by the way?” Chaeyoung grins, her heart soaring with pride. Her R&D team has done a wonderful job, and to have the head of the giant praise them warms her heart. “I just told them to try mixing some flavors together, and they came up with some new flavors, including this one.”

“Oh? Some new flavors, you say?” he asks, already considering about commissioning Azure to produce stuff for Golden Leaf. Chaeyoung pads over to the sofa, fishing out some more bottles of newly created flavors, and returns to him with a handful of amber bottles, each one labeled concisely. “Oh, now we’re talking.” Minjun grabs a bottle—strawberry shortcake, the label says—and inspects it closely. “These samples are meant for a customer, but you’re more important than them.” As soon as those words leave her lips, Chaeyoung quickly looks away as heat rises on her cheeks, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. “Anyway, let me know what you think.”

Minjun's eyes flicker to her averted face, a knowing glint appearing in them, but he doesn't comment on her sudden shyness. He shakes the strawberry shortcake bottle gently, his focus returning to the task at hand, though a quiet amusement plays on his lips. "Strawberry shortcake," he repeats, pulling another empty cartridge from his drawer. "Let's see if your R&D team can make me blush, too, Chaeyoung-ah." He winks, a playful challenge in his tone, then proceeds to fill the pod, letting her anticipation build.

Minjun takes a slow puff, his eyes closing shut as he savors the flavor. It’s a touch sweeter than the graham crackers one, and combined with the hint of sourness, it’s surely something that is right up his alley. “Can you do a production trial?” he asks, his voice crisp with intent. “P-production trial? Like… right now?” she stammers, slightly taken aback by his sudden (yet gentle) demand. “Well, yes, please.”

Chaeyoung stares at him, her initial surprise quickly giving way to a thrill of excitement. A production trial? She doesn’t even know what her team is occupied with at the moment. It's exactly the kind of audacious move she's come to expect from him, now simply softened by his current demeanor. "Yes, oppa," she affirms, her voice gaining its usual confident edge. "Let’s do a production trial. How quickly do you need the first batch, and what specific quantities are you thinking?" Her eyes gleam with a mixture of challenge and shared ambition.

Minjun glances at the clock sitting on his desk. There’s half a workday left, and as much as he wants to test Azure, he doesn’t want to push too hard. “At least 25 kilograms. Of course, it goes without saying that I want them quality-tested and ready to be used immediately.” Chaeyoung swallows a gulp; 25 kilograms isn't what Azure usually does for a production trial; it's usually around 2 kilograms, 5 tops. Her eyes dart rapidly as she cycles through her team’s current projects, the inventory levels, and the lab’s open slots for quality testing. “Azure Taste Limited accepts the challenge, oppa,” she says firmly, putting her worries to the side. “You will have 25 kilograms of strawberry shortcake e-liquid at your front door before 7 p.m. tonight.”

Minjun's intense gaze softens slightly, a hint of something akin to awe flickering in his eyes. "7 p.m., you say?" he murmurs, a quiet respect in his tone. "Then you might want to call someone soon, sweetheart, because this man in front of you doesn’t like lateness, and those mixers aren't about to move on their own,” he adds. Chaeyoung blinks rapidly, the hint of his urgency settling in her mind, and runs to the sofa to grab her phone, frantically browsing through the contacts to find department heads.

Minjun watches her as she makes one call after another, giving brief yet concise orders to each person. “Cute,” he thinks, an adoring but regardful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This isn't just about the flavor anymore; it's about the woman cranking the gears of production, thus bringing the flavor to life. When she finally drops the phone, a slight flush on her cheeks, he speaks. "That's quite a symphony you conduct, Chaeyoung-ah," he says, his voice laced with genuine awe, completely devoid of his usual corporate edge. “The things I do for you, oppa…” she muses, crashing into the sofa once more, her heart still racing with a mix of excitement and panic.

Chaeyoung closes her eyes for a moment, letting the adrenaline drain from her limbs. The weight of the 25-kilogram promise still hangs in the air, but Minjun's praise, his soft tone, and the easy way he now uses her informal name, settle something deep within her. She opens her eyes, meeting his warm gaze. No more is he a scary CEO that runs the industry; he’s more akin to a demanding customer, a confidant, or perhaps something more. The thought sends a new kind of warmth through her, one that has nothing to do with panic and everything to do with him.

Minjun watches her, a gentle smile playing on his lips as her eyes open, meeting his. He sees the softness there, the lingering wonder, and a warmth spreads through him that mirrors her own. "Everything alright, Chaeyoung-ah?" he asks, his voice low, filled with a gentle understanding. He doesn't press, just holds her gaze, letting the new, delicate understanding settle between them. The office, usually a place of sterile deals, now hums with a different kind of energy. “If you need fresh air, that door is open,” Minjun adds, pointing to the tinted glass door to the balcony.

Chaeyoung holds his gaze for another moment, feeling the undeniable pull of his presence. The offer of fresh air is tempting, but for now, the quiet intimacy of the office, filled with this new energy, feels enough. "I think I'm alright now, oppa," she murmurs, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Just... processing. Twenty-five kilograms of strawberry shortcake e-liquid by 7 p.m. It's a lot to process. I mean, the recipe was only validated yesterday.” A chuckle escapes her lips, as she thinks about how bold he is to buy something so new, so much.

Chaeyoung and Minjun sit together at the loading dock gate, their legs dangling off the edge. Minjun scrolls through his phone, not catching the way she keeps biting her lips, anxiously waiting for Azure’s truck to enter through Golden Leaf’s front gate. It is only when he glances at her that he sees the signs of nervousness; tense posture, lip-biting, and long gaze. A sense of protectiveness washes over him, but Minjun quickly diverts his attention back to his phone. “She’ll be okay,” he thinks.

Minjun carefully places his phone beside him on the concrete. "Something wrong, Chaeyoung-ah?" he asks, his voice soft, cutting through her anxious thoughts. He doesn't need to ask if it's about the delivery; he knows. Chaeyoung sighs, letting some of the tension drain from her shoulders. "It's a big order for something so new, oppa," she admits, her voice a low murmur. "I just... I really want it to be perfect for you."

Minjun's gaze warms further, understanding the unspoken weight of her desire to impress him. Scooting closer to Chaeyoung, he musters up the courage to wrap an arm around her, offering comfort. “It’s the effort that counts, sweetheart,” he whispers, his tone warm in her ear. “Even if the e-liquid isn’t commercial-ready right away, we can tweak the recipe and try again.”

Chaeyoung leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder, finding solace amid nervousness. “You know, sometimes I wish we had been friends from the start. I wish I hadn’t fought you over Salted Silk. I wish—” Minjun places a finger on her lips, tenderly deadening her voice. “This is how it’s meant for us, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaving no room for her to rebut.

A bright white truck, emblazoned with Azure Taste Limited's subtle logo, finally turns the corner and rumbles towards Golden Leaf's front gate. Chaeyoung lifts her head from his shoulder, her eyes still soft as they meet his. The hum of the engine, the squeal of the brakes—oh, it's the beautiful sound of a delivered promise. Minjun squeezes her shoulder gently, his gaze filled with shared anticipation, no longer just for the product, but for the future they are undeniably building together.

The truck grinds to a halt before them, its engine still humming. A Golden Leaf security guard approaches, ready to open the gate. Minjun rises, offering Chaeyoung a hand as she stands. "Let's see the fruits of your team’s labor, Chaeyoung-ah," he states, a note of genuine excitement in his voice. As the gate slides open, the truck backs into the loading dock, ready to offload the 25 kilograms of strawberry shortcake e-liquid.

Standing next to each other on the side, Chaeyoung’s fingers snake around his own, seeking comfort to calm her racing heart. “You’re okay. You’re totally okay,” he whispers, squeezing her hand firmly. She nods slowly, taking his affirmation to heart, but the urge to keep biting her lips proves irresistible. “Good or bad, we’ll think about it together,” he adds, offering closure to Chaeyoung.

The Azure trucker grabs a 30-kilogram jerrycan from the truck, placing it on the concrete floor before the two CEOs. “I was told to give these things to you, Miss Lee,” he says, handing a folder, presumably containing quality testing results, and a commercial-sized, 100-milliliter bottle of e-liquid. After handing those items over, the trucker scratches his head, seemingly puzzled about something. “Miss Lee, pardon my curiosity, but… why the rush order, and why did no one give me proof of delivery to be signed?”

Chaeyoung smiles, squeezing Minjun’s hand stoutly as she addresses the trucker’s question. “This man right here wanted to test us from all kinds of aspects, Mr. Koo,” she tilts her head towards Minjun, as if shifting the blame to him, “as for the proof of delivery, I think it’s an oversight, but we can fix that tomorrow. You’re free to head back.”

As Mr. Koo retreats to his truck, Minjun's gaze locks onto the jerrycan. He kneels, the weight of the container undeniable, and with a grunt, manages to pry open the cap. A rich, sweet aroma, unmistakably strawberry shortcake, wafts into the evening air. He dips a clean, sterile stick into the liquid, brings it to his nose. Chaeyoung watches him, her breath held, every muscle in her body taut with anticipation.

Minjun closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the complex notes of strawberry and cream fill his senses. A slow, beatific smile spreads across his face, not the calculated grin of the CEO, but the unburdened joy of someone who has found exactly what they've been searching for. He opens his eyes, a glint of pure triumph in them as he looks at Chaeyoung. "This," he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence, wiggling the smelling stick in front of her eyes, "this isn't just good, Chaeyoung-ah. This is the next big thing—the next Salted Silk, perhaps.”

Chaeyoung's taut muscles finally relax, a wave of profound relief washing over her as Minjun's words sink in. A warm, triumphant smile matches his own. "The next Salted Silk, oppa?" she muses, her voice soft with pride. "That's quite the compliment." She steps dangerously close to him, the gap between their bodies barely able to fit a sheet of paper. Chaeyoung asks, “You’re not playing with me, are you?” Shaking his head firmly, he answers, “No, not at all. I meant every word I said.”

Chaeyoung holds his gaze, a quiet awe blossoming within her. His sincerity, his close presence, the weight of his words – it all solidifies something profound. The cool evening breeze ruffles her hair, but the warmth between them is undeniable. She simply nods, a soft, contented smile on her face. The new flavor, the successful trial, the enormous potential... it all pales slightly in comparison to the man standing so close, the one who no longer plays games, the one who sees her, truly sees her. The future stretches before them, no longer a battlefield, but a shared, exciting horizon.

A quarter later, the strawberry shortcake e-liquid is not just a success; it's a phenomenon. It dominates the market, its unique, natural flavor profile captivating consumers across the world, not just Asia. Sales figures for both Golden Leaf and Azure Taste Limited surge, shattering all previous records. The "next Salted Silk" has truly arrived, and then some. It’s particularly strange for Azure; they have never seen numbers this big.

Chaeyoung’s eyes remain glued to her tablet as her Continental takes her to Minjun’s house. “That forecast graph looks like a mountain,” she thinks, her finger tracing a line along the graph. “And to think that Azure is in the center of all this…” Her gaze leaves the screen as she leans back in the back seat. “Is everything okay, Miss Lee?” her chauffeur asks, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror. “It is. If anything, everything is great,” she states, no hesitation in her voice.

The Continental glides silently through the opulent gates of Minjun's private estate, a place Chaeyoung has only visited a handful of times, always for a high-stakes, exclusive meeting. Tonight, however, feels different. As the car pulls to a stop, Minjun stands waiting at the entrance of his grand house. A casual shirt, the sleeves folded to his elbows, replaces his usual sharp suits, and a soft, welcoming smile is already gracing his lips. He extends a hand to her as she steps out, his eyes warm with an unspoken congratulations that goes far beyond just business.

Chaeyoung takes his outstretched hand, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. The subtle contact sends a pleasant shiver through her. "Oppa," she murmurs, her voice soft with a mixture of awe and contentment as she takes in his relaxed form. The scent of his subtle cologne, familiar from their close encounters, now seems to linger more intimately in the evening air. He squeezes her hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of their shared journey and the profound success that now links them.

“Tell your chauffeur to leave you with me, sweetheart,” Minjun mutters, an invitation to a special night lying beneath his voice. Chaeyoung nods, signaling to her chauffeur to leave her at Minjun’s estate. As the car disappears into the night, she turns to face him again. “I’m yours now,” she whispers back.

Minjun's smile deepens, a profound tenderness replacing the earlier gleam in his eyes. He laces his fingers through hers, the warmth of their joined hands anchoring them both. "Come inside, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a low, inviting hum. He guides her across the grand threshold, the heavy door closing behind them with a soft click, sealing them within the intimate warmth of his home. The quiet opulence of the foyer feels less imposing now, less a symbol of power and more a backdrop for the shared, undeniable connection that pulses between them.

Chaeyoung’s eyes land on the massive, plush sofa in the center of his grand living room. “Can we sit there, please?” she asks, pointing at the sofa, eager to sink herself into it. With a small nod, Minjun leads her to the pointed furniture, letting her sit down first before settling next to her. He turns to her, his hand gently finding hers again, lacing their fingers together. His thumb softly traces the back of her hand, a simple gesture that speaks volumes.

She leans closer to Minjun, to the point where he can feel her breathing on his face. “Kiss me, oppa.” Without hesitation, he gently takes her lips, taking her invitation to intimacy right away. Closing their eyes, Minjun and Chaeyoung stay connected, filling the air with a charged intimate tension. When the kiss eventually breaks, both are left breathless; gone are the CEOs—they are simply Lee Chaeyoung and Park Minjun, two souls finding their way to each other.

Minjun's eyes flutter open, dark with a shared emotion, as he rests his forehead against hers. "Chaeyoung-ah…" he breathes, the name a soft prayer on his lips. His hand moves from hers to cup her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. “This feels right, doesn’t it, oppa?” He nods to her question, the small gesture carrying more weight than any words he can say now. The world outside, the new success they have built together, fades into insignificance. All that exists is the soft warmth of her against him, the gentle rhythm of their breaths, and the undeniable truth of this moment.

Chaeyoung crashes into him once more, claiming his lips as hers, pouring everything she has into the connection. “I… I want to be with you, oppa. Not just as a business partner, but as a partner in life,” she confesses. Minjun takes a deep breath as her words settle in his mind, but before he can say anything else, she presses on. “Would you let me take the space in your heart that Miss Park Sieun once owned?”

Minjun's eyes hold hers as he rests his forehead against hers. "No one could ever replace my lovely Sieun, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with the enduring grief. "But you, my incredible Lee Chaeyoung... you don't need to replace her. You've carved out a space in my heart that is uniquely yours. A space that makes me want to live again—truly live. Not just for the past, but for a future with you." He pulls her into another deep, reaffirming kiss, sealing his words.

When the kiss finally breaks, they remain intertwined, foreheads resting together, breathing each other in. The silence of the grand living room wraps around them, not empty but rich with unspoken promises and the gentle thump of two hearts beating in sync. Chaeyoung lifts a hand, tracing the line of Minjun's jaw, a soft, amazed smile blooming on her lips. "A future with you, oppa," she whispers, the words tasting like hope.

Pulling away, Minjun’s palm lands on her knee, softly caressing it. “May I entertain you with some shrimp carbonara fettuccine?” he asks, a hint of excitement woven in his voice, seemingly eager to flex his cooking skills. Chaeyoung giggles; shrimp carbonara fettuccine sounds heavenly to her rumbling tummy. “Yes, you may, oppa. Please make it spicy too.” His eyebrow rises at her request. “Spicy, you say? How spicy?” She leans closer towards him, the idea of personal space non-existent. “As spicy as tonight will be.”

Minjun's eyebrow remains raised, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. "As spicy as tonight will be," he echoes, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends another shiver down her spine—this one is purely of anticipation. He squeezes her knee gently before pushing himself off the sofa. "Consider it done, sweetheart. Come, let's see if your palate can handle Golden Leaf's executive chef's spiciest creation." He extends a hand, inviting her to join him, his eyes sparkling with a promise of culinary, and perhaps romantic, adventure.

Chaeyoung settles on a stool at the kitchen, her hands resting on the clean marble countertop, while Minjun begins to prepare the fettuccine dish. She watches on silently, as if stuck in a stupor, as he moves around the kitchen with practiced fluidity. “Was he a chef in a past life or something?” she wonders quietly. “You know, I’ve always liked cooking for those I hold dear,” he says, as if able to read her mind. “Seeing people enjoy my cooking brings me joy.”

Chaeyoung’s ears perk up like an excited puppy. “Those you hold dear, oppa? Am I part of that exclusive circle now?” she muses, a flush creeping up her cheeks at the idea of being held dear. Minjun glances at her over his shoulder, a small grin peeking out the side. “You are, and once you're in, you can't get out—well, unless you do something very, very… uh, stupid.” She laughs, the sound filling the spacious kitchen. “Like stealing your most precious IP?” Minjun laughs with her, the clash over Salted Silk a distant memory. “Yes, like stealing my most precious IP.”

Soon, two plates of shrimp carbonara fettuccine lands on the counter, the smell of garlic and butter poignant. “I put 4 bird’s eye chilies in yours. I hope that's spicy enough,” he says, his gaze still locked on her plate. Holding his chin with her fingertips, Chaeyoung turns his face towards her—wait, since when is her cleavage exposed? “I can handle spice, oppa, and I'm not talking about chilies.”

Minjun's eyes widen slightly at her directness, the playful challenge in her gaze mirroring his own. A slow, consuming heat rises within him, far more potent than any chili. His hand, initially resting idly on the counter, slides towards hers, his thumb brushing against the soft skin of her wrist. "Oh, you're not talking about chilies, are you, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a desire he no longer bothers to hide. He leans in, closing the remaining distance between them, his gaze dropping to her lips.

Chaeyoung's breath hitches, her eyes fluttering closed as Minjun's lips finally claim hers. The kiss is deep, urgent, a declaration of all the unspoken words and desires that have simmered between them for months. His hand tightens on her wrist, pulling her closer until no space remains. When they eventually break apart, both are breathless. The scent of garlic and chili on the air are now mingling with something far sweeter and more intoxicating.

Minjun pulls away, a triumphant, tender smile gracing his lips. "That’s definitely spicier than any chili," he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “But whatever it is we’re about to do tonight can’t be done on an empty stomach.” A fond, knowing smile tugs at the corners of Chaeyoung’s lips. “I know, oppa, and just so you know, I want to be treated with grace and tenderness.”

Minjun's triumphant smile mellows into something deeply tender. He reaches out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch light and reverent. "Grace and tenderness," he repeats softly, his gaze holding hers. "You deserve nothing less, my heart." He then gestures to the plates of pasta. "Come, let's get some warmth in that stomach of yours. We have all night for... everything else." His eyes twinkle, a playful promise of the passion to come, wrapped in careful respect.

As they begin to eat the fragrant pasta, the air between them remains charged with that electric awareness. The meal is delicious, a testament to Minjun's unexpected talent, but it feels like a prelude. Once their plates are clear, Minjun reaches across the counter, taking her hand. "The living room, perhaps?" he suggests, his thumb gently caressing her palm. Chaeyoung shakes her head; she wants something more… private. “The bedroom?” he suggests once more, looking for a yes from her. “The bedroom, yes,” she confirms, leaning forward a bit, giving him a peek into her exposed chest. “Grace and tenderness, remember?”

He rises from his stool, pulling her gently from hers, their joined hands never breaking contact. He doesn't need to ask again; the answer is clear in her gaze, in the slight flush on her cheeks, in the undeniable pull that now binds them as he turns and leads her deeper into the quiet vastness of his home.

A shiver, this one purely out of exhilaration, runs down Chaeyoung's spine as Minjun leads her towards what feels like the sacred, yet hallowed, sanctuary of his bedroom. Her mind races with all kinds of thoughts; she is about to enter the room where Minjun and Sieun have shared nights of raw, unbridled passion. The idea that she’s replacing Sieun is almost unsettling.

The door looms, dark wood against the soft light of the hallway. As Minjun's fingers tighten around hers, Chaeyoung's steps falter for just a moment. She looks up at him, her eyes wide with a sudden, raw vulnerability. "Oppa," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Park Sieun..." She doesn’t need to finish the sentence; the unspoken question, the ghost of comparison, hangs heavy in the air between them.

Minjun's gaze, usually so sure, softens even further, acknowledging the profound weight of her hesitation. “No, baby, this isn’t about replacing her with you. This is about us, about the future we’re building together,” he assures her, pulling her into his arms. “I think… I think my Sieun would want me to look forward and move on, so please help me.”

Chaeyoung melts into his embrace, her arms tightening around his waist. The lingering doubt from Sieun's ghost begins to dissipate, replaced by the profound warmth of Minjun's honesty and his raw plea. She rests her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I will, oppa," she whispers, her voice firm, filled with a love that now understands the depths of his. "I'll help you. Every step of the way." Together, they take that first step towards the bedroom door, no longer a sanctuary of the past, but a threshold to their future.

The soft light of the bedroom spills into the hallway as Minjun pushes the door open further, holding it for her. He steps back, allowing her to enter first, a silent gesture of respect and invitation. Chaeyoung walks into the room, her eyes taking in the subdued elegance, the large, inviting bed. She turns to him, a soft, confident smile on her lips, and reaches for his hand again, pulling him fully into the room. The door clicks shut behind them, enclosing them in a private world where Lee Chaeyoung and Park Minjun exist as who they truly are, no façade of professionality in between.

Chaeyoung pulls him closer, her free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. “Oppa…” she mutters, her eyes fluttering close, beckoning him to fully close the gap. Without a word said, Minjun leans down, capturing her lips with his in an unhurried kiss, unattached to the world beyond these walls.

As the kiss deepens, she takes his hand, guiding it towards her bountiful bosom. “Mm…” Chaeyoung softly moans into the kiss, savoring the sensation his fingers are offering. They break the kiss momentarily, looking into each other’s eyes. “You like my assets, oppa?” she teases, pressing her body into him. “I do,” he whispers back. “You’re perfect, baby…”

Minjun's fingers gently explore, eliciting another soft gasp from Chaeyoung. He leans down, tracing the curve of her neck with his lips, his breath warm against her skin. "Absolutely perfect," he adds, the words vibrating against her as he lifts her into his arms. She wraps her legs around his waist, instinctively clinging to him as he takes a step, then another, moving them closer to the inviting expanse of the bed.

Minjun settles on the edge of the bed, keeping Chaeyoung seated on his lap, her red cheeks a proof of her unspoken desires. He sneaks his hands to the second button of her blouse, his gaze meeting hers, searching for permission. “Yes, you may,” she breathes, knowing what is on his mind. One button after the other swiftly gets undone, thus allowing a glimpse into her physique. “Goodness me...” Minjun is in awe at the sight before him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, baby…”

Minjun's fingers continue their gentle work, pushing the soft fabric aside as his eyes devour the sight before him. His gaze, filled with reverence, slowly travels upward, meeting her own. Chaeyoung's hand, which had been resting lightly on his shoulder, now reaches up, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. "This is me, and I’m yours and only yours," she murmurs, her voice husky, a playful challenge in her eyes that promises further submission.

Minjun's eyes darken, reflecting the fervent desire in hers. He doesn't need to speak; her words, her touch, her gaze, convey everything. He leans in, closing the final distance, and captures her lips in a deep, consuming kiss that tastes of promise and absolute surrender. “Baby,” he calls to her, his whispered voice husky. “Can you do something for me?” Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, bracing to hear her first order from him. “Say it, oppa. What do you need from me?” Taking her hand, Minjun guides it towards his growing erection. “Can you help me… get ready?”

Chaeyoung's gaze drops to his hand on hers, then follows to where he guides it. A blush deepens on her cheeks, but her eyes sparkle with understanding and eager consent. Without hesitation, her fingers curl around him, feeling the warmth and impressive size. "Anything for you, oppa," she murmurs, her voice a low, confident whisper.

Chaeyoung sinks into her knees, feeling the soft carpet through the fabric of her trousers. Without breaking eye contact, she swiftly undoes his belt and zipper, sliding Minjun’s pants down his legs. “Oh my…” Slowly, hesitantly, she reaches for his manhood, the shape and size apparent from the bulge on his boxers. She looks up at him again and asks, “May I, oppa?” At his approving nod, Chaeyoung lowers his boxers, not bothering to take them off entirely; she’s stunned by the sight of his asset.

Not wasting time, Chaeyoung parts her lips, taking the first few centimeters of him in her mouth. Minjun inhales sharply at the first contact, his breath catching at his throat. “Oh my God…” he mumbles. “You could’ve warned me first, baby, but… please go on.” Relaxing her muscles, she tries to take him deeper, fighting the reflexive urge to gag. His breathing begins to pick up tempo; it’s been so long since someone has touched him like this.

Minjun's hand, which has been resting on her shoulder, tightens, his fingers subtly guiding her head, urging her deeper. A low, guttural groan escapes him, a sound of pure, unbridled pleasure that vibrates through her. Chaeyoung focuses, pushing past her own discomfort, her movements becoming more confident, more rhythmic. The taste, the feel, the sheer intimacy of it all washes over her, a thrilling tide.

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, letting her movements be guided by his hand planted on the back of her head. At every pass, she moans around him, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. “Baby…” he whispers, his breath quick and ragged, and she’s quick to meet his gaze. “Goodness me, you’re… amazing.” She offers a wink before taking more of his length, making him groan her name. “You’re… killing me, Lee Chaeyoung.”

Eventually, Minjun’s hips buck, a desperate, uncontrolled rhythm taking over his body. His fingers clench tightly in Chaeyoung’s hair, pulling her head slightly back as a final, raw groan tears from his throat. A powerful tremor shakes his entire frame, and he collapses back onto the bed, utterly spent, his breathing ragged. Chaeyoung pulls away, breathless, looking up at him as he lies there, wiping the remnants of his release off her lips. Curious, she takes a lick; Minjun tastes so… manly.

A soft chuckle rumbles in Minjun’s chest as he catches the look on Chaeyoung’s face. He reaches for her, pulling her gently up so she’s lying beside him on the bed, his arm coming around her waist. Chaeyoung rests her head on his shoulder, listening to the steadying beat of his heart. The silence that settles between them is comfortable, filled with the warmth of shared release and the undeniable, tangible proof of their newly forged intimacy.

“That was just the opening act, though, right?” Minjun chuckles at her question, pressing a fleeting peck to her forehead. “It was. It was quite… explosive, might I add,” he adds. A satisfied grin blooms on her face, proud of herself for her performance. Her hand slides from his chest to his crotch, her fingers brushing against his manhood, the tip shiny from his earlier release. “Come on, oppa. Let’s get ready for the main event,” she urges, stroking him to full hardness again.

Minjun groans, a sound of pure pleasure rumbling in his chest as her fingers work their magic. His body responds instantly, hardening beneath her touch. He pulls her closer, shifting his weight. "You’re not one for intermissions, are you, baby?" he murmurs, his voice thick with raw desire. He lifts her, repositioning her over him, their gazes locked, ready for the main event to truly begin. “Go on, then; you know what to do.”

She lifts herself off his lap, quickly shedding every layer of clothes from her body, tossing them over her head, not bothered by the mess. Minjun watches her undress with a dark, excited gleam in his eyes, his cock pointing straight to the ceiling, ready for action. “Wow…” he murmurs, taking in the sight of her shape; she’s simply breathtaking. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” A flush creeps up her face at his admission, turning her cheeks red hot. “Thank you, oppa. You’ve said that before, remember?”

“Anyway…” Chaeyoung’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she positions herself over Minjun’s rigid length, her slick folds teasing the sensitive head. She takes a moment to admire the sight of him, spread out beneath her, his chest heaving with anticipation. “Like this, handsome?” she asks, her voice a sultry purr as she slowly sinks down, taking him inch by delicious inch until she's fully seated on his thick cock. “Mm, so big and hard...” She sighs, her inner walls clenching around him as she starts to move, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles. She sets a leisurely pace, savoring the sensation of being filled to the brim by her new lover's potent manhood.

Minjun’s hands instinctively rise, gripping her hips, his fingers digging in slightly as she rolls. A deep, guttural moan rumbles from his chest, a sound that vibrates through Chaeyoung and eggs her on. His head tilts back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss etched on his face. "Yes, baby… just like that," he rasps, his voice thick with raw desire. He begins to thrust up, meeting her every downward slide, finding a powerful, intoxicating rhythm together.

Minjun groans, his fingers digging into Chaeyoung’s hips as she sets a relentless pace, her velvety walls gripping him like a vice. The sight of her bouncing on his cock, her tits swaying with each thrust, is almost too much to bear. “Fuck, baby, you're killing me.” He pants, his vision blurring at the edges as he struggles to maintain control. “So hot, so tight... You were made for me, weren't you?” Desperate to prolong the pleasure, Minjun reaches between us to rub circles around Chaeyoung’s sensitive nub, hoping to push her over the edge and into a screaming orgasm. His own climax builds rapidly, threatening to overtake him at any moment.

A low cry escapes Chaeyoung as Minjun's fingers work their magic, sending waves of pleasure through her that mirror the mounting tension within him. She clenches around him, her hips bucking wildly, abandoning all control. "Oppa!" she screams, her voice raw, as an intense wave of pure sensation washes over her, pulling a guttural roar from Minjun as he, too, shudders into his release. His body goes rigid, a final, powerful tremor shaking his frame, and they collapse onto the bed, utterly spent, their bodies slick with sweat, the last echoes of pleasure vibrating between them.

Chaeyoung moans as his hot release pools in her core, filling her to the brim, a testament to his claim over her. “I… I’m sorry; I should’ve asked first,” he breathes, regret swirling within him for being careless. “Nonsense,” she rebuts, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “This cannot be any more perfect.” She shifts slightly, eliciting a deep groan from Minjun, and looks right into his eyes. “You’re perfect for me, Park Minjun.”

Minjun's arm tightens around her, pulling her closer against his damp skin. He presses his face into her hair, inhaling her scent, a soft sigh escaping him. The grand bedroom, once a symbol of his solitary world, now hums with the warmth of their shared presence. They lie intertwined, the steady beat of his heart against her ear a comforting lullaby, proof that they are truly, finally, home in each other’s arms. The night stretches before them, no longer a series of acts, but a continuous, tender embrace.

Hours later, the first hint of dawn paints the vast room in hues of soft grey and rose. Chaeyoung stirs in Minjun's arms, nestled perfectly against him, a warmth spreading through her that has nothing to do with the sun. She opens her eyes to find him already awake, watching her, a profound tenderness in his gaze. "Good morning, my heart," he murmurs, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Mm, good morning, my king,” she replies, stretching languidly next to him.

Minjun's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her even closer. He presses a soft kiss to her temple, savoring the feeling of her warmth against him. "Sleep well, my love?" he asks, his voice a low rumble in his chest. Chaeyoung hums in agreement, tracing patterns on his bare arm. ”It was the best sleep I’ve had in a hot minute,” she muses, her mind going back to the sleepless nights when they were fighting over Salted Silk. “And the fact that you filled me to the brim… it’s like getting a hug from the inside.”

Minjun chuckles softly, pulling her even tighter against him, burying his face deeper into her hair. "A hug from the inside, huh?" he murmurs, a contented smile in his voice. He shifts slightly, reaching for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I like the sound of that, baby. If you need another hug, just let me know; I’ll fill you until overflowing." Chaeyoung smacks him on the chest, more playful than harmful, giggling out of pure mirth at his teasing offer. “That’s a generous offer, but I think I’d give it some time before we go again.” She shifts in his embrace, her lips brushing against his earlobe. “If we’re lucky, maybe my belly will rise after a bit of rest.”

Minjun freezes, his laughter dying in his throat. His head lifts from her hair, and he pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for a hint of jest, but finds only earnestness mixed with playful hope. His breath hitches. "Your... your belly?" he whispers, the words barely audible, a profound mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy dawning on his face. She smiles from ear to ear, her eyes creasing into half-moons. “My belly, yes. I will give you heirs—that’s my promise to you.”

Minjun’s disbelief slowly morphs into a radiating warmth that fills his entire being. A single tear escapes the corner of his eye, betraying the depth of his emotion. He pulls her even closer, a fierce, protective embrace that speaks more than words ever could. "Heirs," he breathes, the word a sacred vow on his lips. "With you, my love, yes—a thousand times, yes." He cups her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, and pulls her into a kiss that promises a lifetime of love and the joyous chaos of a family built together.

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amiblockdlol · 2 hours ago

Text

A Daughter's Duty

[Commissioned]

Seo Youngeun (KEP1ER) × Male Reader

Incest, Non-non Kink, Deepthroat, Creampie, Anal

7,830 Words

This is a repost because Tumblr cut the story short in the previous one, smh.

You’re still half-asleep, the morning sun barely peeking through the blinds. Last night was a killer, so you decided to just sleep in. You’re the CEO, after all. Who’s gonna say shit?

Then, a strange warmth, a wetness, wraps around your cock. A loud slurp echoes in the quiet room, followed by a soft, satisfied hum.

Your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep, and you look down. And what do you expect? Of course, it’s her. Youngeun. Your daughter. Her hair is a mess, spilling over your thighs as she works, her cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed in pure devotion as she sucks you.

This whole messed-up routine started two years ago. Your wife’s new business had just exploded, leaving her busier than ever, barely home.

One morning, she just crawled into your bed, her voice a whisper, “Daddy must be so frustrated, huh?” She’d looked up at you, those innocent eyes hiding so much. “But it’s okay,” she’d said, her small hand stroking your arm. “I’ll be a good daughter. I’ll take care of you.”

And now she’s twenty, still doing her so-called “responsibility.” It’s truly messed up.

You thought this sick, sinful escapade would finally stop once she hit it big as an idol. But nope. Every time she’s on break, home from touring, she just transforms back into this eager, filial little slut, ready to serve.

That throbbing cock of yours is just swallowed by her. Youngeun gives you the messiest blowjob, her lips slick and wet, her tongue swirling around the tip. You can’t help but let out a low groan, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through your chest.

You carefully spring up, your hand instinctively reaching for the top of her head, gripping her soft hair. She doesn’t mind, just keeps on sucking, her cheeks hollowing with each pull. It’s like she’s playing with it, your cock, like it’s her favourite toy.

Her fingers, those delicate, idol-perfect fingers, are busy too. They massage the remaining inches her mouth can’t fit, stroking the shaft, then moving lower to cup your balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Ah… Youngeun…” you gasp, a little whimper escaping your lips.

Sometimes she goes slow, a teasing, languid suck that makes you ache. Then, bam! She goes fast, a rapid-fire assault that sends tingling down your spine. Deep, then shallow, her head bobbing, her eyes never leaving yours. They’re wide, innocent, yet so knowing, a constant, fucked-up reminder that this is your daughter.

“Oh, god… yes…” You moan, your hips starting to buck just a little. Finally, her mouth opens wide, and she takes you all the way down. Your cockhead sinks deep into her throat, a warm, wet vice.

Her eyes, still locked on yours, are starting to water, a sheen of tears making them sparkle. You can feel her gagging just slightly, but she holds it, her grip on you unwavering. “F-fuck… Baby,” You can barely breathe, just a ragged gasp escaping your lips.

This whole fucked-up thing has one major downside, one tiny little boundary she just won't cross. Despite all her eagerness, her absolute addiction to your cock, Youngeun won't let you cum inside her mouth. Not even once. She just refuses to swallow.

Every single time you feel that surge, that delicious pressure building, the one that tells you you’re about to explode, she pulls away. Just like that. Her head lifts, her eyes still locked on yours, a little smirk playing on her lips. She waits, her gaze expectant, for you to paint her pretty face and her budding chest instead.

You’ve asked her why, pleaded with her to just take it all. And she’ll just tilt her head, her voice soft and innocent, “Oh, Daddy, no. Letting you cum inside my mouth… that’s too much. Because you’re my father.”

It makes absolutely no fucking sense. Father and daughter the reason? But she can suck your cock like a goddamn slut, her throat working like a pro, and that’s not too much? The hypocrisy just makes your blood boil sometimes.

Right now, she’s sucking hard, her lips sliding back with a wet pop as she lets go. She giggles a light, airy sound that grates on your nerves. “Daddy, are you about to cum?”

You shake your head, a lie forming on your tongue before you even think. “No, baby. Keep going.” You want to push past this boundary. You’ve had enough of it. It’s fucked up, to begin with, but this one rule, this one stupid rule, is just the last straw.

Right after Youngeun throats your cock again, her tongue pressing hard against the underside, you grip the nape of her neck. Your fingers dig in, holding her head firmly in place. “Today, baby,” your voice is rough, “you’re going to taste Daddy’s cum for the first time.”

Her eyes snap wide, dilating with sudden terror. A choked gasp escapes her lips, and she starts thrashing, pushing against your thighs with desperate force, groaning, trying to break free. “N-no! Daddy, please… mmmph!”

Amidst her panicking, her teeth graze your cock lightly. It’s not hard, but the shock, the sudden jolt of pain, makes you flinch. You let her go. She falls sideways, gasping, coughing, almost crying, her body shaking on the bed. “Cough… Daddy… cough, cough…”

You’re up in an instant, your hand swinging. SMACK! The sound echoes in the room as your palm connects with her cheek. Her head snaps to the side, and a sharp yelp follows as she falls back onto the bed, stunned.

You squat directly above her face, your cock, still hard and throbbing, dangling over her mouth, open and gasping for air, you immediately shove your cock inside. “Gnnnnh!” Her eyes bulged. You start bouncing, fucking her face, driving deeper into her throat, choking her.

Looking down, you meet her teary eyes. They’re wide, pleading, but you don’t stop. She claws at your legs and kicks at the sheets, a useless fight. You reach back, fingers finding her stiff nipple through the thin camisole, pinching it. “Ah!” she cries, thrashing harder, but you just deepthroat her up and down, relentlessly.

“Remember what you said, baby?” you pant. “You’d take care of Daddy, right? And you’re doing so well right now.” You thrust deeper, harder. “I’m gonna reward you with my fresh cum.”

Youngeun’s eyes are filled with betrayal, but she can’t escape. Not now. Not until you explode. Your hips buck one last time, a groan ripping from your throat as you unload inside her mouth. She immediately chokes, gagging, some of it bursting out through the sides of her stretched mouth, trickling down her cheeks and chin.

You empty every last drop down her throat, a final, shuddering release. Then, with a wet squelch, you pull out. Youngeun immediately rolls onto her side, coughing violently, gagging, her body heaving. She’s retching, like she’s trying to vomit your cum right back out.

“Huuuurk… cough, cough… g-gnh…”

You step back, blowing a deep huff of satisfaction. You gaze down at her, your chest swelling. Finally. You finally managed to cum inside your daughter’s mouth and make her swallow. It feels like an accomplishment, a victory, even as Youngeun sobs, her body jerking with every heartbreaking sound.

“Sniff… hic… whimper…”

Without a single word, you turn and walk away, heading for the bathroom. Youngeun’s low cries gradually fade into the background as the hot water rains down on your body in the shower. You lose all sense of time, letting the steam and the warmth wash over you.

When you finally step out, feeling refreshed, you glance at the bed. Youngeun is gone. The sheets are rumpled, a faint wet patch where she lay, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

You get dressed, your mind feeling strangely empty, save for the lingering thought of your beautiful, sweet daughter. You leave the house, but there’s no sign of Youngeun. Your wife hasn’t even sent a message or anything. You sigh, a tired sound, and drive off to the company.

You can’t focus for shit at the office. Your mind is just full of Youngeun. What’s gonna happen now? Will she hate your guts? Is she gonna run to your wife, spilling everything, twisting the story, blaming it all on you?

More than anything, though, you want her even more now. It’s fucked up, yeah, but your cock sure as hell thinks otherwise. It’s been hard all day, throbbing with the memory of her throat.

Later tonight, you roll up to the house a little late, way past dinner. You expect everything to go to shit the moment you step inside. But surprisingly, your wife and your daughter are just… there. Home. Eating snacks, chatting lively, like nothing ever happened.

Your wife stands up, a sweet smile on her face, and gives you a quick kiss. “Hey, honey! Just got home, but I gotta bounce in an hour for a meeting.” She glances at Youngeun. “Youngeun, honey, if your dad hasn’t eaten, can you heat something up for him?”

You smile back, trying to play it cool. “Starving, actually. Don’t worry about it. Get ready for your meeting.” Youngeun shoots you a quick, lowered look, then disappears into the kitchen without a word. Your wife kisses your cheek again, a soft apology. “Sorry, darling. Thanks for always tolerating my crazy work schedule.”

You just wave it off. “It’s fine. That boutique is your dream, after all.” She jogs upstairs, and you let out a long sigh, plopping down onto the chair.

Looks like Youngeun is still keeping her mouth shut. That’s a relief, for sure. But her treatment towards you? That’s the real question. You just have to wait and see, won’t you? In just a moment, when she serves you dinner.

Youngeun finishes heating up the food, the microwave beeping softly in the background. She’s quiet, and so are you. You just watch her, her movements precise as she sets everything on the table. She’s wearing that usual oversized sweater, the hem falling just below her ass.

But as she moves around, bending and reaching, the fabric slides up, revealing more of her long, toned legs. One side of the collar even slips down her shoulder, showing a hint of pale skin.

“Did you eat?” you ask, your voice cutting through the silence.

She jolts, startled, and a fork clatters to the floor. “Oh! Uh… yes, Daddy. I ate earlier.” She fidgets, her eyes darting around the room, avoiding yours.

She bends down to pick up the fork, her ass, tight in those running shorts, shoved right in front of your face. You can’t help but notice it then, a dark, wet patch on her crotch, staining the light grey fabric. She quickly scurries back to the kitchen, returning a moment later with drinks.

“Care to join me, baby?” you ask, gesturing to the empty chair across from you.

Her words tripping over each other. “I… I don’t… I already ate, Daddy.” She won’t look at you.

You reach out, grabbing her wrist. Her skin is warm. “Look at me, Youngeun.”

She pulls back weakly, a pathetic little struggle. Her eyes are wide, feigning fear. “P-please, Daddy… don’t hurt me.”

You pull her closer, a soft tug. “Hurt you? Never, baby. I love you. There’s no way I could ever hurt my beloved daughter.”

“But… but you hurt me this morning,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I… I hate my daddy.”

You let out a low chuckle. “Really?” You lean in, your voice dropping. “Then why are you getting wet just by looking at me, hmm?”

Youngeun’s eyes widen, and she quickly denies it, shaking her head. “No! I’m not!”

You turn sideways on the chair, pulling her onto your lap, her back pressed against your chest. “A good daughter shouldn’t lie to her father.” Your hand drops, and you give her pussy a firm smack right through her shorts.

She claps a hand over her mouth, stifling a yelp. “Mmmph!” she whimpers. “Daddy, we shouldn’t… Mom’s upstairs… please stop.”

“I need to check whether you really want me to stop or not.” You slip a hand inside her shorts, straight to her wet pussy, you rub her entrance back and forth, a slow, teasing friction. She bites back a moan, her body tensing. “Stop, Daddy… Mom will see…”

You chuckle, a wicked sound. “So you only want me to stop because of your mom?”

She shakes her head frantically, but before she can answer, you plunge two digits inside her pussy. A wet, satisfying sound, followed by a choked moan that she can’t quite stifle. “M-m-mmph—ahh!”

You wrap an arm around her stomach, sliding your hand under her oversized sweater. Your fingers find her soft breast. No bra. Good. You squeeze her tit, trapping a nipple between your fingers, twisting it gently. Meanwhile, your other hand is still busy scratching the insides of her pussy.

Youngeun is covering her mouth with both hands, pressing so hard you know she’s trying to keep any sound from escaping. Her legs have already lifted off the floor, curling up, stiffening against your lap. She’s wetting her shorts more and more, the fabric sticking to her now, and she’s quivering despite trying desperately to control her reactions.

“Am I hurting you now, baby?” you ask.

She can’t answer. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her head shaking slightly.

“Answer me, Youngeun.” you demand, pinching her nipple harder. Her eyes snap open, wide and teary, and she shakes her head violently.

A choked sob-moan rips from her throat, muffled only slightly by her hands. Her body arches, a sudden writhe in your arms. “Ahhh!” Her hands fall away from her mouth, no longer able to suppress the sounds that spill from her. Her head thrashes against your chest, her hair brushing your chin.

“Oh, Daddy! Goddd—” she gasps. Her legs, which were stiff and curled, now spasm, kicking gently against your sides, her hips bucking against your hand buried deep inside her cunt.

A low moan vibrates through her, a continuous hum of pure sensation. She’s no longer trying to control it, just letting it all out, writhing and moaning in your arms.

Her face is a mess. Eyes squeezed shut tight, then fluttering open, glazed over with pleasure and a hint of shame. Her mouth is slack, parted just enough for those ragged moans to spill out, her lips wet and glossy.

Her cheeks are a deep, angry red, and there are tears, actual tears, streaking down her temples, probably from the intensity of it all. Her brow is furrowed and her jaw is clenched, like she's fighting something, but losing. It's a look of surrender, even as her body writhes.

You push your fingers rougher, grinding them against her G-spot, and then smack your palm right onto her clit. “What happened to not wanting Mom to hear, huh?” you say, taunting. “You’re so loud, baby.”

The reminder seems to jolt her, and she bites her lower lip, hard, trying to stifle the sounds.

“You still haven’t answered my question, Youngeun,” you press, leaning in close. “Is Daddy hurting you? And do you hate your Daddy?”

She whimpers, a stuttering mess. “Y-yes… Daddy… you’re… you’re hurting me. Stop… please.”

A big, fat lie. You know it. She knows it.

“Oh, really?” you chuckle. “For that lie, baby…” You shove your two fingers as deep as they can go inside her, burying them, and just hold them there. Her inner walls clenching, moving around your fingers. You hold her tightly with your free arm, pinning her against you, and then you start fingering her harder, faster this time.

Her breath hitches, a strangled groan escaping. “Oh… oh, Daddy¡! You shouldn't—” Her body tenses, then shudders violently. Her hips buck against your hand, her back arching, and a long, drawn-out moan comes out as she orgasms, wetting her shorts almost completely.

You withdraw your fingers from her pussy, a wet schlorp sound following them out. You bring them to your mouth, slowly, deliberately, licking off her nectar. “Mmm,” you hum, savoring the taste. “My daughter is delicious.”

She’s still twitching on top of you, her body riding out the last waves of her orgasm, whimpering softly. Truthfully, you want to rip that oversized sweater and those soaked shorts off her right now, make an even bigger mess out of her. But a quick glance at the stairs, a flicker of movement you think you saw, makes you control yourself. For now.

Instead, you rub her flat tummy, your hand slowly moving lower, a silent warning that you’re aiming for her pussy again. Youngeun’s hand shakily grabs yours, her fingers trembling. “D-daddy, stop,” she whispers, voice hoarse. “Mom… Mom can come down any time now.”

“Then get off my lap, baby,” you say, a smirk playing on your lips, “unless you haven’t had enough already.”

“I… I can’t move,” she stutters, her eyes teary.

You laugh, a low, satisfied rumble. “That’s even better, then. Because you can’t just leave without taking care of your Daddy, can you?”

You lift her down from your lap, turning her gently, and bend her over the backrest of the chair beside you. Her ass is right there, still encased in those wet shorts. You reach down, grabbing the waistband, and pull them down, past her hips, past her ass, letting them bunch around her thighs.

Screw it. You're too horny to care about your wife coming down soon.

“N-no!” she stutters, a weak protest. “Daddy, what are you doing? You can’t… not now. I’m not ready.”

Your hand delivers a sharp smack on her pussy, spreading the redness, the sound echoing. “Looks ready to me, baby.”

Youngeun’s hands stretch back, pushing weakly against your abdomen, a futile attempt to push you away, but she doesn’t move. Not an inch. You unbuckle your belt, the clink of metal loud in the silence, and unzip your slacks. Your cock springs out, already solid hard.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, a frantic drum. Fucking your daughter, without any protection, with your own wife just upstairs. It’s insane.

You press down on Youngeun’s waist, holding her steady, and use your free hand to guide your cock against her pussy. It’s warm, so damn silky, and with a slow push, the tip slides in.

“Ummph!” a choked sound. “Daddy, no! I’m… I'm your daughter!” At the same time, her pussy stretches, a tight, hot embrace she’s never felt before. She looks over her shoulder, her eyes wide with desperation, tears streaming down her face. “Please, Daddy! I’ll keep sucking your cock every day! Just… just don’t do this!”

But even as she begs, her body pushes back on its own, taking your cock thick inch by inch. You lean in. “It’s because I love my daughter so much. That’s why I’m doing this.” You grab her hips, a firm grip, and snap forward, burying your cock completely. Her mouth gasps open, and her eyes roll up, one wider than the other, pure white showing.

You grab a piece of bread from the table, the one she placed for you earlier, and shove it inside her mouth, silencing her. Then, you hold both sides of her ass, gripping her firm cheeks, and start pounding away.

This is it. The sensation of your own daughter’s pussy, hugging your cock tight and hot, a pussy you shouldn’t have invaded even if the world came to an end. But here you are, plowing her wet canal. At this point, you don’t care about prolonging it. You’re rushing toward that peak, rapidly, savagely. That’s how good it feels, fucking her.

Youngeun’s moaning is blocked by the bread, a muffled, guttural sound, but it’s still louder than you’d like. But damn if you care, grunting and huffing as you roll your hips back and forth, gripping her ass for dear life. Her pussy is already leaking, dripping onto her shorts, even splattering onto the floor.

“Your pussy feels so good, baby,” you pant, thrusting deeper. “It fits perfectly around my cock.” She can’t stand straight, her legs wobbling beneath her. You want to hear her screaming your name, but you can’t risk it. It’s fine, though. There will always be another time.

You’re nearly at the climax when you hear it. “Youngeun! Can you help me with this zipper, honey?” It’s your wife, from upstairs.

Your daughter’s eyes go wide, snapping open. She forces a bit of strength, trying to move away, to pull herself off your pistoning cock. But you lift her leg, holding it by the thigh, and keep railing her pussy, making her shake her head at you, panic taking over.

“Youngeun! Are you coming?” Another call from upstairs, closer this time.

“Reply!” you hiss, your voice low and urgent, your hips still pumping. “Unless you want your mom to come down and see.”

She spits the bread out, a wet, slobbery chunk, and holds her breath. Then, with a desperate, strained voice, she screams, “Coming, Mom! Just… wait a bit! I’m coming up!”

“Please, Daddy! Stop! Mom’s coming!” Youngeun mumbles, her voice choked with desperate pleas between ragged moans. She’s trying so hard to control her core, to keep from cumming again.

You ignore her, pulling her arm back with one hand, lifting her leg higher with the other. You fuck her pussy in upward motions now, driving deep, grinding against her depth. She grits her teeth, her jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscles strain. All her muscles are tensed, her body rigid as she fights for control.

You thrust a few more times, harder, faster than the previous ones, before cumming inside. Your body twitches for a few more seconds, a deep, guttural groan tearing from your throat. Then you pull out, releasing Youngeun, who stumbles forward, almost falling.

She’s so close to orgasm again, but luckily, she doesn’t. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to pull her shorts up and climb the stairs like she’s doing now, wobbling, needing to hold the railing for support.

You fall back onto the chair, not bothering to tuck your cock in. It just lays there on your thighs, still dripping, and you stare at how your daughter’s wetness clings to it. Then you look at the floor, a small puddle gleaming under the light. You scoff, a low sound, and mumble, “How ridiculous.”

You hear the faint chatting between your wife and daughter from upstairs. That’s your cue. You fix yourself, tucking your cock back into your slacks, zipping up. Then you start enjoying the meal she heated up for you.

Not long after, your wife comes down. Youngeun doesn’t. Your wife looks stunning, but that thought is quickly shoved to the back of your mind. She gives you a quick kiss goodbye and leaves the house.

After that, you finish dinner, do the dishes, and get freshened up for the night.

The next morning, you wake up. No daughter sucking your cock as usual. No wife beside you either. You wash your face, looking at your reflection in the mirror, and feel this weird dissatisfaction, a hollow ache. Pulling off your shirt, you head to Youngeun’s room. The door’s ajar. She forgot to lock it, or maybe she didn’t. Who cares. You push it open, step inside, and click the lock shut behind you.

Youngeun’s still asleep, sprawled out in the same shorts she wore last night, though the sweater’s gone. You quietly get on her bed, careful not to jostle her, and gently flip her onto her back. You push her legs up, sliding her shorts off her ass, off her thighs. She stirs a little, a soft sigh, but stays asleep.

You spread her thighs apart, and there it is. Her bare pussy. Beautiful. Sweet and musky. Without a warning, your mouth latches onto it. You start eating her, licking from her asshole all the way up to her clit, sucking on it, a loud, wet slurp.

Youngeun wakes up with a moan, then a scream of terror. She tries to kick away from you, but you grip her inner thighs, holding her firm. “Stay still, baby,” your voice muffled against her skin. “Just returning the favor for all you’ve done for daddy.”

She immediately starts sobbing, her body shaking. “No! Daddy, please! It feels… it feels weird and dirty! Just leave me alone!”

Your answer is to press your lips harder onto her pussy and tongue-fuck her, deep and insistent. Her back arches off the bed, screaming. She fists the blanket, her knuckles white, and her toes curl in pure bliss. She’s wet in no time, a gushing mess, as you lick, suck, and repeat, with an occasional slurp right on her slit.

You straighten up, stepping closer, your cock already free and hard. You line it up with her entrance. “No! Daddy, don’t! Don’t fuck me! I don’t like it!” she screams, her voice hoarse. That’s a straight-up lie. Or else she wouldn’t have spread her legs even wider, just like she’s doing now.

You push her knees wide apart, opening her up even more. Your cock pressed against her mound and you began to slide in. Very slowly. The tip pushes past the lips, then the head, stretching her, filling her. she moans, her eyes wide, fixed on the motion. Tears streaming down her face, begging you to stop, but her gaze never leaves your cock as it disappears inside her.

You watch her face, the mix of terror and something undeniable, flickering in her eyes. Her cunt clench around your cock, a tight, hot embrace, as you push deeper, deeper, until you’re fully buried inside her.

Every thrust is deliberate, making sure she feels every single millimeter of your thick cock. You pull back almost to the tip, then plunge back in, filling her completely. She can only gasp, her hips lifting slightly to meet your rhythm, even as she shakes her head, still pleading.

Her pussy is soft, so hot, gripping you like a second skin. This is it. This is what you craved. You watch her eyes, still wide, still locked on your cock sliding in and out of her, the raw sight of it. She’s terrified but her body is humming, responding, taking you deeper with every thrust.

You grab her hips, holding her steady, and begin to pick up the pace, just a little. Not fast, not yet, but enough to make her whimper, to make her arch her back, her fingers digging into the sheets.

This time, nobody’s going to interrupt. You’ve got all the time in the world. Her pussy gets wetter, the sounds of your skin slapping against hers filling the room. You lean down. “Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” You don’t wait for an answer, just push deeper, harder, watching her mouth fall open, her body convulsing. You’re going to fuck her until she can’t think and can’t breathe.

Both of you are sweating now in the morning light. You’ve been fucking Youngeun for nearly an hour, a relentless rhythm of thrusts and moans. She keeps her legs spread willingly, her thighs pulled back, giving you full access.

Your free hand works her tits, squeezing them red, slapping them swollen. They’re so sensitive now, each pinch on her nipples making her whine, and you swear you can feel a tiny burst of wetness squirt around your cock with every squeeze.

She can’t fully open her eyes, her lids heavy, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She’s just writhing, her body arching, twisting. She has cum so many times, each one a violent shudder, each one followed by cries. “Please, Daddy! Stop! It’s too much! Oh, God, it’s too much!”

You just pin her hands beside her head, her wrists trapped firmly in your grip, and pound away at her pussy. You edge yourself, pulling back just when you’re about to burst, then plunging back in, deeper, harder. Her pussy clenches, begging for more even as her mouth begs for less.

Then you creampie your fertile daughter once more, emptying your balls deep inside her. Her body spasms, a final, drawn-out moan escaping her lips as she convulses, her pussy constantly milking you.

The moment you come down from cloud nine, Youngeun has passed out beneath you, her breathing quiet, shallow. Now that your sexual needs have been sated, you can finally get ready and go to work. It doesn't take long before you're craving your daughter again at the office, a dull ache in your groin, but it's bearable for the time being. You attend meetings, secure an investment for the company, and play the part of the successful businessman.

You go home late in the afternoon, and what do you know? Your wife is home, dressed in casual clothing. She tells you she’ll be around for a few days, having finished all the important stuff for her boutique. It’s supposed to be great news, but you’re not all that happy anymore.

Not to mention that Youngeun is avoiding your gaze all the time now, her eyes darting away whenever you look at her. Funny enough, she’s acting perfectly normal in front of her mom, storytelling about her eventful idol life like you hadn’t railed her silly this morning.

Later tonight, you see Youngeun alone at the kitchen counter, scrolling on her phone. You walk up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling her back against you. You kiss her neck, then her cheek, then her ear, your hand lowering to her pelvis, fingers brushing against the top of her shorts.

She whimpers softly, a tiny sound, her breathing picking up speed. Then she struggles, pushing away, turning to face you. “I’ll tell Mom,” she whispers, her eyes wide, “if you don’t leave me alone.” You know it’s a lie, a bluff, but it still scares you a little, that tiny risk. You let her go, chuckling, watching her scurry away.

The next few days, your wife makes herself busy around the house, always there, always present, giving you less and less opportunity to mess with your daughter. You fuck your wife every night, ruin her, but it’s not satisfactory. It frustrates you, if anything.

What’s gotten on your nerves more is the way Youngeun is challenging you. Tight outfits that accentuate her hips and ass, short skirts that flash her thighs, intentional brushing against you in the hallway, bending over to pick something up, giving you a perfect view.

When you corner her upstairs, she acts defiant, threatening to call Mom and all that shit. She is playing you right now, and you hate it.

Today’s your lucky day.

Your wife’s friends are here for a morning gathering, all chattering away, making sure she’s truly occupied. You slip away, making your way to Youngeun’s room. The door isn’t locked, again. You’re convinced it’s intentional, a push and pull, reeling you in even as she tries to push you away.

You step inside, click the lock shut. She’s nowhere to be seen, so you quietly peek into the bathroom. And there she is, in front of the mirror, applying some cream to her bare face, wearing only a towel.

You barge inside, closing the door with a soft click. Youngeun’s eyes widen at the sight of you, shirtless and only in sweatpants. “Daddy? What are you doing here? Where’s Mom?” she asks in a low whisper.

“I miss my daughter,” you tell her, “And I won’t be able to work properly before seeing you, baby.”

She steps back, her eyes darting to the door. “I’ll call Mom!” she threatens, then rushes toward the exit. You’re faster. You hook an arm around her waist, yanking her back and shoving her onto the sink, her front pressing against the cool porcelain.

Youngeun struggles weakly, pushing against the sink, her breath coming in ragged. “Daddy, please! Have mercy! I’m exhausted! Please don’t fuck me anymore!”

Like hell you’re going to listen to her. You yank the towel off her body, letting it drop to the floor, and embrace her against your chest. Your fingers find her pussy and you slide two of them inside.

“I’ll make this quick,” your voice is a growl against her ear. “I’m really craving your pussy right now.” Then you start fingering her, hard and fast, tugging your hand back and each time lifting her feet off the floor, your palm harshly smacking her crotch.

You finger-fuck your daughter so hard she has to hold your arm around her stomach for support, her thighs squeezing together, brushing each other back and forth.

“Do you like this?” you ask.

“No!” she yells, her head thrashing.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Her answer is also a “No…” a choked mutter.

You let out a satisfied laugh, before pushing her forward, bending her over the sink. You pull your cock out, already throbbing, and line it up with her wet pussy. Then you push in, feeling her stretch and engulf your cock. You don’t wait, don’t hesitate. You begin thrusting, hard and deep.

The sounds are wet, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom as your hips slam against her ass, a beat against the porcelain sink. Her pussy is a hot, slick suction, pulling you in, gripping tight. You can hear her gasping, little choked whimpers, mixed with the sharp intake of her breath.

The sensation is pure bliss. Her pussy is so damn tight, so hot, squeezing your cock, wrenching with every plunge. Her inner walls clenching, wrapping your cock, pulling you deeper. Her ass cheeks jiggle and slap against your thighs, a fleshy percussion. The sweat drips from your brow, onto her back, mingling with her own.

Her skin is flushed, hot to the touch, and tremors are running through her body, a constant vibration against yours. Each thrust makes her moan, a desperate, broken sound, but her hips rock back to meet your cock, an invitation for more.

You keep hammering her pussy, the sounds echoing in the small bathroom. “You don’t need to play hard to get, baby,” you grunt, thrusting deep. “Just say it. Just say you want Daddy's cock.”

Youngeun’s head lolls, her eyes wide as she catches her reflection in the mirror, her face flushed, sex-drunk. “No! You’re a bad father!” she chokes out, tears mixing with sweat. “For doing this… to your daughter!”

“Is that right?” you ask, pulling back then slamming back in, repeatedly. “You’re a good daughter and I’m a bad father, huh?” You emphasize your words with another hard thrust. “If I’m so bad, then why are you soaking like this?” You pull her ass cheeks apart with your free hand, staring at her winking hole. “You’re such a liar, baby. And you need to be punished.”

Just as she’s about to scream, her body tensing for orgasm, you pull out. She whimpers, her eyes snapping open in disbelief. You push her down to her knees, her body trembling, quivering from the held-back release.

You guide your twitching cock, to her mouth. She opens, reluctantly, and you slide in, filling her throat. Her body shudders, desperate, her hands gripping your thighs. A few more short thrusts, and you cum, white and thick, down her throat.

You pull out your cock carefully, making sure Youngeun swallows every last drop. She does, a faint gulp sound, only her spit trickling down to her chin. She breathes out, a ragged sigh, when your cock finally pops free. She sits there in a W-shaped position, her body twitching, sobbing, riding on the release that just won’t come.

You crouch down, caressing the top of her head, her hair damp with sweat. “If you want my help, baby,” you murmur softly, “precisely, your daddy’s cock, just tell me any time. I’ll come running to you, alright?” You give her head a final pat. “Now daddy can finally go to work.”

You leave the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind you, and carefully exit her room. From the hallway, you can hear the faint chatter of your wife and her friends, still hanging out at the back of the house. You simply get ready, a quick shower, and leave for the company, a satisfied smirk on your lips.

Halfway through the day, you’re sitting at your desk, the hum of the office buzzing around you like white noise. Papers are stacked high, emails are piling up, but your phone vibrates, cutting through the monotony.

It’s a message from Youngeun. “Dad, I’m not feeling good. Mom’s out with her friends. Can you come home?” You raise an eyebrow. She’s 20, old enough to handle a cold or whatever, but something in the pit of your stomach tells you this isn’t about a fever.

Another buzz. A video this time. You glance around, making sure no one’s hovering over your shoulder, and hit play. The screen lights up with Youngeun on her bed, on all fours, her pert little ass high in the air, glistening with lube.

She’s got a shiny anal plug in her hand, teasing it against her tight, puckered asshole. Her whimpers are soft but desperate, her voice cracking as she moans, “Daddy, it won’t go in. Please help me.”

Your cock twitches in your pants. There it is. She’s finally dropping the act. For days, she’s been playing the brat, pretending she doesn’t love it when you fuck her senseless and pump her tight pussy full of cum. This morning, you left her high and dry, edging her until she was a breathless mess but not letting her cum. Looks like that broke her little game.

Being the CEO has its perks. You don’t need to explain shit to anyone. You grab your jacket, tell your assistant you’re out for the day, and head for the elevator. Your mind’s already racing, picturing Youngeun’s tight little body waiting for you.

The drive home is a blur. You’re hard as a rock, gripping the steering wheel so tight your knuckles turn white. You keep replaying the video in your head—her slick, lubed-up asshole, the way her thighs tremble as she tries to push that plug in, her needy little voice calling for you. By the time you pull into the driveway, your cock’s straining against your zipper, begging to be let out.

You barge through the front door, tossing your keys on the counter. The house is quiet except for soft moans coming from upstairs. You take the steps two at a time, your heart pounding, your dick throbbing. Youngeun’s door is cracked open, and you push it wide, stopping dead in your tracks.

There she is, just like in the video. On her knees, ass up, face buried in her pillow. The lube bottle on the bed, cap off, and her tiny asshole’s glistening, clenching around nothing. The plug’s lying next to her, clearly too big for her to handle on her own.

She hears you and turns her head, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide and glassy. “Daddy,” she whimpers, “it hurts. I can’t get it in.”

You step closer, loosening your tie, your voice low and rough. “You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you? Sending me that video at work, getting me all worked up.” You kneel behind her, running a hand over her smooth, round ass. Her skin is warm and she shivers under your touch. “You want Daddy’s help? You’re gonna have to beg for it.”

She bites her lip, pushing her hips back toward you. “Please, Daddy. I need you. It’s too big, and I’m so tight. I can’t do it without you.” Her voice is shaky, it sends a jolt straight to your cock.

You unzip your pants, letting them drop, your hard dick springing free. It’s thick, veiny, already leaking precum, and you stroke it slowly as you watch her squirm. You grab the lube, squirting a generous amount onto your fingers.

“Let’s see how tight you really are,” you mutter, circling her asshole with one finger. She gasps, her body tensing, but you don’t stop. You push in slow, feeling her clench your digit, so damn tight. “Relax, baby,” you say, forcing your finger deeper. “You gotta open up for Daddy.”

She moans, muffled by the pillow, her hips wiggling as you slide deeper. Her asshole is gripping like a vice, hot. You pump your fingers in and out, stretching her, watching her body loosen up. “That’s it,” you coo. “Good girl. You’re doing so well for me.”

Youngeun is panting now, her moans louder and needier. “Daddy, I want to feel it inside me.”

You smirk, grabbing the plug and coating it with more lube. It’s thick, black, with a tapered tip, and you know it’s gonna stretch her to her limit. You press it against her asshole, teasing her, letting her feel the cold, hard tip.

“Deep breath, baby,” you say, and you start pushing. She whines, her body trembling as the plug stretches her open, inch by inch. You go slow, watching her tiny hole expand, swallowing the plug. Your cock throbs as you watch. She’s whimpering, her hands gripping the sheets, but she doesn’t tell you to stop.

Finally, the plug pops in, her asshole closing around the base. She lets out a long, shaky moan, her body shuddering. “Oh my god! It's in my ass, Daddy, it’s so full,” she gasps, her voice high. You run a hand over her ass, admiring how the plug looks nestled in her tight hole, the sight making your cock ache.

“You did so good, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss the crater of her back. “But Daddy’s not done with you yet.” You grab her hips, flipping her onto her back. Her legs spread instinctively, and you see her pussy—puffy and wet. Her clit is swollen, and you know she’s desperate for you.

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between her thighs. “You dare teased me with that video,” you say, rubbing the head of your cock against her pussy lips. “Now it’s my turn.” She moans, arching her back, trying to push herself onto you, but you hold her hips down, making her wait.

“Please, Daddy,” she begs, her voice breaking. “I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.” That’s all it takes. You line up and thrust into her pussy, hard and deep, bottoming out in one stroke. She screams, her nails digging into your arms, her cunt squeezing you so hard, the slit like a rubber band..

“You’re so wet,” you groan, pulling out and slamming back in. Her pussy sucks you in with every thrust. The plug in her ass makes her even tighter, and you can feel it pressing against your cock through the thin wall inside her.

You fuck her hard, the bed creaking, her moans filling the room. Her tits bounce, small and perky, her nipples hard as pebbles. You lean down, sucking one into your mouth, biting gently as she cries. “Daddy, I’m so close.” Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you deeper.

“Not yet,” you huff, slowing your thrusts. You want to drag this out, make her beg. You pull out, ignoring her whimpers, and grab more lube. “Let daddy see how much you can take.” You slick up your cock, then press it against her asshole, right above the plug and she freezes, her eyes wide, but you can see the want in them.

“Daddy, I—I don’t know if I can,” she stammers, but her hips are already lifting, her knees up to her shoulders, offering herself to you.

You pull the plug out slowly, watching her asshole gape, then close up tight again. You press your cock against it, pushing in slow, feeling her stretch around your girth. She’s so tight, it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from cumming right then.

Stroking her clit with your thumb to ease her into it, making her moans, her body loosening, and you slide in deeper, inch by inch, until your cock fully buried in her bowels. Her eyes half-closed, her body writhing, squirming. “Ahh, Daddy, it’s so good,” she whines, but she’s pushing back against your thrust.

You start moving, slow at first, then faster, fucking her tight virgin ass while you rub her clit. Her moans turn to screams, her body shaking as you pound into her. “Cum for me, baby,” you say, and just like that, her ass tightens and she cums hard, her whole body shaking, her screams echoing in the room.

You’re right behind her, the sight of her cumming pushing you over the edge. You thrust deep, groaning as you fill her ass with hot cum, pulse after pulse. She’s whimpering, her body limp, as you pull out, watching your cum leak from her stretched gaping hole.

You collapse next to her, both of you heaving, sweaty, and spent. She curls into your embrace, her head on your chest, and you stroke her hair. You kiss her forehead. She smiles, sleepy and satisfied.

You’re still catching your breath, Youngeun’s warm body pressed against you. The room smells of sweat, lube, and sex, the sheets a tangled mess beneath your bodies. Your hand lazily strokes her hair, her soft breaths tickling your skin. You feel her heartbeat slowing, matching yours, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in the afterglow.

“Hey, baby,” you murmur, breaking the quiet. She tilts her head up slightly, her big eyes meeting yours, still hazy from cumming so hard. “You’re heading back to your idol gigs next week, right? All those rehearsals and schedules.” She nods, a small pout forming on her lips, like she’s already dreading the grind.

You grin, running a finger along her jaw. “What if we get away before all that starts? Just you and me. A little trip. Somewhere we can do whatever the fuck we want.” You let the words hang, watching her face light up, her pout replaced by a shy smile.

She nuzzles closer. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispers, her voice soft but eager. “I’d love that.” Her hand hugs your stomach tighter and her body shifting like she’s already imagining it.

You chuckle, pulling her tighter. “Good. Somewhere private, no cameras, no schedules. Just you screaming my name all day.”

Her face turns beet red, but you know she’s into it. Your mind is already spinning—some beach villa, maybe, or a cabin where you can fuck her on every surface without anyone hearing.

“Pick a place, baby,” you say, kissing the top of her head. “Anywhere you want.”

She hums, thinking, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on your abdomen. You can tell she’s dreaming up something perfect, and you’re already hard again just thinking about having your daughter all to yourself for days.

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