djwheks

[djwheks]

ASIAN HAVEN 🙏- VYVAN LE

Top 10 most mouthwatering influencers on earth

[djwheks]

Gambler ft Chaewon

Words : 7k

Tags : squirting, vibrator, nipple clamp

Chaewon sat cross-legged on the floor of y/n's apartment, her eyes scanning the neatly organized bookshelf in the corner of the room. She was a small, slender girl with a quiet demeanor that often made people underestimate her sharp mind and fiery spirit. Her shirt hugged her modest chest, hinting at the curves that lay beneath, and her jeans were snug enough to accentuate her toned legs. She had a penchant for simple yet stylish outfits that made her look both comfortable and alluring.

"So, what do you feel like doing today?" y/n called out from the kitchen, their voice muffled by the clinking of glasses and the hum of the fridge.

Without taking her gaze off the book spines, Chaewon replied, "How about a card game?" She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye that suggested she had more than just a friendly competition in mind.

y/n poked their head out of the kitchen, a beer in one hand and a pack of cards in the other. "Uno, then?"

"But with a twist," Chaewon said, her smile widening. "Every time someone loses a round, they have to take off a piece of clothing."

y/n's eyebrows shot up. "Strip Uno? That's a bit risky, don't you think?" They took a swig of their beer, watching Chaewon's reaction with amusement.

"Not if you're good at bluffing," she quipped, her tone light and teasing. She knew y/n had a penchant for daring games and was eager to see if they'd take the bait.

Setting the beer down on the coffee table, y/n shuffled the cards with a grin. "Alright, you're on. But only if we make it interesting." They paused for a moment, a glint of excitement in their eyes. "How about this: for each round win, you can put one piece of your clothing back on"

Chaewon felt a thrill run through her body at the proposal. She nodded eagerly. "You're on."

The room was filled with the sound of shuffling cards and the occasional laugh as they began to play. Each card laid down was met with a smack on the table, the tension between them growing thicker with every passing minute. The air was charged with anticipation, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting to see who would make the first move.

In the first round, Chaewon's hand was not as kind to her as she had hoped. She found herself stuck with a pile of high-value cards and no way out. With a dramatic sigh, she played a Reverse card, hoping to buy herself some time. But y/n was ready with a Draw Four, turning the tables and forcing Chaewon to accept her fate.

With a mock look of defeat, Chaewon stood up and began to strip off her jacket. It was a simple black leather number, but it framed her body perfectly, accentuating her narrow waist and the swell of her breasts beneath her shirt. As the jacket slipped down her arms and fell to the floor, she couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. The cool air of the apartment kissed her bare skin, sending goosebumps racing down her spine. She folded the jacket neatly and placed it beside her, her eyes never leaving y/n's.

The second round began with a similar tempo. Chaewon's heart hammered in her chest as she drew her cards. She tried to focus on her strategy, but the anticipation of the game's outcome kept distracting her. Her eyes kept drifting to y/n's face, watching the way their gaze lingered on her chest as she moved. Despite the friendly banter, the air was thick with a tension that was anything but innocent.

As the round progressed, it became clear that Chaewon's luck hadn't changed. She drew a series of unhelpful cards, and y/n's smirk grew wider with each one she played. When she was down to a single card, she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to reveal more of herself. The moment came, and with a dramatic flourish, she played her final card.

"I'm afraid it's your turn to pay up," y/n said, their voice low and smoky.

Chaewon felt the heat rising in her cheeks as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She had worn a plain white tank top underneath, which she now peeled off with a sense of defiance. Her breasts bounced slightly with the movement, and she watched as y/n's eyes darkened, their pupils dilating. The tank top joined her jacket on the floor, and she sat back down, trying to regain her composure.

The third round began, and the tension between them grew palpable. Chaewon's mind raced with both the desire to win and the thrill of the game's increasing stakes. Her hand was a mix of numbers and colors, and she struggled to form a coherent strategy. Despite her best efforts, she found herself with a handful of cards that didn't match up.

When y/n played a Wild Draw Four, Chaewon couldn't help but laugh nervously. She was now down to her jeans, and the thought of stripping in front of her friend was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the inevitable.

With trembling hands, she began to unbutton her jeans. The zipper whispered as it slid down, revealing the lacy black thong she had chosen that morning. She slid the denim down her legs, the fabric catching briefly on her hips before pooling around her ankles. She stepped out of them gracefully, the fabric whispering against the hardwood floor.

The fourth round had begun with a renewed sense of urgency. Chaewon's heart pounded in her chest as she held onto the hope that this time, she could be the one to turn the tide. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, she played her cards with precision, almost seeing the victory within her grasp. But y/n had other plans. They played a sly Reverse card, followed by a Skip, leaving Chaewon with no choice but to draw two more cards. Her eyes widened as she took in the new additions to her hand, realizing that she was still one step away from victory.

The tension in the room grew palpable as the two friends stared at each other, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air like a dense fog. Chaewon knew she had to act fast if she wanted to regain the upper hand. She played a series of low-value cards, hoping to catch y/n off guard. But y/n was a skilled player and quickly countered with a flurry of strategic moves that left Chaewon feeling both frustrated and thrilled by the challenge.

As the round drew to a close, y/n played a wild card, changing the color to green. Chaewon's hand was a sea of red and blue, with not a single green card in sight. She swallowed hard, knowing that she had no choice but to draw four. The room was silent except for the sound of her breathing, which had grown heavier and more ragged.

With a dramatic flourish, y/n claimed victory in the fourth round. Chaewon's cheeks burned with both embarrassment and arousal as she reached for the bottom of her tank top. She pulled it up over her head, the cool air in the room caressing her bare stomach and the tops of her breasts. The tank top joined her discarded clothing on the floor, leaving her in just her thong and bra.

"What if I don't have anything to strip?" Chaewon asked, her voice quivering with a mix of excitement and nerves as she looked up at y/n. The question hung in the air, thick with the scent of their desire and the electricity of the moment.

"Then you'll do what I say," y/n replied, their eyes gleaming with mischief. "But for now, let's keep playing. Who knows, you might get lucky and win a round or two."

The fifth round began, and Chaewon felt the weight of the game pressing down on her. Each card she played was a declaration of her vulnerability, and with every piece of clothing she removed, she felt more exposed—both physically and emotionally. She drew a card, her hand shaking slightly, and played a blue seven.

y/n played a blue four, and the game went on. Chaewon's breath hitched as she drew a Skip card, her eyes darting to her opponent. The anticipation was unbearable. She knew what was coming next.

As expected, y/n played a Draw Two, and Chaewon's heart sank. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, her breasts spilling out into the open. The fabric slid down her arms, and she let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. Her cheeks were crimson, but she couldn't look away from y/n's intense gaze.

The sixth round began with a sense of finality. Chaewon's hands trembled as she picked up her cards. Her chest heaved with every breath, her nipples erect from the coolness of the room and the heat of the moment. She played a yellow two, and y/n smirked, playing a yellow seven. Chaewon knew she was going to lose again.

With a flick of her thumbs, she pushed her thong to the side, revealing her shaven mound to y/n. She stepped out of the scrap of fabric, feeling a rush of cold air between her legs. The thong joined her other clothes on the floor, and she stood before y/n, completely naked.

The silence was deafening as they stared at each other, the air thick with desire. Chaewon's chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart pounding in her ears. The game had taken an unexpected turn, and she was surprised by the thrill of it all. The heat in the room seemed to intensify, and she felt her body respond to the raw sexual energy.

The seventh round began, and Chaewon played with renewed determination. Each card she placed on the table was a declaration of her intent to win back some of her dignity. She played a blue five, and y/n laid down a yellow eight. Chaewon felt a flicker of hope. Could she finally win a round and put something back on?

But fate had other plans. With a wicked smile, y/n played a Draw Two, and Chaewon knew she was doomed. She drew two more cards, her hand shaking as she looked at them. A red six and a blue nine stared back at her, offering no escape from her current predicament.

"What should I do?" Chaewon whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't have any fabric left."

y/n's smirk grew wider, and they stood up from the floor, gesturing for her to follow. She did so, her nakedness feeling less like a penalty and more like a thrilling secret shared only between them. They led her to the bedroom, a place she had never been in before, and she felt a mix of curiosity and excitement as she stepped into the dimly lit room. The scent of y/n's cologne filled the space, and she couldn't help but notice the unmade bed and the mess of clothes scattered across the floor. It was a stark contrast to the neat living room where they had been playing.

On the bedside table lay a shiny, black object. Chaewon's eyes widened as y/n picked it up. "Wear this while playing the next round," He said, holding out the ball butt plug to her. It was a bold move, and she felt a jolt of arousal at their command. The plug was smooth and slightly cold in her hand, the metal feeling foreign and intimidating.

"Okay, I will do it," Chaewon murmured, her voice a soft whisper of submission. She took a deep breath and slowly inserted the plug, feeling it fill her and the pressure building inside her. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as it settled into place, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. She could feel it shift with every step she took as she moved back to the living room, the weight of it a constant reminder of the game's stakes.

The next round began, and Chaewon's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and more turned on than she ever had in her life. Each card she played was a dance of defiance and submission, her body reacting to the thrill of the game. As she lost again, she knew what was coming.

y/n's voice was low and commanding as they handed her a small box. Inside, she found two shiny silver nipple clamps attached by a delicate chain. The sight of them made her breath hitch in her throat. She had never used anything like this before, but the excitement of the moment made her want to try.

Her hands trembled as she opened the box and took out the clamps. The cold metal sent a shiver down her spine as she placed one on her left nipple, squeezing it shut with a gentle yet firm pressure. The sensation was surprisingly pleasurable, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan. y/n's eyes darkened as they watched her, the heat in the room seeming to increase with every second that passed.

The next round began, and Chaewon played with a newfound sense of urgency. Her body was alive with sensation, the plug in her ass and the clamps on her nipples creating a symphony of pleasure that was almost too much to bear. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she played a blue three. y/n's eyes never left her face, watching her every move with a predatory gaze that sent shivers down her spine.

But it was not to be. y/n played a green seven, and Chaewon knew she was out of luck again. The room spun around her as she reached for the next item of clothing to remove, but there was none left. Instead, y/n leaned over and whispered in her ear, their hot breath sending waves of heat through her body. "This time," he said, "you're going to use this." he placed a sleek, black vibrator into her trembling hand.

Chaewon looked at the device, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had never used a vibrator in front of anyone before, let alone during a game of Uno. She bit her bottom lip, the taste of her own desire mingling with the metallic flavor of the nipple clamp. Slowly, she slid it between her legs, feeling the slickness of her arousal.

The vibrator was cold against her heated skin, and she gasped softly as she positioned it at her entrance. With a deep breath, she pushed it in, feeling the fullness and the vibration that echoed through her core. The game had taken an unexpected turn, and she couldn't believe the thrill it brought her. The room was a blur around her as she focused on the sensations building within her, the cards on the table forgotten for a moment.

y/n watched her intently, their eyes never leaving hers as she began to move the vibrator in and out of herself. Chaewon's breath hitched with each stroke, and she felt the pressure building within her. The game had become a dance of power and desire, and she was utterly captivated by the thrill of it all.

The next round began, but y/n had a different plan. He was a master of patience and strategy, and he knew exactly how to push Chaewon's buttons—both on the card table and off. He played his cards slowly, drawing out each move with a deliberate precision that had her on the edge of her seat. The vibrator was relentless in its rhythm, and she could feel her orgasm approaching like a freight train.

Chaewon's hand trembled as she tried to play, the sensations overwhelming her. She knew she couldn't hold out much longer, and she desperately hoped she'd be able to win this round. But y/n was unyielding, playing card after card without giving her the opening she needed. The tension in the room was unbearable, and she could feel her body tightening around the vibrator.

Suddenly, unable to take it anymore, she threw her cards into the air with a shriek. The room was filled with the sound of them fluttering to the floor as she lost control. Her body convulsed, and she felt a rush of wetness between her legs, soaking y/n's shirt. The intensity of her orgasm took her by surprise, and she collapsed back onto the couch, the vibrator slipping out of her.

y/n chuckled softly, the sound sending another shiver down her spine. They had won the round without even playing their last card, and she was left panting and exposed before them. But the thrill of the game had only just begun.

"I guess I won that round," y/n said, their voice filled with amusement. Chaewon nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "But don't think you're off the hook just yet." They reached out and picked up the discarded cards, shuffling them back into the deck with a mischievous smile. "We're not finished until one of us is completely bare."

The air was electric as the game continued, each round bringing them closer and closer to their ultimate goal. The sounds of their laughter and the occasional slap of a card on the table were punctuated by gasps and moans of pleasure. The room was a whirlwind of emotions, each more intense than the last.

As the final round approached, Chaewon was down to just the plug and the nipple clamps. She knew that if she lost this round, she would be fully exposed and at y/n's mercy. The anticipation was unbearable, her body wound tight with tension and need.

With a flick of the wrist, she played her last card and watched as y/n's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Looks like it's my turn to win," they said, leaning back in their chair. Chaewon felt a mix of relief and disappointment, the thrill of the game leaving her craving more.

"Suck my dick," y/n ordered, his voice low and commanding. Chaewon's eyes widened, and she felt a jolt of excitement at the sudden shift in dynamics. She had never been so boldly told what to do before, and the raw power in his words sent a thrill through her. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the vibrator, unsure if she could go through with it. But the heat in their eyes was undeniable, and she found herself eager to please.

Her trembling hand reached down to unzip y/n's jeans. The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room, a stark reminder of their newfound intimacy. His cock sprang free, erect and flushed with arousal. It was a beautiful sight, and Chaewon felt a rush of desire that surprised even herself. She leaned in, her breath warm against the velvety head of his cock.

"So big," she murmured, her voice a mix of awe and challenge. It was a declaration of her willingness to take him on, to conquer this final frontier of their daring game. She took him in her hand, the weight and heat of him feeling so real, so alive in her grip.

Her mouth opened, and she took him in, inch by inch, feeling the stretch of her jaw muscles as she tried to accommodate his size. It was a delicate dance, one that required precision and skill, much like playing the perfect Uno card. She felt his cock hit the back of her throat, and she gagged slightly, her eyes watering. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she took a deep breath and pushed through the sensation, determined to show y/n that she was more than just a pretty face and a clever player.

"So tight," y/n murmured, their hand coming to rest on the back of her head, guiding her movements. "Your mouth is so skillful." The praise washed over her like a warm wave, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Chaewon had always enjoyed the feeling of giving pleasure, and the knowledge that she was pleasing y/n in such a raw, primal way was intoxicating.

With a sudden jolt, y/n's grip tightened, and they began to thrust their hips, fucking her mouth with increasing force. Chaewon's eyes watered, but she didn't protest. Instead, she took it all in, the salty taste of y/n's arousal mingling with her own excitement. Her tongue danced around his shaft, exploring every ridge and vein, eager to give him the best experience possible.

The hand on the back of her head grew more insistent, guiding her movements with a roughness that she found thrilling. Each time y/n pushed into her throat, she gagged slightly, the sound muffled by the flesh filling her mouth. The vibrations from the plug in her ass seemed to sync with the rhythm of his hips, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

"Glukk glukk glukk," was the only sound Chaewon's mouth could produce as she worked her way down his cock, the wet noises echoing through the quiet apartment. The salty taste of him grew stronger, and she could feel his body tense with each deep throat. Her own arousal was building again, the clamps on her nipples adding an extra edge to the sensation.

Her hand wandered down to her clit, the nub of sensitive flesh begging for attention. She began to rub it in small circles, her fingers slipping through her wetness. The combination of the plug in her ass and her fingertips on her clit was driving her crazy. She could feel an orgasm approaching, and she knew she couldn't hold out much longer.

y/n noticed her movements and chuckled darkly. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself." he didn't stop fucking her face, instead increasing the pace. Chaewon moaned around his cock, her hand moving faster and more desperately. She felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping around her as she approached the precipice.

With each thrust, the plug pushed against her g-spot, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. She could feel y/n's cock swelling, and she knew he was close too. The power dynamics had shifted again, and she was in control now. Chaewon's hand flew over her clit, her thumb pressing down harder with each stroke. The tension grew unbearable, her body coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap.

The world around them faded away as they both focused on the moment, the only sounds in the room being the wet noises of her mouth and the slap of his hips against her face. Chaewon felt the first wave of her orgasm crash over her, the intensity of it taking her by surprise. Her body bucked, and she almost pulled away from y/n's cock, but his hand held her in place, not letting her escape the delicious torment.

The second wave hit her harder, and she came with a muffled cry, her muscles clenching around the plug. y/n groaned, their grip on her hair tightening as they felt her spasm around them. They could feel her body pulsing with each wave of pleasure, and it pushed them over the edge. With a final, rough thrust, they came, filling her mouth with their hot seed. Chaewon swallowed, her eyes watering from the intensity of the sensation.

When he finally pulled out, Chaewon gasped for air, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed over with lust. They both sat there for a moment, panting heavily, the room spinning around them. The game of Uno had become a battle of wills, and she had emerged the victor, at least for now. The look of surprise and satisfaction on y/n's face was all the prize she needed.

"Tell me what you want, Chaewon," y/n ordered, his voice gruff and demanding. It was a question that held no room for refusal, and she felt a thrill run through her at his dominance. She knew what she wanted, but saying it out loud was a whole different ball game. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, her voice steady and sure.

"Fuck me, y/n," she said, her voice a little louder this time. "I want to feel your big dick inside me."

Without missing a beat, y/n stood up and walked over to her, his cock still hard and glistening with her spit. He grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her onto the coffee table, positioning her on all fours. The coolness of the wood sent a shiver up her spine, and she arched her back, her ass high in the air.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to get what you asked for," he murmured, the promise in his voice sending a thrill through her. His hand slid down to her ass, and with one swift motion, he pulled out the butt plug.

"Ahhhh," Chaewon moaned, the sudden emptiness making her body spasm with pleasure. She could feel her juices dripping down her thighs, the anticipation of what was to come making her pussy clench. She had never been so ready for anything in her life.

And then, without any warning, y/n's cock filled her completely, sliding into her wetness with ease. The feeling of fullness was intense, and she could feel her walls stretch around him. At the same time, he pushed the butt plug back into her ass, and she let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure.

"Ahh, so much," Chaewon moaned, her voice echoing through the room. She had never felt so filled before, and the dual sensations were overwhelming. The plug was cold from being out of her body, but her ass quickly warmed around it, welcoming it back with a delightful shiver.

The vibration of the plug in her ass synced with each deep stroke of y/n's cock in her pussy, creating a symphony of sensations that sent her spiraling. "It's...it's amazing," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm building again, the pressure mounting in her core. "So...so full."

Without warning, y/n's hand cracked against her ass, sending a shockwave through her body. Chaewon's eyes flew open, and she gasped. The sting was unexpected, but it only served to heighten her pleasure. "More," she begged, her voice needy and desperate.

y/n's hand came down again, harder this time. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "How does it feel?"

Her words became a staccato of moans and gasps as he spanked her, each smack punctuating his thrusts. "It...it feels...so...so good," she managed to say, her voice breaking with each hit. The pain melded with the pleasure, creating a delicious cocktail of sensation that had her on the edge of madness.

The sound of his hand connecting with her skin was a rhythmic counterpoint to their movements, a perverse metronome that kept time with their passion. "Again," she whimpered, pushing back into each slap. "More."

Her body was a canvas of sensation, the butt plug and smack of his hand painting a new picture of pleasure. The plug in her ass felt like it was swelling, pushing against her insides in time with the pounding of his cock. "It's...bulging," she managed to gasp out, her voice strained with each deep thrust. "I can feel it...under my stomach."

The pressure was unbearable, a delicious ache that grew with every moment. Chaewon's entire being was focused on the fullness of her body, the way she was stretched to accommodate him. It was as if she was being rewritten, transformed by the force of his desire. She moaned, the sound deep and guttural, a primal acknowledgment of the power he wielded over her.

The room was alive with their passion, the smell of sex thick in the air. Her body was a symphony of sensations, each one playing off the others to create a crescendo that she knew she couldn't withstand much longer. "I'm going to...I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice rising in pitch. She could feel it building, a pressure that threatened to tear her apart at the seams.

"Good girl," y/n murmured, his hand moving to her clit to add to the sensory overload. His fingers danced around the sensitive nub, his touch sure and precise. Chaewon felt her body tighten around him, her muscles clenching as she approached the precipice. "Cum for me," he ordered, and she felt the power in his words, a command she couldn't ignore.

With a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Chaewon came. Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, consuming her in a torrent of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Her pussy clenched around his cock, her ass contracting around the plug. "AHHHH," she screamed, the sound echoing off the walls.

The world around them shattered into a million pieces as she rode the wave of pleasure, her body shaking with the force of her climax. y/n's hand remained on her clit, his strokes never faltering, pushing her higher and higher. Chaewon could feel her eyes roll back in her head, the intensity of the sensation too much to bear. "Y/N! Oh my god!" she cried out, her voice hoarse from her screams.

As she came back down, she found herself gasping for air, her body limp and trembling with aftershocks. y/n didn't stop, his movements relentless as he brought her to the edge again and again, her orgasm stretching out into an endless horizon of pleasure. Chaewon had never felt so alive, so in the moment. The game of Uno had turned into a battleground of desire, and she had never felt more powerful, more vulnerable, or more alive.

Chaewon's body was limp, trembling with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. y/n's cock remained deep inside her, his strokes slowing but not stopping. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill through her.

"I know," she whispered, the words barely audible. The intensity of the moment had left her breathless, but she knew it was true. In that moment, she belonged to him in a way she had never belonged to anyone else. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He began to fuck her again, his movements slow and deliberate. Each stroke was a declaration of ownership, a claiming of her body that she couldn't deny. Chaewon felt her arousal begin to build once more, the plug in her ass adding an extra edge to every sensation. She pushed back into him, her hips meeting his with a need that was almost desperate.

Their bodies moved together like a well-oiled machine, each thrust bringing her closer to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel him swell inside her, his grip on her hips tightening. "I want to cum" she begged, her voice a breathless whisper. "Please, y/n. I need it."

Her words seemed to be the trigger he was waiting for. He slammed into her, the force of his movements making the table shake beneath her. "Beg for it more," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head, and she let out a moan that was half pleasure, half desperation.

"I'm...I'm begging," she panted, her voice a ragged mess of need. "Please, y/n. Please make me cum." His strokes grew harder, more demanding, as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. "I'm...I'm so close," she whispered, her voice trembling.

The sound of his hand slapping her ass filled the room, and she felt a new wave of pleasure crash over her. "More," she moaned, her voice needy and raw. "Harder, y/n. I need it." The pain was a sweet agony that only made the pleasure more intense, and she found herself pushing back into each slap, her body craving the release that she knew was just out of reach.

Her voice grew louder, more demanding, as she begged for her release. "Please, y/n," she whimpered. "Please, let me cum." The words were a plea, a desperate cry that seemed to echo in the air around them. She could feel his cock pulsing within her, the heat of his arousal matched by the fire in her own body.

y/n's hand moved from her clit to her throat, squeezing gently as he whispered in her ear. "You want it that badly?" His breath was hot against her neck, and she could feel his teeth grazing her skin. Chaewon's eyes fluttered closed, and she nodded, unable to form coherent words. "Beg," he demanded, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine.

"Please," she choked out, the word a strangled cry. "I'm begging for it. Please, let me cum." Each word was a prayer, a desperate plea for the release that she knew was just out of reach. His grip tightened on her throat, cutting off her air just enough to make her dizzy with need. "Now," he murmured, his voice a promise of what was to come.

And with that, he slammed into her one last time, the force of it sending her over the edge. Chaewon's body convulsed, her muscles clenching around his cock as she came hard, her orgasm tearing through her like lightning. She screamed, the sound muffled by the hand at her throat, as the world around her went white-hot with pleasure.

"Tell me this pussy belongs to," y/n ordered, his voice a harsh demand that cut through the haze of her climax. Chaewon's eyes snapped open, her vision swimming. She could feel him, so close to his own release, his body taut with tension.

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt. "It belongs to you," she said, her words a declaration of surrender and ownership. The power dynamics in the room had shifted again, and she was fully under his control.

y/n's eyes narrowed, his gaze dark and possessive. He could feel his own climax approaching, the heat building in his balls. "Mine," he growled, his grip on her throat tightening as he thrust into her one final time. With a roar, he came, filling her completely. Chaewon's body clenched around him, her orgasm spiking again with the intensity of his own.

For a moment, they remained there, their breathing ragged and their hearts pounding in unison. The room was silent, save for the sound of their bodies coming down from the peak of passion. It was a moment of pure connection, of understanding and acceptance of the raw desire that had taken them both over the edge.

Slowly, y/n pulled out of her, the absence of his cock leaving her feeling empty. He removed the plug from her ass with a gentle tug, and she shivered at the sudden coldness. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. "What now?" she asked, her voice still shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm.

He smirked down at her, his eyes filled with a hunger that had yet to be satiated. "Now," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "we do it again. And this time, I'll show you what it really means to belong to me."

With surprising strength, y/n picked Chaewon up, lifting her off the table. She squealed with a mix of excitement and trepidation, her legs wrapping around his waist. He carried her through the apartment and into the living room, the journey feeling like an eternity as the anticipation built. He sat down on the couch, holding her in place with ease, and she could feel his cock still hard against her ass. "Ride me properly," he ordered, and she knew she had no choice but to comply.

Chaewon straddled him, her pussy slick with their combined juices. She positioned herself over his cock, the tip pressing against her entrance. Looking into his eyes, she felt a sense of empowerment as she lowered herself onto him. He was hers to control now, and she was eager to show him what she could do.

"Remember," y/n said, his voice a low growl, "you don't cum without my permission and u will count how many times u cum." Chaewon bit her lip, the challenge in his words sending a thrill through her. She nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She began to move her hips in a slow, sensual circle, her pussy squeezing him tightly with each rotation.

"I wanna cum y/n, can I?" she asked, her voice a sweet whine that was almost a moan. She watched his reaction closely, her heart racing with anticipation.

y/n's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. "No," he said, his voice a low, firm command. "Not yet." Chaewon's eyes widened, but she didn't protest. Instead, she leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, and began to move her hips faster. She knew the game they were playing, the delicious dance of control and submission that had come to define their night.

Her pussy was a tight, wet glove around his cock, her inner walls clenching with each movement. The sound of their bodies slapping together was almost as arousing as the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her. Chaewon could feel the pressure building again, the beginnings of another orgasm coiling in her stomach like a spring.

"Cum for me," y/n ordered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. Chaewon's eyes widened with surprise at the sudden command, but she found she couldn't resist the urge to obey. She leaned back, her hands planted on his chest for balance as she rode him with renewed vigor. Her breasts bounced with each bounce of her hips, the nipple clamps adding an extra pinch of pain with each movement.

Her breathing grew ragged as the pressure inside her built. "Ahh...ahh...ahh...yes!" she panted, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." And with that, she squirted, the warmth of her release flooding over his cock and down her thighs. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt before, a powerful explosion of pleasure that seemed to radiate from her core.

y/n watched with a mix of amazement and hunger as Chaewon's body convulsed around him. "One," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she felt the first wave of her orgasm wash over her. Her pussy clamped down around him, her muscles contracting in a way that was almost painful. But she didn't care. All she knew was that she needed more.

"Again," he ordered, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to resonate through her entire being. Chaewon nodded, her eyes snapping open to meet his. She began to bounce on his cock, her movements growing more erratic as she chased the high of another climax. Each time she felt herself getting close, she would slow down, teasing herself and him.

"Can I cum?" she asked, her voice a desperate whine. y/n's eyes narrowed, his hand moving to her clit. "Not yet," he said, his thumb pressing down on the sensitive nub. "Keep riding me." Chaewon's breath hitched, the anticipation of his permission making the need to cum even more intense.

Her hips rolled in a sinuous dance, her breasts bobbing with each movement. She felt his cock swell inside her, knew that he was close as well. "Please," she begged, her voice a needy whine. "I need to cum again."

y/n's hand moved to her throat, his grip firm but not painful. "Two," he murmured, his thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles around her clit. Chaewon's body responded immediately, her pussy spasming around his cock as a second orgasm ripped through her. "Good girl," he praised, the words sending a fresh wave of arousal through her.

The hand on her throat tightened slightly, cutting off her air. "Beg for it," he demanded, his eyes never leaving hers. Chaewon's chest heaved, her breath coming in short gasps. "Please, y/n," she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Let me cum again."

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, the wet slapping of their bodies. She could feel the tension building once more, the pressure in her stomach growing with each second that passed. "Now," y/n said, his voice a dark command.

With a scream, Chaewon came again, her body bucking wildly as she lost control. "Three," she managed to choke out, her voice a ragged whisper. y/n's grip on her throat loosened, allowing her to breathe again. She felt him tense beneath her, his cock swelling even more.

"Take it all," he grunted, his hips thrusting up to meet hers. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head, her pussy clenching around him as she felt the warmth of his cum fill her. The sensation sent her over the edge again, a fourth orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. "Four," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

They sat there for a moment, both panting and trembling with the aftermath of their shared pleasure. y/n's cock remained buried inside her, his semen leaking out around the base. Chaewon felt utterly claimed, utterly owned by this person she had once considered just a friend.

Their eyes met again, and she knew that she would never be the same after this night. The power exchange had changed her in ways she couldn't begin to understand. But for now, all she knew was that she was his, and she had never felt more alive.

With a grin that was almost feral, y/n leaned in and kissed her, his tongue claiming her mouth as his cock had claimed her pussy. "You're mine," he murmured against her lips, and she couldn't help but agree. "Forever," she whispered back, her voice filled with a mix of awe and desire.

The game of Uno had led them to this moment, a moment where the lines between friendship and dominance had been blurred beyond recognition. Chaewon knew that she would never be able to look at a simple card game the same way again. But she also knew that she didn't want to. This was a part of her now, a part of her she had discovered with y/n.

As they broke apart, panting for breath, she looked into his eyes and saw the same realization reflected there. They had stumbled into a new chapter of their lives, and she had a feeling it would be one filled with passion, pain, and pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. And she was ready for every moment of it.

But the night wasn't over yet. With a wicked grin, y/n reached for the bowl of toys they had used earlier. Chaewon's eyes widened as she watched him pick out a large dildo. Her body was already so sensitive, so swollen and stretched from his cock and the plug, but she didn't protest. She was his to do with as he wished.

He gently removed the plug from her ass, and she felt the coolness of the room rush in to greet her. Then, with a slick of lube, he began to push the dildo in. It was much larger than the plug, and she gasped as it filled her completely, the length of it reaching deep inside her. She could feel herself stretching around it, the sensation so intense it was almost painful.

He didn't stop there. With a flick of his wrist, he inserted a vibrator into her pussy, the buzzing starting at a low hum that grew more intense with each passing moment. She was already so close to the edge again, and she knew she couldn't hold on for much longer. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she panted, her body shaking with need.

But before she could finish her sentence, she felt the darkness closing in around her. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head, and she passed out from the overwhelming pleasure. Her body went limp, but y/n didn't stop. He turned up the vibrator, watching as her body responded even in unconsciousness.

For twelve hours, she squirted and convulsed on the couch, her pussy clenching around the vibrator as it brought her to one orgasm after another. The smell of sex and sweat filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of the vibrator. It was a symphony of pleasure that played out across her unconscious mind, a testament to their newfound bond.

When she finally came to, she was lying in a pool of her own fluids, the dildo still in her ass and the vibrator buzzing away in her pussy. y/n was sitting beside her, watching her with a look of pride and possessiveness. "Welcome back," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the early morning.

Chaewon blinked, trying to focus on his face. "What...what happened?" she managed to croak out.

"You passed out," he said, his smirk never wavering. "But that didn't stop me from having my fun."

Her cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. She had never experienced anything like this before, and the thought of being used so completely was both terrifying and incredibly thrilling.

"Do you want me to take them out?" he asked, his eyes on the toys still embedded in her body. Chaewon's gaze darted down to where the dildo and vibrator lay, her body still quivering slightly from the aftershocks of her marathon orgasm.

With a shaky nod, she whispered, "Yes, please."

y/n leaned in, his hand moving to the base of the dildo. With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to pull it out, the sensation of being filled and then empty sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. As the last inch disappeared, she felt a gush of wetness, her body still responding even now.

He turned off the vibrator and removed it gently, placing both toys aside. Then, with the tender touch of a lover, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she trembled with the aftermath of what had happened. "You're mine," he murmured into her hair. "Mine to use, mine to protect, and mine to love."

Chaewon couldn't argue with that. As she curled into his embrace, she knew that she had found a part of herself that she had never known existed. And she was ready to explore it further, with y/n by her side.

Their friendship had transformed into something darker, something more primal and raw. And as the dawn broke outside, casting a soft light across their tangled forms, she knew that she would never want to go back to the way things were before.

[djwheks]

fuck claraaaaaa

[djwheks]

dm to trade or lewd

[djwheks]

damn might as well not wear anything

[djwheks]

YEJI × 250620 girls will be girls

[djwheks]

CHAERYEONG 250615 · girls will be girls

[djwheks]

Such a slut

[djwheks]

ryujin × girls will be girls (250613) – ending fairy

[djwheks]

triple dog dare (ive wonyoung)

(male reader, prompt for & much love to suchsweetstories, 6k words)

A year to the day since the last time you saw her face:

You run into Jang Wonyoung in the alley behind a seedy bar.

“Hey,” you say, and stop short. 

“Hey,” Wonyoung says. She’s wearing a black dress, thin straps, hem falling past her knees. She doesn’t even look surprised to see you. Only coughs around the cigarette she’s smoking.

“I was actually just about to call you.” 

“Were you?” Her voice, when unforced, is always different than you expect. Low and rich and full. 

“Yeah,” you say. It’s ludicrous, running into her tonight. Like something more divine than coincidence. “I was. Happy birthday.” 

Wonyoung stares at you.

“Don’t,” she says. “Don’t say that to me.” 

It doesn’t matter that it’s been a year. Jang Wonyoung is the same as she always is. Ice-cold. No dimples. No smile. All that glossy excessive hair. Those unseeing, unblinking large round doll eyes, reflective sheen like they’re encased in plastic. She looks beautiful. She looks like a ghost. She looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, sickly and skeletal in the moonlight. She looks like no one you could ever love.

“Wonyoung,” you say. “Come home with me.”

She takes another drag. You shouldn’t smoke, you think of telling her; come on, you’re killing yourself. But you’d never say that. You’re not in the business of hurting her and you never have been. Plus it’s her twenty-fifth birthday and there’s only so much cruelty a girl can take, even a girl like her. 

It doesn’t matter that it’s been a year. Everything between you two is still as spectacularly fucked up as it’s always been. 

“Fuck you,” Wonyoung says. And then she takes your hand. 

-

You and Wonyoung have no reason to know each other. But:

“This is my table.” 

It’s seven years ago and the first time you meet is in college, when you’re waiting in an on-campus coffee shop and look up from your laptop and there’s this girl standing above you with her arms crossed, looking somewhat mutinous. “I’m sorry?” you say. 

“This is my table.” No pleasantries. Actually tapping her foot at you in her prissy little ballet flat. “I sit here every time I come here.”

“Uh,” you say. 

“So move,” says the girl, flatly. 

“Um-” 

“My God, Wonyoung, are you already torturing him?” 

The switch in mood is immediate, an impossible glimpse of summer sun in mid-winter blizzard. An Yujin walks up with her dimples and tight jeans and dazzling smile and throws an arm around the girl’s stiff, slender shoulders. The effect she has on you just by walking into a room is physical. You relax the second she throws that smile your way. 

“Oh,” says the girl. Looks from Yujin to you. Her expression shifts even colder, as if to compensate. But just like you, her posture relaxes too. “So he’s one of yours?” 

You splutter. “One of-” 

“Shush.” Yujin smacks a kiss to the girl’s cheek. “Ignore her,” she says to you. “This is Wonyoung, my best friend. And - yes, she’s always this much of a sweetheart.” Then she grins, throws a hand out to you in a flourish. “Wonyoung, this is the guy I’m going to marry when I turn thirty.” 

“I’m her boyfriend,” you supply. “Nice to meet you.” 

Wonyoung’s face contorts like she’s just eaten something very sour. She gives you a rather unimpressed once-over, from your hair to your shoes. You’re halfway convinced that she’s about to chew you out like a mean girl from a movie. But all she says is: “Thirty? Like, exactly? You don’t want to get married earlier?”

“I’m not going to get married in my twenties like a fucking child bride,” says Yujin, appalled. “I’m way too pretty to squander my youth like that.” 

Horrifically this makes both you and Wonyoung laugh. You glance her way; she wrinkles her pert, perfect nose, disgruntled to have something in common with you. 

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” Yujin says, cheerfully oblivious or very good at faking it, and plops herself down right next to you.

Somehow you all end up sharing the table for the next two hours. Obviously Wonyoung doesn’t say another word to you that isn’t snide and you roll your eyes every time she tosses that long glossy curtain of hair. But you keep having these moments where you glance up and your gazes connect, where you catch each other with mirroring grins, where she goes to kick Yujin under the table at the same time you reach for her hand. It’s uncanny and horrible. She looks at Yujin the exact same way you do; quickly it becomes clear that this is kind of the root of the problem. But it’s just kid stuff, this instant rivalry. It’s college and you’re a stupid teenager and she’s a heinous bitch. You don’t look at Jang Wonyoung and think: We’re going to know each other forever. 

But that’s exactly what you do. 

-

About how you met An Yujin: 

You were taking the same two PM lecture. You both sat in the back of the class. You turned to the side on the very first day and saw bangs and bright eyes and dimples and a low-cut top and a thousand-watt smile. Hi, the girl said. Her hair was up. You couldn’t stop staring at the column of her throat. Hi, you said, dumbly. The smile got wider. Then she said: You’re really cute. Why don’t I know you? Ten minutes later you were skipping class to make out in the bathroom. A week later you were dating. I don’t believe in taking things slow, Yujin said that Saturday, following you into your shitty dorm room wearing shorts so tiny it should qualify as public indecency. She’d made you laugh and then sucked your soul out through your dick and then made you laugh again. Naturally you have come to the conclusion that you have miraculously stumbled across the love of your life. But she holds your hand and kisses your mouth and steals all your clothes and fucks you half to death and tells everyone who’ll listen that she’s marrying you so at least you’re pretty sure it’s mutual. 

“Oh, wow,” says Wonyoung, when she hears you tell this story. “Been there.” 

You gape at her for a second. Then say: “Which part?” 

“Definitely the part where she fell in love with me after I gave her the best head of her life,” says Yujin. 

“No,” says Wonyoung, frostily, color rising in her cheeks. “Shut up. Obviously not that. We’ve never - whatever. I meant the…” Here she mimics you: “Why don’t I know you?” 

“Right.” You say. You shoot a sidelong glance at Yujin, who looks very pleased with herself. Flash of both dimples and most of her teeth. “That how she got you, too?” 

“Pretty much,” agrees Wonyoung. “Seventh grade. She sat right next to me in class and said: You’re too pretty for me to not know you.” Wonyoung makes her voice nasal and smarmy with the impression, gives an exasperated little eye-roll after. But there’s a tilt to her mouth that makes you think that line worked exactly the way it was supposed to. “Best friends ever since.”

“Is this what you do?” you say to Yujin, whose smile has gone so wide her eyes are nearly shut. “You just walk up to people and decide they belong to you?”

Except these days you’ve learned to know her, so you already know the answer. Oddly enough you’ve sort of learned to know Wonyoung, too. It’s weird but the months pass and the three of you hang out every week, almost every day. You skip more classes than you attend and pretend you’re studying together just to end up talking for hours and go to terrible frat parties and spend your weekends getting high in their dorm room until Yujin’s half in your lap and Wonyoung’s ice-princess face has split open in real unguarded laughter. When she looks at you in those moments it’s almost like you’re friends. But then she sees you looking and her expression goes cold and you’re certain you never will be. 

“Yep,” chirps Yujin, leans in, kisses you. Pulls back with victory in her eyes. “Now you’re mine forever.”

“Alright,” you say, smiling. “I think I can be okay with that.” 

-

She breaks up with you that spring. 

She was really very nice about it in the moment, too. Said all the right things like she was reading from a playbook, held your hand to soften the blow. Her bangs were falling into her eyes and you went to brush them away before you remembered you were no longer allowed to. She sighed and said: It’s not you, it’s me. But coming out of her mouth it sounded like brave and earnest honesty instead of the world’s worst cliché. What happened to being yours forever? you wanted to say, and didn’t. Like she’d heard it anyway, Yujin smiled sadly. So sympathetic and sorry. I’m sorry things have to be like this, she told you. I never meant to break your heart. But you stared at those dimples and you knew better. Does it really matter if I left you? that smile said. You still belong to me.

Is there any way we can still be friends? Yujin asked, blinking up at you hopefully. 

Of course, you said, sick with love for her. Always. 

“Damn,” says Wonyoung, when she hears the news. She’s doing that thing where she makes her voice higher than it actually is, as if the princess-like benevolence will cover all the sarcasm. “Tough break. I really thought you guys were in it for the long haul.”

“We’re better off as friends,” you say. “Just like you and her, right? Friends.”

Wonyoung’s doll eyes narrow to slits. You watch her fingers twitch, each nail painted pink like viscera. But all she says is, “Right,” voice still sugar-sweet, and somehow turns away without strangling you. 

And, well. Probably you’ll hate each other's guts forever. Probably she’ll murder you some other time. But you’re Yujin’s two favorite people in the world - that’s a tie that won’t break easily. Like being handcuffed to Wonyoung’s bony little wrist, thrashing so hard against the link between you that it leaves you both with bruises. 

Or scars, one day, if you keep this up. But you’ll just have to wait and see. 

-

A comprehensive list of your most significant memories involving An Yujin and Jang Wonyoung:

1. Freshman year finals week, the three of you holed up in the twenty-four-hour study room in the library until you accidentally fell asleep. Somehow you had all melted together on the floor like some misshapen, multi-headed body; Wonyoung was leaning against your shoulder; Yujin was kind of sprawled across both of your laps. Guys, you said, which startled Wonyoung awake. What are you… she began, peeved to be touching you, obviously about to throw some sort of fit. But then she saw that Yujin was still knocked out cold and paused. Wonyoung’s face was still puffy with sleep, mascara flaking off beneath her eyes. It was the first time you had ever seen her look less than perfect. Eventually Wonyoung said: Don’t wake her up. Then she spent the better part of an hour pressed against your side, sifting a hand through Yujin’s hair. Thing is, you probably knew Wonyoung was in love with Yujin before then. But that was the moment you were finally sure. 

2. Sophomore year Yujin dated some guy who thought she hung the moon, which was the kind of worship that can really only end one way: him storming out of Yujin’s dorm and running straight into you and Wonyoung and snapping: I don’t know how you put up with her - that girl is seriously fucked up. Then he started talking shit about her to anyone who would listen. So one night you and Wonyoung and Yujin went out to the parking lot and destroyed her ex’s car. More accurately: you and Wonyoung destroyed his car while Yujin sat on the curb and cheered you on. Whatever. You were all pretty drunk. Here’s what you remember: Yujin’s wicked grin, moonlight pooling in the cup of her collarbone. Wonyoung, wearing a miniskirt and hair tied up in some complicated updo. She was so ridiculous and girlish and vain, even then: leather gloves and lip gloss as she dug a knife into some asshole’s tires. She caught you staring and scowled at you, like she was waiting for you to finish the job. So you glared back and you did. Spectating from her spot on the curb, Yujin laughed and laughed. I fucking love you guys, she hollered, and you believed her. You had never seen her happier and maybe never would.

3. Junior year Yujin started drinking a lot, and often, and destructively, to the point that you and Wonyoung began staying sober at parties just to look after her. But there was this one night where you were so tired of playing babysitter to the girl who broke your heart that you got drunk yourself and started flirting with some girl who was not nearly as gorgeous or complex or exhilarating or infuriating as An Yujin. Which was okay. Preferable, actually. But then just as you started kissing her Wonyoung stomped up to you and bodily ripped you off this girl with strength she summoned from God-knows-where and demanded to know where Yujin was. I don’t know, you said. You don’t know? she repeated, the high panicked pitch of her voice unfeigned for once. And that’s how you knew it was bad. So you two tore the place apart looking for her and eventually found Yujin locked in the upstairs bathroom. She was crying hysterically, blubbering nonsense. You were willing to step out, let her cool off. But Wonyoung knelt by the door. Please, she said. Her face was pale and tight with fear. Please open the door. I just need to know you’re okay. Tell me you’re okay. She stayed like that for twenty minutes until Yujin flung open the door and threw her body into Wonyoung’s arms, tears apparently forgotten. Wonyoung shut her eyes. As she hugged Yujin back you could see that she was trembling all over. After you’d both gotten her home and into bed Wonyoung yelled at you for a long time, for being a fucking idiot, for letting Yujin get so drunk, for leaving her alone, God, fuck, don’t you know you can’t leave her alone like that? Then she’d sunk to her knees outside of Yujin’s bedroom door and put her face in her hands and took in a deep, long breath. It’s just, she said, very quietly. There was this one night. In high school. She got so drunk, and I found her on the roof, and she was saying all these things - and then Wonyoung cut herself off. Shook her head very quickly. It doesn’t matter, she said. I worry because I have a good reason to. I’ve seen what she’s capable of. 

4. Senior year you discovered Wonyoung was kind of weird about sex. You shouldn’t have ever known this. You wouldn’t have ever known this except that Wonyoung started hooking up with one of her TAs and subsequently began showing up with bruises everywhere: wrists and neck, inner thighs in her frilly skirts, ankles and thin forearms and knees. So one day you pulled her aside and said: Look, if anyone’s hurting you… But Wonyoung only stared at you blankly. Then nearly smiled. Oh, she said. No one’s doing anything to me that I didn’t beg for. Which was - fine. It was fine. Actually the thing that bothered you most about this was that Yujin was the same way. When you were dating her it had always kind of freaked you out, how hard she wanted to be hit. So one day you were talking with Yujin and Yujin made some crass joke about Wonyoung and her bruises and you just went: Why does she do it? Almost immediately Yujin replied: Because she hates herself. Obviously this shocked you. What? you said. Wonyoung? No. Why would you think that? And Yujin grinned at you with all her teeth and said: Take a wild guess.

5. Graduation, when Yujin wrapped her arms around you and Wonyoung and gave you both sloppy gross kisses on your cheeks and said: Not to be fucking disgusting right now, but you guys are going to be my best friends forever and ever and ever. You and Wonyoung groaned and complained: Yujin, ugh, that is fucking disgusting. Yeah, well, said Yujin, carefree and lovely, so high she’d never come down: Aren’t we all? And right then you met Wonyoung’s eyes and secretly thought the two of you would love An Yujin for the rest of your lives. 

6. Three years ago, on Wonyoung’s twenty-second birthday, when you got the call.

-

There’s this one conversation the three of you have, drunk at the top level of a parking garage: 

“How do you wanna go?” 

Yujin’s leaning over the railing, wind in her hair. You and Wonyoung are on either side of her and trying very hard not to stare. But it’s a beautiful night and she’s got her head tipped back to the night sky and she’s smiling, dimples and all. You and Wonyoung look for so long at her that you accidentally make eye contact, just past the slope of Yujin’s nose. Probably Wonyoung’s wasted, or you are, and you’re seeing things. Because for a second you swear she almost smiles at you. 

“Something painless,” Wonyoung says. It’s funny because she has a constellation of bruises on her collarbone right now, courtesy of her regular TA hook-up. You’ve never known her as a girl to shy away from pain. “Like - I just go to sleep and I never wake up. I don’t want to be afraid. That’d be the worst part.” 

You look back at the moon, full and high in the sky. Say: “I agree, actually.” 

“Ew,” says Wonyoung. She’s definitely smiling now; you can hear it in her voice. “Get your own way to die.” 

“I think,” Yujin says. She’s speaking very softly. When you turn to her you see her eyes are closed, like she’s somewhere else entirely. “I’d want it to be exciting. Theatrical.” You watch the swanlike line of that beautiful throat bare itself to the stars. “A blaze of glory. You know me.” 

“You have major issues,” says Wonyoung. But she’s laughing, and you’re so close to graduation and the endless golden possibility of the rest of your lives, and that one horrible night from junior year feels very far away. “Good luck with that blaze of glory.” 

“Baby, I’m not blazing alone,” says Yujin, seriously, which sends you and Wonyoung into hysterics. “You guys know I’m taking you two down with me, right? If I’m going, you’re going.”

You and Wonyoung switch from giggling to protesting heavily about this - come on, you two say, talking over each other, except Wonyoung’s too drunk to fake her little princess voice so she’s sort of steamrolling you entirely and you’re reaching around Yujin to shove her in the shoulder, unfortunately totally in sync, variations on the same playful complaint: Yujin, God, leave us out of your fucking drama. We love you, you know we do. But let us live. 

But then Yujin turns and breaks into a smile so stunning it brings both you and Wonyoung into complete silence. 

“Please,” says Yujin, airily. “Like you could ever live without me.” 

-

Three years ago, on Wonyoung’s twenty-second birthday, when you get the call:

“Hey,” you say. “What’s up? You never call me.”

But there’s a sudden and terrible unease creeping up your spine; a feeling like someone is breathing down the back of your neck. Because it’s true. Wonyoung never calls you. Unless it’s about-

“Yujin,” chokes out Wonyoung, in this horrible, sobbing gasp. “Yujin, she - she-“

She never gets the words out. But somehow you just know.

-

The day of the funeral-

You don’t want to talk about the funeral. 

-

Somehow the world doesn’t stop turning. Months pass, then years. You try to move on and be normal. You get a job. You make new friends. You try to date people. You want to be as honest as you can. But there’s not really a delicate way to say that the girl you loved hung herself from her ceiling fan when you were twenty-two. So mostly you just don’t talk about it at all. 

But it’s like an inevitability. Like they can all smell something tragic and wrong on you, taste the thick weight of grief in your mouth. Eventually all your girlfriends get skittish, suspicious. They don’t leave you. They want to figure you out. Going through your drawers, guessing at your passcode, scrolling through your texts. Confronting you at the end of the line: Who’s that girl in your camera roll, smiling at the lens? Who’s that girl you keep calling who never picks up the phone?

The truth always comes out, in the end. She was my favorite person in the world. She died. She’s gone. 

Even the aftermath is the same. The big shocked eyes. The: Oh, I’m so sorry. The polite, perfunctory condolences, drawing you into their arms. And then, later, to all their friends: Well, I think he might be too sad, too damaged; I catch him wandering in circles around the apartment like he’s looking for something he’s lost. He says her name in his sleep. He wakes up crying. He’s too much; he’s in no place to love or be loved, and might not be for a long, long time. Yeah, I guess he’s a good guy, real nice, real sweet, but I’m leaving him - some things are just too heavy for anyone to handle.

“I don’t know why you bother trying,” Wonyoung says. “No one will ever understand you anymore.”

It’s her twenty-fourth birthday. You’re sitting on the hood of your car, sharing a cigarette. You’re not holding hands so much as you’re holding her wrist in your lap, tracing the clasp of the charm bracelet Yujin gave her when they were fifteen. Yujin had a matching one, too. They’d buried her in it. At her funeral you’d stared transfixed at that glint of gold and remembered how it used to warm with the heat of her skin and how strange it was that if you touched it in that moment it would be just as cold as she was now, would be forever. You never once looked at her face. 

You thumb the twinkling charms of Wonyoung’s bracelet. You’ve seen other guys tug her around by this wrist hard enough to bruise. But you only lift her hand to your mouth and press a kiss to the soft pale center of her palm. 

“You will,” you say. “You do.”

-

A comprehensive list of people you have spoken to about the day An Yujin died:

1. The guy who lived next door to Yujin. He’d been the one to call the cops first, actually. All the noise had woken him up. The screaming, he said. Her friend, the one who found her - she just wouldn’t stop screaming.

2. Yujin’s parents. But only very briefly. They always liked Wonyoung more than you.

3. The old lady who saw you standing on the curb, staring up at Yujin’s bedroom window. She lived across the street. Apparently she’d lived there Yujin’s whole life. Well, she told you, sighing with a shake of her head. It’s a tragedy, certainly. But we knew that one wasn’t long for this world. She wasn’t all there. She was always very fragile. Very reckless. All those hospital stays. You know she tried to kill herself before? Parents called the police and everything; terrible racket at two AM. You know she got drunk and crashed her car into that tree in our front yard? We didn’t blame her. We thought: Oh, poor girl. Everyone knew she was troubled. Plus, our lawn looks much nicer without the tree. God, sweetheart, I’m sorry for bringing up the tree. You lost much more than a silly tree. That’s horrible. That’s heartbreaking. You loved her, didn’t you? You loved her?*

4. Wonyoung. For a long time you kept having this same conversation about that night. Just tell me, you were always saying, I don’t understand, you just saw her, you were just with her, how could this have happened? Wonyoung must have heard an accusation in there somewhere because one day she turned to you and said: I don’t know what you want me to say. She was already dead when I found her. I tried. I did everything I could. I had her skin underneath my fingernails. I begged to fucking God. I couldn’t save her.**

(*Right, you said, staring up at that dark window, that childhood bedroom, the last place to feel her breathe. Yujin’s whole life. Beginning to end. She’d never even make it to twenty-two. I loved her.)

(**Don’t look at me like that, Wonyoung said. You couldn’t have saved her either.)

-

The day of the funeral-

You and Wonyoung decide that you’re going to go together. So in the morning you show up at her place. 

Even now she’s inhumanly beautiful. Exquisite, really. Without makeup her doll eyes look wider than ever, underlined by bruiselike marks of exhaustion. She’s wearing this dress. Black, thin straps, clinging to her tiny waist, hanging past her knees. Her hair shines and cascades and never ends. For some reason you can’t stop looking at the sharp point of her left shoulder. Once someone had grown a bad habit of sinking their teeth into that shoulder, back in college. You never truly knew who. Only had a suspicion. Only saw the marks that lingered for days afterwards. The same little cuts reopened, over and over. You can’t believe she was left unscarred. You stare at her for a long while. 

When you look up to her face, she’s staring back at you. 

“Hey,” Wonyoung says, doll eyes gleaming with tears. 

For a moment it’s as though you share a brain, and maybe a body too, fitting yourselves into the same coffin, dirt in your eyes and mouths and noses and lungs, suffocating as one. Involuntarily in sync in your train of thought, the way you always have been. This is it. Things will never be okay ever again. It’s the end of the world and the only thing we ever loved on this whole miserable planet put a noose around her neck and abandoned us. It’s just you and me, now. You and me. 

“Hey,” you say. The link between you two as binding as it ever was. Or stronger, now that it’s the only thing that’s left. 

Maybe that’s why you end up in her bed. 

-

It’s terrible and torturous and hot and wet and messy and nowhere near as gentle as it should be. You fuck her like you’re trying to forget the ghost in the room, or maybe like you’re trying to summon her back to life, start the seance, make a spirit board out of her body. Hands sliding over her sharp ribs, concave stomach, pulling someone else’s postmortem from the sharp protrusion of bone. You sink your teeth into that perfect shoulder like you can taste whoever did it before you. Blood and sweat and soil over a grave. Indents of a phantom’s incisors. Wonyoung makes a horrible choked sound in the back of her throat. She pulls you off her shoulder, takes your hand, brings it up past her tummy and little tits and unbruised neck. Drags your palm over her face. Presses your thumb into her cheekbone. You dwarf her, you do. You could smother her. You could do something you can never take back. 

“Hit me,” Wonyoung rasps out. 

“No.” She’s dripping around your cock. “No.” 

“You want to. You - you blame me.” The words come out in fitful little gasps. Halting like the stutter of your hips and the wet pulse of her cunt, like she’s trying to push you out, like she’s trying to keep you inside her forever, to replace whatever’s gone missing, to fill an impossible void. “For not saving her.” She won’t break eye contact. She won’t blink. “You think - you - you think it was my fault.” 

“I don’t. I don’t.” 

“You’re right, you know. It was my fault.”

“Wonyoung, shut up, stop talking-” 

“Just hit me. I deserve it.” You can’t stand it. You can’t stand her. Big doll eyes and little doll mouth open and red and wet like a wound. “Hit me. Hit me, hit me, hit me-” 

You’re shaking when you wrench yourself out and away from her, lurching back, leaving her body there on the bed, teeth marks in her shoulder, slick down her thighs, heaving for air. You clutch your arms to your chest like a frightened child. You put your hands somewhere they could never hurt her. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you say. Your voice sounds strange. You don’t know when you started crying. “And I’d never hurt you.” 

She stares up at you with true and desperate hate in her expression, unmoving, dark hair spread out beneath her like a burial ground. So pale and brittle and cold and cadaverous. She could be the dead girl in the room, the eternal haunting. She could be the beautiful thing they’re about to bury in the dirt.

“You’re a fucking coward,” Wonyoung says. And then she begins to sob.

-

She puts her black dress back on and you get in the driver’s seat of your car. You go to the funeral together. You don’t speak. You stand all the way in the back and see Yujin in her casket and watch her parents fall apart. 

Wonyoung reaches out and takes your hand, and doesn’t let it go for a very long time.

-

A comprehensive list of everything that happened on the day An Yujin died:

1. Wonyoung and Yujin got into a fight. 

2. It was the summer after graduation and you had driven down to their hometown to go to their birthday party. It was just Wonyoung’s birthday, technically, but they always celebrated their birthdays together - they’d done it since they turned thirteen and fourteen, one right after the other. They used to show you pictures, their two little faces and one birthday cake, Yujin’s dimples and Wonyoung’s doll eyes all lit up by candles. Except this year, just before the party, they’d apparently gotten into this huge fight. No one knew what it was about, just that it was bad enough to make them spend their entire birthday party on opposite sides of the room, staunchly ignoring each other. A big deal. But you knew they’d be okay, obviously. You were their best friend and had seen more of them together than anyone at this party so you were confident being the voice of reason. They’ll be fine, you kept telling everyone. They’ll make up. They can’t stay mad at each other forever. You were certain of this because at some point during college you’d once caught Wonyoung stumbling out of her dorm on the verge of tears, wearing Yujin’s shirt with bite marks on her shoulder, Yujin shouting something taunting and catty and cruel after her, and you realized in that moment that Yujin had probably broken Wonyoung’s heart a million times over, much worse than she’d ever broken yours. Even then they were always okay. Always. Give it an hour. Give it a day. Look, come on, guys, you said, tomorrow is Yujin’s birthday. They’re always together. They’ll always be together. They’ll be alright. 

3. That night, as you were leaving the party, Wonyoung pulled you aside and said to you, quietly: We’ll fix it in the morning.

4. That night, as you were leaving the party, Yujin wrapped you in a hug and kissed your cheek sloppily and said: Ugh, get off of me, loser. Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t miss me too much. Well, maybe miss me a little. Oh, shut up. You love me. Bye. 

-

Now, three years to the day since the girl you both loved died:

It’s her twenty-fifth birthday, so Wonyoung smokes her cigarettes out the passenger side window of your car and lets you take her home. You talk about the messes you’ve made of your lives. You slip off her black dress and kiss her sharp shoulder. You’re real sweet to her, when you fuck her. So sweet that after you make her cum Wonyoung looks up at you with tears in her eyes and says: “I wish that you’d just hurt me.”

“I know,” you say, quietly. “But I won’t.”

And when she kisses you, you think she knows you meant it when you said you never will. 

-

In the morning, you pick up a cake and flowers and drive out to the cemetery.

Wonyoung leans down and kisses the headstone. “Happy birthday,” she whispers.

You sit in the grass by the grave and share thick slices of cake. Wonyoung takes large, gluttonous bites and spits each of them out into a napkin instead of swallowing. Your stomach curdles in revolt. You think of her cigarettes. You think that Jang Wonyoung is always kind of killing herself, a slow and excruciating descent into being the girl in the open casket with a golden bracelet that you’ll never be able to forget. You could say something poetic and poignant about this cemetery, about the agony of burying her body beside the girl you both loved, about not being able to lose her, too. You can’t leave me, you could tell her. You can’t go where she went. You’re my best friend. You’re my last safe place. I need you here with me. 

“That’s fucking disgusting,” you say, instead. 

Wonyoung smiles, shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, well,” she says, playing along. She remembers. She always remembers. There’s frosting on her chin. “Aren’t we all?”

You think of wiping the frosting off with your thumb. You think of doing a lot of things. You smile back at her and hope it’s enough. 

-

(One last significant memory, just for the road: 

It’s your sophomore year of college. You and Wonyoung are together at a party. You’re both mad at Yujin; you can’t remember why. But she’s in some guy’s lap on the couch and you and Wonyoung are both drunk and miserable in the corner and pretending not to stare at her. You’re ignoring each other, mostly. Except then there’s this moment where Wonyoung takes a step and stumbles in her stupid prim Mary Jane heels and you reach out and place a hand on her back to steady her. It’d be totally fine except for the fact that her shirt’s cropped and her hair’s up and your fingers graze bare skin, the notches in her spine. Electric and instantaneous. Wonyoung’s posture snaps impossibly straighter.

“Sorry,” you say. But Wonyoung puts a dainty finger to your elbow and keeps you there. 

“You and me,” she says. 

“What?”

Wonyoung turns to you. In her heels she almost matches you in height. She’s not looking at your face so much as your throat, studying the work of muscle as you swallow. You’re not looking at anything but the lip gloss on her mouth. 

“You and me,” she says, except this time you understand her entirely. “She’d lose it. Because she thinks we belong to her.” 

“Right,” you say. The obvious goes unsaid: We do belong to her. “Okay. So-” 

You don’t pull her close so much as you fall together, a clumsy chain reaction of movements. Your hands and that tiny waist. Her wrists draped around your neck. Bracelet pressed against your skin, an exact match to the one on the girl across the room, watching you. 

Wonyoung whispers, “Kiss me.” 

So you do. 

It’s a curious, tentative thing. Like it’s the first time either of you two have ever kissed anyone. Shy, awkward, careful, exploratory. Sweet. You never thought she’d be so sweet. Probably because you’ve spent the last year and a half with you two at each other’s throats half the time, you facing down her ice-princess voice and pout and perpetually rolling eyes. Near six feet tall and bulletproof, this one. Except now you’re cupping her little face in your hands and feeling her tremble against your mouth and she’s nothing like you thought she was. She’s just a girl. She’s just so small. Everyone who’d ever touched her has probably hurt her in one way or another, on purpose or by accident. Even - well. You won’t know this until later but Yujin will be furious about this, in that manic, vicious, smiling way of hers; she’ll take shots at you for weeks before she cools off. Say a lot of things about being left behind, used and disposed of. Oh, she’ll say, grinning and dimpled, voice serrated, I get it; you’re tired of me, bored of me. I’ll leave you two alone, then. Have fun. No, I understand: you guys don’t need me anymore. And you and Wonyoung will know she’s being unfair and immature and manipulative and reassure her anyway - that’s just what you do when you love somebody. An Yujin, you’ll tell her, over and over. You know we’ll always need you. 

But for now, there’s only this. Her lip gloss and your mouth. Perfume sweet like summer fruit. Fragile cheekbones beneath your thumbs that could shatter as easy as glass. 

Wonyoung pulls back, and says: “That was weird.” 

You don’t say a word. You stare at those big doll eyes. The breathless rise and fall of her chest. For the first and last time in your life, you think: I could love you, if you’d let me. 

“Extremely weird,” you say, after a long moment. 

She nods once, licks her lips, leaves your arms. And then you never talk about it again.)

-

Sprawled on the grass in the afternoon light, Wonyoung tells you she doesn’t need you to drive her back from the cemetery. “I’ll walk,” she says. “My place is close enough. And it’s a nice day.”

You stand. Across Yujin’s grave sits a vase of sunflowers, their faces all turned towards the sky. “You’ll be okay?” 

The sun shines so brightly that you have to shield your eyes as you look down at her. It’s the first day of September. Soon the turning leaves and the wind and the fog and the rain will creep in and steal what’s left of the summer. Everything changes, eventually; everyone leaves and dies and moves on. But for now the girl you thought you could never love sits in the sunlight with the ghost you thought you always would, just like they did when they were kids, twelve and thirteen, eighteen and nineteen, twenty-five and twenty-one forever. It’s sort of funny. Sometimes the link between you and Wonyoung feels less like handcuffs and more like a lifeline. Sometimes you can still hear Yujin’s voice saying: If I’m going, you’re going. But against all odds you’re still here. For however long it lasts. You’re here. 

Wonyoung smiles. “Probably not,” she says. “But I’ll live.” 

-

<3

[djwheks]

Ni hao fine shyt

[djwheks]

Can I request a yandere lesserafim x male reader smut please?????!!!!

ACROSS THE HALL (Yandere & Smut)

Yandere Le Sserafim OT5 x Male Reader

You never thought much about your neighbors—until they moved in.

Five girls, all beautiful in a way that didn’t feel real. Too elegant. Too perfect. Like they didn’t belong in a place like this—this dusty, aging apartment complex with its flickering hallway lights and leaking ceilings.

But they chose the unit across from yours. 9B.

At first, you just noticed the shoes lined up by their door. Then came the soft perfume that lingered in the hallway. Then the giggles. Late at night. Like whispers that crawled under your doorframe.

You didn’t meet them until the package incident.

You stepped out to grab your takeout. There was a box sitting outside your door. Not yours. Your name wasn’t even on it. Just…

“To Our New Neighbor ♥”

You hesitated. Then the door across the hall opened.

Kazuha stepped out first. Black tank top, hair pulled back, no bra. Just standing there like she knew what that did to people. Her smile was slow, teasing.

“Oh. You got our gift.”

“Gift…?”

She took a few slow steps toward you. "You’ve been peeking through the peephole, right? We figured you'd want a proper invitation."

Your mouth opened to deny it, but she reached up and pressed a finger to your lips.

“It’s okay. We like it when people watch.”

Behind her, the others filtered out like shadows from behind the door.

Yunjin with a lazy smirk, biting a cherry between her lips.

Sakura with her unreadable stare, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Chaewon standing dead center, eyes sharp, calculating.

And the youngest—Eunchae—just smiling far too wide, like she knew something you didn’t.

Yunjin leaned against the doorway. “You’ve lived here for two weeks and haven’t even said hi. Kinda rude.”

Sakura cocked her head. “We thought maybe you were shy. Or just avoiding us.”

"Or just guilty," Eunchae added, voice sing-song sweet. “You know… for all the things you do when you think no one’s watching.”

Your throat dried.

Chaewon crossed her arms. “Come in.”

“…Why?”

“Because if we have to ask again,” she said coldly, “we’ll drag you.”

The scent inside their apartment was dizzying. Something sweet, like incense, and something faintly metallic underneath.

The lights were low, the furniture too neat, and the windows all blacked out with thick curtains.

“Drink?” Yunjin asked, already handing you a glass.

You didn’t answer. She tilted it to your lips anyway.

“Don’t be rude.”

You drank.

“What is this…?” you muttered, heat already crawling up your spine.

“Just wine,” Sakura whispered behind you, brushing a hand along your back. “We like our guests a little relaxed.”

Chaewon stood in front of you, not blinking.

“Why’d you move here?”

“…Rent’s cheap.”

“You work from home,” Kazuha said softly, sitting beside you on the couch.

“You don’t go out much,” Eunchae added, sitting on your lap.

“You don’t have friends,” Sakura murmured, pulling off your hoodie like it was hers.

“You’re perfect,” Yunjin said with a grin.

The more you tried to pull away, the closer they got.

Kazuha never wore a bra when she visited you. She always leaned down too far to grab something, letting you glimpse her nipples through her shirt like it was an accident.

Yunjin texted you, despite never asking for your number. She sent voice notes at 2am.

"Thinking about you again. Want me to come over?"

Eunchae showed up at your door dripping wet in a towel.

“I locked myself out,” she said, pouting. “Can I wait inside yours?”

She left her panties on your couch when she left. Intentionally.

Sakura never spoke much. Just stared. Like she was carving every part of you into her memory.

And Chaewon? She was different. She never flirted. She didn’t smile. She just… watched. Controlled.

"You know," she said one night, standing behind you in the laundry room. "You're the only male tenant on this floor."

“…Yeah?”

She leaned in, voice against your ear.

“We picked this place because of that.”

It snapped the night they all came in without knocking.

The door slammed open. You were in bed, shirtless. Half-asleep.

“What the hell—?”

“Don’t yell,” Chaewon said. “We were worried.”

“You didn’t answer our texts,” Sakura said.

“Or your calls,” Yunjin added, already climbing onto the bed.

“I was sleeping,” you growled, sitting up.

“You don’t get to ignore us,” Eunchae said cheerfully, pulling the blanket off you. "Not after everything."

Kazuha sat beside you, lips brushing your jaw.

“We waited long enough.”

Their hands came fast. Yunjin on your chest, nails dragging. Sakura between your thighs, gripping you with terrifying confidence.

Kazuha kissed you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasped.

“Stop—what the f—”

Eunchae stuffed your mouth with her panties. “Shh.”

Chaewon straddled your face first. No pretense.

“You’re going to worship us.”

She pressed her soaked cunt to your lips, grinding slow, heavy. Her voice was breathy but cold.

“Lick like your life depends on it.”

Yunjin pumped your cock while whispering filth into your ear.

“Look at you—already so hard. Bet you’ve thought about us fucking you like this.”

Sakura licked your chest, teeth grazing your nipple, then biting—drawing a line of blood she licked up slowly.

“Messy boy.”

Eunchae straddled your stomach, grinning like a devil.

“I want to see how long you last.”

Kazuha took you inside her in one slow, deep stroke. No prep. Just raw, wet, perfect friction. She moaned, her body trembling.

“Oh god—he’s thick.”

She rode you slow, rotating her hips, clenching tight.

“You belong to us now,” she whispered.

“Let him finish,” Sakura said.

“No,” Chaewon snapped, still grinding on your tongue. “He finishes when I say.”

You bucked under them, helpless. Everything was wet. Lips, tongues, nails, sweat, perfume. You were drowning in their bodies, their voices, their obsession.

You came hard—Kazuha screaming, Eunchae watching like it was art.

And then…

Chaewon slapped you.

“You came without permission.”

You blinked, panting, heart racing.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

You woke up hours later—naked, tied to your bed.

The room reeked of sex. The sheets were soaked.

On your chest, written in red lipstick:

“You’re ours now. Don’t even think of running.”

Underneath it: a lipstick print from each of them.

The door was locked from the outside.

And you could still hear them giggling in the next room.

It had been four days since they locked you inside your apartment.

You hadn't seen the hallway.

You hadn’t touched your phone.

They took everything—your laptop, your keys, even your damn clothes.

You tried to fight the first day. Tried kicking the door, screaming. But the walls were too thick. No neighbors on this side. No one to hear.

They rotated shifts.

Kazuha in the morning. Sakura and Eunchae during the afternoon. Yunjin until night. And then Chaewon slept in your bed—next to you—chaining your ankle to hers.

You stopped struggling.

But your mind didn’t.

Kazuha — The “Lover”

Day 5. Morning.

You woke to the sound of soft humming. Your head was in someone’s lap. Kazuha’s.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

She stroked your hair, smiling like it was all normal. You tried to sit up. She pulled you back down.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “You need to rest. I made you breakfast.”

You stared at her. “Why… are you doing this?”

Kazuha blinked slowly, her smile dimming. “Because I love you. We all do.”

“I didn’t ask for this—!”

She grabbed your jaw hard.

“But you wanted it.”

She pulled her shirt off—no bra—and leaned over you. Her breasts grazed your face.

“You watched us. Fantasized. Touched yourself over and over again, thinking we didn’t know.”

She straddled your chest, grinding slowly.

“You let me ride you like a toy, didn’t you? You came so deep.”

She leaned closer, lips brushing your ear.

“So let me ride you again.”

Sakura & Eunchae — The “Twins”

Midday.

Sakura fed you by hand. Tiny spoonfuls of rice porridge. She didn’t blink.

“Open,” she said.

You did. What choice did you have?

Eunchae giggled from behind, brushing your hair like you were her doll.

“We cleaned you while you were asleep,” she said. “You looked so cute.”

You tensed.

Sakura tilted your chin. “You don’t want to be punished again, do you?”

You stayed still.

“I’ll kiss it better,” Eunchae whispered, hand sliding into your shorts. You bucked.

“No,” Sakura warned. “He finishes when I say.”

She stood up, unbuttoning her blouse. No bra. Her breasts perfect, pale, soft.

Eunchae pulled your shorts off, straddling one of your thighs.

“You’re hard again,” she whispered. “Good boy.”

Sakura sat on your face.

“Lick me like you did Chaewon. Better, or I’ll blindfold you for a week.”

Yunjin — The “Wife”

Nightfall.

Yunjin tucked you into bed.

You thought maybe she was the most normal. Until she climbed under the blanket naked and pressed her entire body against yours.

“You smell like them,” she whispered bitterly.

She started kissing down your chest, slower than anyone before her. Her voice trembled.

“Did they make you cum? Did you moan for them?”

You didn’t answer. She grabbed your cock suddenly, squeezing tight.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you choked.

She exhaled through her nose, furious.

“You’re mine at night. They had their turn.”

She pulled your wrists above your head and tied them with her panties. Climbed on top. Sank down on your cock with no prep, no warning.

You bit your lip to stop the noise. She slapped you.

“Don’t hold it in. I wanna hear you.”

Her hips were relentless, riding you like she was trying to erase their scent from your skin.

“You like this? Being owned? Being passed around like a fucktoy between girlfriends?”

She kissed you.

“You’re going to marry us.”

Chaewon — The “Mastermind”

Past midnight.

Chaewon sat beside you, wiping your chest with a warm towel. You were sore. Used. Broken.

She didn’t speak for a while.

Then:

“You didn’t run.”

“…I can’t.”

“No. You didn’t even try tonight.”

She set the towel down. Climbed into bed. Slid under the blanket. Naked.

She didn’t touch you.

She just wrapped your fingers in hers and whispered:

“That’s love.”

You tried to turn away.

She pulled you closer.

“You’ll never leave us,” she whispered.

Her lips brushed your ear.

“If you do… I’ll kill the others. And then myself. And you’ll be alone with their bodies.”

You froze.

Chaewon kissed your forehead and smiled gently.

“Good boy.”

You woke up collared.

A soft black leather one, with a silver ring in front.

No chain. Just the implication.

Yunjin took a photo of you half-asleep and naked, then showed it to the others.

They giggled, crowded around the phone.

Eunchae kissed your cheek.

“We’re gonna make an album.”

Sakura tied a ribbon around the collar.

Kazuha held your face in her hands.

“You’re never going outside again. Okay?”

You didn't answer.

Because somewhere deep down… you didn’t even want to anymore.