nr1chaedickrider - Tumblr blog

nr1chaedickrider · 16 days ago

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everybody wake up

Studying... or not

Joo Yeri x Woo Kyung

cw: thigh riding, dom/sub, nipple play, ear kissing? idk

wc: 5,053

find me on ao3 with the same handle!

Yeri’s dorm is too warm. Or maybe it’s just Kyung’s hoodie sticking to her skin as she stares blankly at the textbook in front of her, trying to ignore the fact that Yeri is upside down on the bed, legs hanging over the edge, humming some annoying pop song while spinning a pen between her fingers.

“You’re not even reading,” Kyung mutters, flipping another page and underlining something she’s already forgotten.

“I’m absorbing it through osmosis,” Yeri says, grinning from her upside-down view. “Let me be brilliant in peace.”

Kyung doesn’t answer. She just sighs and keeps reading, pen tapping against the paper in an uneven rhythm. She doesn’t know why she agreed to this. She studies better alone. Yeri is chaos incarnated.

But when Yeri suddenly rolls off the bed and flops down beside her on the floor, shoulder bumping Kyung’s, she doesn’t move away.

Yeri leans in, peering at her notes. “You always write so neatly. Bet your brain is alphabetized.”

Kyung snorts. “And yours is… what, a glitter bomb?”

Yeri gasps, mock-offended. “Excuse you, my brain is a curated playlist of brilliance.”

Their arms are touching now. Kyung pretends not to notice. But she can feel the heat of Yeri’s skin through the sleeve of her hoodie, and it’s getting harder to focus on the words in front of her.

“I’m trying to study,” she says flatly.

“I am studying,” Yeri replies, tilting her head so close Kyung can feel her breath on her cheek. “I’m studying you.”

Kyung’s pen slips. Just a little.

Yeri laughs under her breath, soft and satisfied.

And Kyung? She doesn’t smile. Not really. But the corner of her mouth twitches, and Yeri sees it.

Yeri won’t stop fidgeting.

First it’s a pencil poking Kyung’s arm. Then it’s a lazy foot nudging her knee. Then fingers tugging at the drawstrings of Kyung’s hoodie.

“Stop,” Kyung warns, not even looking up from her notes.

Yeri grins. “Make me.”

Kyung grits her teeth. She’s going to snap. She knows it, and worse, Yeri knows it. The girl thrives off poking at her calm like it’s some kind of game.

So when Yeri reaches out and pulls the hood over Kyung’s head with a smug little, “Cute,” that’s it.

Kyung drops her pen. “That’s it,” she mutters, standing up so fast her chair squeaks across the floor.

Yeri blinks up at her, still seated on the edge of the bed. “Uh-oh,” she says with a smile, like she’s thrilled to be in danger.

Kyung storms over, meaning to scold, maybe shove her playfully, maybe just do something, but Yeri’s hand catches her wrist mid-step, tugs-

-and Kyung stumbles forward, off-balance, and lands with a thud straight into Yeri’s lap.

Silence.

Both of them freeze.

Yeri’s hands are on Kyung’s waist. Kyung’s palms are braced against Yeri’s thighs. Her breath catches.

Yeri’s voice comes low, breath brushing against her ear. “Guess you’re the one who made me sit still after all.”

Kyung should get up. Should scowl. Should say something sharp.

But she doesn’t.

She just sits there, heart pounding, jaw tight, refusing to meet Yeri’s eyes.

Yeri hums, fingers smoothing over the hem of Kyung’s hoodie like she has every right. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” Yeri says, absolutely delighted. “You look like you might pass out.”

Kyung narrows her eyes. “You’re so-”

“What?” Yeri leans in. “Irresistible?”

And Kyung, grumpy, guarded, completely undone, whispers, “Insufferable,” right before grabbing the front of Yeri’s shirt and kissing her hard.

And just like that, Yeri stops teasing.

Because now she’s the one breathless.

It’s instant. Immediate.

Her fingers curl tighter in Yeri’s shirt like she needs something to hold on to. Yeri’s hands roam deliberately, slow and steady, settling at Kyung’s hips. She doesn’t guide, she anchors.

And Kyung… sinks.

She lets out a soft, involuntary sound against Yeri’s mouth, something breathy and broken, and that’s when it shifts.

Yeri pulls back just slightly, lips brushing Kyung’s jaw, her voice low and dangerous:

“Was that a whimper?”

Kyung stiffens. Her eyes snap open. “Shut up.”

But it’s too late. Yeri’s grinning, all teeth and thrill.

“Oh my god. Kyung. You’re actually-”

“I said shut up.”

Yeri licks her lips, leans in again, whispers right against her ear:

“Make me.”

Kyung shudders.

She doesn’t push Yeri away. She doesn't even try. She just hides her face in the crook of Yeri’s neck, too flustered to say anything, trying to breathe through it.

Yeri wraps both arms around her, smug as hell. “You get all quiet when you’re turned on. It’s so cute.”

“Yeri-ah-”

“And those little sounds you make?” Yeri’s fingers trace small circles against the small of her back. “God, you’re so easy to ruin.”

Kyung lets out another soft, shaky breath, almost a whine this time, and Yeri just laughs, low and pleased, tilting Kyung’s chin up for another kiss.

This one’s slower. Crueler. And Kyung’s still trembling when it ends.

She leans her forehead against Yeri’s. “I hate you.”

Yeri smirks. “You really, really don’t.”

Time slips. They don’t mean for it to go this far, but Yeri never really means to cross the line. She just gets close enough that Kyung forgets where it is.

The makeout turned lingering touches. Then slower. Then deeper. Kyung straddling Yeri’s lap, breathing harder, skin hot beneath too many layers. And Yeri never once takes the lead with force, she just waits.

Waits for Kyung to start tugging her own hoodie up. Waits while she hesitates at the hem of her shirt.

“Go ahead,” Yeri says softly, like it’s nothing. “You’re already halfway gone.”

And Kyung, flushed, flustered, trembling, lets it fall away.

Piece by piece. Every layer stripped not by hands but by suggestion, by heat, by the way Yeri’s eyes drag slow and heavy across her. By the way Yeri never even tries to undress herself.

By the time Kyung realizes she’s completely bare, sitting in Yeri’s lap, exposed and breathing too hard, Yeri hasn’t moved an inch.

Fully clothed. Perfectly composed.

Kyung bites her lip, arms instinctively curling around her chest. “This is unfair.”

Yeri tilts her head. “You could’ve stopped.”

Kyung doesn’t answer.

Yeri’s hand traces a line from her hip up to her ribs, barely touching. “Still so shy like this?” she whispers. “After the way you kissed me?”

Kyung lets out a tiny, broken sound. She hates that it comes out. Hates even more how Yeri smiles at it.

Yeri leans forward, lips brushing just under her jaw.

“You like this, don’t you?” she whispers. “Sitting here like this. Letting me look at you, touch you, while I don’t even lift a finger to undress.”

Kyung doesn’t speak. She can’t. Her fingers tighten in Yeri’s shirt, desperate and unsure.

“You want to disappear,” Yeri breathes, lips brushing her ear now. “But your body’s telling the truth.”

Kyung lets out a soft, choked breath and hides her face in Yeri’s neck again, just like before. But this time, she doesn’t ask her to stop.

And Yeri? She still hasn’t taken off a single thing.

Kyung’s breath trembles against Yeri’s neck, her skin warm and bare, arms clutching Yeri’s shirt like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

Yeri holds her steady, one hand firm on Kyung’s waist, the other trailing up her back with a gentleness that makes it worse. Like she’s not just touching Kyung, she’s memorizing her.

“You’re shaking,” Yeri whispers, voice dipped in something almost reverent.

Kyung doesn’t answer. She can’t. Her body is pressed so close, too exposed, too aware of every point where they touch.

Yeri leans in, presses a soft kiss just below her ear. Then another, lower, just a breath away from her jaw. Her lips are warm and slow, leaving wet kisses that linger too long, as if she’s writing words against her skin that only Kyung can feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs against her neck. “You don’t even know, do you?”

Kyung’s breath hitches again. Her fingers curl tighter in Yeri’s shirt, her body arching ever so slightly toward the next kiss.

Yeri’s mouth finds her throat, lips open, kisses wetter now, more deliberate. She drags them across her neck, leaving trails of warmth that make Kyung shiver and press closer.

“You should see what I see when you’re like this,” Yeri continues, voice low and tender between kisses. “Breathless. Soft. Desperate.”

Kyung lets out a sound, quiet, half a whimper, and it only makes Yeri smile against her skin.

She kisses beneath her ear next, slow and damp, and whispers right into it:

“Tell me you want more.”

Kyung doesn’t say it.

But the way she tilts her head, bares her neck further, and presses even closer?

It’s answer enough.

Yeri pulls back just enough to look at her, Kyung, flushed and bare in her lap, trying so hard to hold herself together and failing miserably.

Her bangs are sticking slightly to her temple from heat. Her lips are parted, breath shallow. Her arms are still wrapped tightly around Yeri’s shirt, like if she lets go, she might fall apart completely.

Yeri brushes a few strands of hair behind Kyung’s ear, soft and slow.

“You’re so responsive,” she murmurs, watching the way Kyung’s eyes flutter at the touch.

Then she leans in again, closer than before, her lips brushing the shell of Kyung’s ear, barely a whisper of contact.

Kyung’s entire body jolts.

Yeri grins. “Thought so.”

She kisses it. Soft at first. A warm press to the edge, the curve. Then wetter, open-mouthed, slow, dragging her tongue lightly along the sensitive skin before closing her lips around the lobe and sucking gently.

Kyung makes a sound, half gasp, half moan, and buries her face in Yeri’s shoulder, shoulders trembling.

“There it is,” Yeri breathes, her voice dripping satisfaction. “Your ears give you away every time.”

She keeps going, kissing beneath the ear now, then back up, breathing against it deliberately. Her fingers slide up Kyung’s spine to cup the back of her neck, holding her steady while she kisses along the upper curve, all slow and soaking.

Kyung is trembling in her lap now, breath hot and uneven. Her thighs shift slightly where she’s straddling her, and Yeri doesn’t miss the movement.

“Sensitive everywhere, huh?” she whispers into the shell of her ear before licking it, slow and deliberate.

Kyung lets out a soft, helpless noise she probably didn’t mean to make. Her nails dig lightly into Yeri’s shoulder. It’s not resistance. It’s surrender.

Yeri’s smile turns smug again. She bites the edge of her ear, barely enough to hurt.

“Do you even know how pretty you sound?”

Kyung shakes her head against her shoulder, trying to hide.

Yeri kisses her temple next. Gentle. Adoring.

“You don’t have to,” she murmurs. “I’ll remind you.”

Kyung doesn’t even realize she’s doing it at first.

Her body moves on instinct, hips rolling in slow, needy circles against Yeri’s lap, trying to ease the pressure that’s been building and burning since the second Yeri’s mouth found her ear.

Her breathing’s ragged now. She’s flushed to the tips of her ears, arms trembling where they cling to Yeri’s shoulders. Every shift of friction only makes it worse. She presses down harder, desperate for something, anything to relieve the ache coiling low in her stomach.

Yeri exhales slowly, hands still firm at her hips, eyes heavy-lidded and locked on Kyung’s face.

“You’re grinding on me,” she says softly, almost like she’s surprised.

Kyung nods against her shoulder, ashamed and too far gone to care. “I-I can’t…”

“You can,” Yeri whispers, guiding her hips just enough to keep her moving. “You are.”

Kyung whimpers, the sound catching in her throat.

But just when she starts to find a rhythm, when her eyes flutter shut and her hips roll a little harder, Yeri stops her.

Her hands tighten at Kyung’s waist, holding her still.

Kyung gasps, pushing against her, trying to move again, but Yeri doesn’t let her.

“Not yet.”

Kyung shudders. “Please-”

Yeri leans in close again, lips brushing her ear. “You want it too fast.”

“I c-can’t take it,” Kyung breathes out, her voice wrecked.

Yeri’s tongue flicks at her earlobe. “You will.”

She loosens her grip just enough to let Kyung grind again, but slower now. Shallower. Not enough. Never enough.

And Kyung takes it. Moaning softly, hips trembling as she chases what Yeri keeps just out of reach.

“You’re so good for me,” Yeri whispers against her jaw. “So desperate. So pretty when you suffer.”

Kyung lets out a soft, broken cry, and Yeri just kisses her cheek sweetly.

“Keep going,” she murmurs. “But don’t come. Not until I say.”

Kyung’s rhythm falters again as Yeri’s hands trail upward, slow and deliberate, from her waist to the soft curve of her ribs. She pauses there, just resting her palms beneath Kyung’s chest, waiting.

Kyung tenses.

Yeri looks up at her, eyes dark and warm.

“You okay?”

Kyung nods, barely.

“Say it,” Yeri murmurs, her thumbs brushing the underside of bare skin.

“I… I’m okay,” Kyung whispers, her voice cracking around the edges.

Yeri smiles. “Good girl.”

Then her hands rise, fingers grazing over Kyung’s breasts, thumbs teasing across sensitive skin, just barely brushing her nipples. Kyung sucks in a sharp breath, back arching instinctively into the touch.

Yeri hums. “So sensitive…”

She circles her thumbs again, slower this time, watching the way Kyung’s breath stutters and her lashes flutter. Kyung bites her lip, trying to stay quiet, but she gasps when Yeri pinches gently, rolling the soft peaks between her fingers.

Kyung shivers. “Y-Yeri-”

“Too much?” Yeri whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss over her heart.

Kyung shakes her head, she’s trembling, flushed, completely undone, but she doesn’t want it to stop. Not even a little.

Yeri pulls one hand away, letting it slide down Kyung’s back, while the other keeps teasing, slow and steady.

“You feel everything, don’t you?” she whispers. “Every touch. Every kiss. Like your body was made to be worshipped.”

Kyung moans, quiet, shaky, and leans into her, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut.

Yeri leans up, brushing her mouth against Kyung’s, not quite a kiss yet.

“You’re beautiful like this,” she breathes. “Falling apart. Just for me.”

And Kyung?

She doesn’t speak.

She just nods, bare, trembling, and aching, completely at Yeri’s mercy.

Yeri’s hand slides down Kyung’s back again, slow, reassuring, possessive. The other keeps teasing at her chest, fingertips light and unrelenting until Kyung can barely sit upright, her forehead pressed to Yeri’s shoulder, lips parted with shaky gasps.

She’s trembling now. Her hips have started to move again, instinctively seeking friction, rubbing herself against the curve of Yeri’s thigh, frustrated, unsteady.

Yeri leans in close, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You’re holding back.”

Kyung whimpers. “I-I’m trying-”

“Don’t,” Yeri whispers. “Don’t try. Just feel.”

Her hand drifts down again, palm sliding over Kyung’s bare hip, then lower, until it rests gently at her thigh. She squeezes once, then guides her down.

“Press,” Yeri breathes. “Right here.”

Kyung obeys, hips shifting, thighs spreading a little wider as she presses down harder against Yeri’s leg. Her breath stutters. A moan slips out before she can stop it.

“There it is,” Yeri whispers. “Just like that.”

Kyung grinds again, slow, desperate, riding the tension that’s been choking her for too long. Every movement sends sparks up her spine. Every time she shifts, Yeri’s hands anchor her, one on her thigh, the other cupping her breast, rolling her nipple between careful fingers.

“You’re so wet for me,” Yeri murmurs, voice like silk. “So desperate. You need this, don’t you?”

Kyung nods. She can’t lie. Not like this.

Her head falls back, body arching, chasing friction and pressure and release, but Yeri’s grip tightens again, just enough to make her slow down.

“Not too fast,” Yeri warns gently. “Feel everything. Don’t rush through me.”

Kyung sobs out a breath, helpless and wrecked, her voice breaking with every movement. Her body is burning, shaking, ruined from nothing but lips and words and the steady pulse of Yeri’s thigh between her legs.

“Take what you need, Kyung,” Yeri whispers, kissing her cheek. “But don’t forget who’s giving it to you.”

And Kyung?

She’s gone.

Completely, hopelessly gone, her body grinding slow, her mind hazy, her whole world narrowed down to the girl beneath her and the fire building deep in her core.

Kyung doesn't even realize it’s happening until it's already too late.

Her rhythm breaks, hips stuttering and pressing down with desperate force. She gasps, loud and raw, clutching Yeri’s shoulders like she's drowning, eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open around a whimper that sounds too broken to be real.

And then she comes, sharp and hard, grinding into Yeri’s thigh like she’s unraveling from the inside out. Her whole body shudders, back arching, every nerve alight. It hits her in waves, overwhelming and unrelenting, until all she can do is cling and breathe and shake through it.

Yeri doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. Just watches her come apart, smirking softly, hands steady at her hips, eyes full of pride and power and something terrifyingly gentle.

When it’s over, Kyung collapses into her, chest heaving, skin flushed and damp, still trembling. Her head drops to Yeri’s shoulder, lips parted, breath hot against fabric.

Yeri strokes her hair once. Slowly.

Then she shifts her thigh, slick with Kyung’s release, and lets the wetness catch the light.

She tsks softly. “Made such a mess.”

Kyung doesn’t respond. She’s too gone. Too dazed. Too soft.

Yeri leans in, lips brushing her ear.

“Good girls clean up their messes, baby.”

Kyung stirs, barely. She lifts her head, eyes glazed, lips trembling.

Yeri takes her by the chin. “Be a good girl.”

Kyung slides down, onto her knees between Yeri’s legs, and lowers her mouth to the soaked fabric of her own sin. Hesitant at first. Then obedient.

Her tongue drags slow and warm over Yeri’s thigh, collecting what’s left of her own release, cheeks burning, breath shallow. Yeri watches with her hands buried in Kyung’s hair, sighing softly like she’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“That’s it,” she murmurs. “Sweet, messy thing.”

Kyung closes her eyes as she licks again. And again.

And Yeri smiles, tilting her head.

“Look at you,” she whispers.

“Falling apart, just to be mine.”

Kyung’s still on her knees.

Face flushed, lips wet, hair clinging to her cheek in soft, damp strands. Her eyes are unfocused, half-lidded, and glassy like she’s somewhere far away, floating in the aftermath of everything Yeri gave and everything she took.

Yeri brushes her thumb gently along Kyung’s lower lip, smearing the last traces of slick she hadn’t licked clean. Kyung shivers at the touch, exhausted, pliant.

“Open,” Yeri says softly.

Kyung doesn’t hesitate.

Her lips part slowly, eyes flicking up in silent submission as Yeri presses her thumb into her mouth, slow and deep, dragging it over her tongue.

Kyung sucks.

Her cheeks hollow slightly, tongue moving without thought, without shame. And Yeri watches, dark eyes locked onto her with something reverent and dangerous.

“There you go,” she whispers. “Just like that. So sweet when you’ve got something to hold on to.”

Kyung closes her eyes again, her lashes fluttering, mouth still working around Yeri’s thumb like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

Yeri strokes her jaw with her other hand, thumb resting heavy on her tongue.

“Filthy little thing,” she murmurs, voice like velvet. “But look at you now. All soft. All mine.”

Kyung whimpers around the thumb in her mouth, completely gone, completely surrendered.

And Yeri?

She smiles like she just won the whole world.

Kyung’s lips are still wrapped around Yeri’s thumb, her body trembling, her breath warm and uneven as she sucks without thought. She’s gone, mind fuzzy, eyes half-lidded, resting her cheek against Yeri’s knee like it’s the only thing tethering her to the ground.

And Yeri?

Yeri watches her with slow, deliberate pleasure.

She pushes her thumb in deeper, past Kyung’s tongue, toward the back of her throat.

Kyung flinches, a soft gag catching in her chest, but she doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even try.

Yeri strokes her cheek. “That’s it, baby. You’ll take what I give you, right?”

Kyung nods, mouth still full, moaning quietly around the intrusion.

Yeri pulls her thumb out slowly, watching the string of saliva stretch and snap as it leaves Kyung’s lips. Then she drags it across her cheek, down over her chin, smearing it gently like she’s painting with it.

“Look at you,” Yeri whispers. “All wet and needy and still begging for more.”

Kyung whines softly, thighs shifting, her knees aching on the floor, but she doesn’t move away. Her lips part again automatically, eyes wide, waiting.

Yeri smiles darkly.

“Since you’re so good with your mouth,” she murmurs, trailing her spit-slick thumb downward, over Kyung’s neck, between her breasts, over her soft, exposed stomach,

“Let’s see if you can make a mess twice for me.”

Her thumb slips lower, between Kyung’s legs, where she’s already sticky and sensitive from everything before.

Kyung chokes on a moan, her body jerking forward. “Y-Yeri-!”

“Shhh,” Yeri coos, pressing down gently. “Be still.”

She starts to rub, slow and steady, thumb teasing over her, not hard enough to satisfy, but just enough to make Kyung lose her mind all over again.

“Don’t come,” Yeri says softly, her mouth close to her ear again. “Not yet.”

Kyung gasps, body quivering, lips parted and wet, saliva on her chin, her thighs spreading wider in offering. She’s broken. Gone. Completely at Yeri’s mercy.

And Yeri?

She kisses her temple sweetly and says,

“Beg for me, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

You really said ruin her completely, huh?

Kyung’s body is shaking again, hips grinding helplessly into Yeri’s hand, every nerve raw, her moans slipping past bitten lips. She’s close. Too close. Her muscles tense like they’re begging for release, but Yeri keeps her there, hovering, twitching, on the edge.

Kyung’s mouth is open, breath ragged, soft gasps spilling out like prayers she doesn’t know how to finish.

Yeri tilts her head.

“You need something in your mouth again, don’t you?”

Kyung nods, quick and desperate.

“Use your words.”

“Please,” Kyung gasps. “I need- Yeri, please-”

Yeri slips two fingers into her mouth before she can finish the sentence.

Kyung moans around them instantly, grateful, overwhelmed, drooling. Her lips stretch around the intrusion, eyes fluttering shut as she sucks greedily, almost frantically, her thighs shaking where they spread across Yeri’s lap.

Yeri watches her with soft awe, like she’s witnessing something sacred.

“You’re so good like this,” she whispers. “So pretty when you can’t even speak.”

Kyung whimpers around her fingers. She starts to rock harder, desperate and wrecked, every thrust of her hips trembling with the pressure building inside her.

Yeri leans in close, lips against her temple.

“Come for me,” she breathes. “With my fingers in your throat. Let me feel you fall apart.”

And Kyung does.

She chokes on the moan as her orgasm rips through her, intense, blinding, her body convulsing around Yeri’s hand while her mouth stays full, drooling and gagging on her fingers, eyes rolled back in bliss.

She sobs against her, soundless and messy, her whole body shaking as she comes so hard it nearly folds her in half.

Yeri just holds her through it, fingers still in her mouth, other hand still between her thighs, lips murmuring soft praise into her hair.

“You did so well,” she says gently. “So fucking beautiful when you give in.”

Kyung collapses forward, barely conscious, still sucking weakly on Yeri’s fingers like she doesn’t know how to stop.

And Yeri?

She kisses her forehead, wipes her tears, and smiles.

“All mine now,” she whispers. “Aren’t you, baby?”

Kyung nods. Barely. Wrecked and glowing.

“Yours.”

Kyung’s body is still trembling, bare, flushed, completely spent. Her face is pressed into Yeri’s neck, her breathing soft and uneven, little whimpers escaping her lips like her body’s still trying to come down from the high.

Yeri wraps her arms around her tighter. No games. No words.

Just warmth.

She shifts carefully, guiding Kyung into her lap again, not for control this time, but comfort. Her fingers stroke through Kyung’s sweat-damp hair, slow and soothing, as she kisses the top of her head.

“You’re okay,” Yeri whispers. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Kyung doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to.

She just melts into her, small and quiet, her hands gripping the fabric of Yeri’s shirt like she still needs something to hold on to.

Yeri keeps whispering soft things as she rocks her slightly, heart beating steady beneath Kyung’s cheek.

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

“You were so good for me.”

“I’m right here.”

After a while, she reaches over to grab a blanket, wrapping it around Kyung’s shoulders like a soft shield. Her other hand gently cleans the mess from her thighs with the edge of her sleeve, gentle, unhurried, like touching something delicate.

Kyung finally lifts her head, eyes glassy and half-lidded.

Yeri cups her face. “Hey,” she murmurs. “Come back to me.”

Kyung blinks slowly, dazed. “I… I’m here.”

Yeri smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips, barely there, featherlight.

“I know. You did so well.”

Kyung lays her head back down against her chest, and Yeri doesn’t let go. She just holds her. Fingers in her hair. Lips on her temple. Arms around her like a promise.

No teasing. No power play. Just love in the quiet.

“I’ve got you now,” she whispers again.

They stay like that for a long time, wrapped in the quiet, Yeri holding Kyung like she’s something sacred. Her breathing’s slowed, body no longer trembling, just soft and warm and utterly still.

Yeri brushes her fingers over the back of Kyung’s neck, then down her spine.

But eventually, she whispers gently:

“Kyungie…”

Kyung hums in response, not moving.

Yeri kisses the side of her head. “We need to get you cleaned up, baby.”

Kyung lets out a soft, sleepy whine, shaking her head into Yeri’s shoulder. “Nooo…”

“I know,” Yeri murmurs, smiling against her skin. “But I don’t want you falling asleep like this. You’ll feel gross.”

“I don’t care,” Kyung mumbles. But she doesn’t pull away when Yeri shifts beneath her.

Yeri nudges her gently. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

Kyung slowly lifts her head, face flushed and eyes dazed. She looks so small like this, so completely undone. Yeri cups her cheek and kisses her, slow and sweet.

“I’ll run the water,” she says, brushing her thumb along Kyung’s jaw. “Just sit for a second. I’ve got you.”

Kyung nods, barely. She doesn’t argue again.

Yeri stands and gently wraps the blanket tighter around her, like she’s guarding something delicate. Then she disappears into the bathroom, and soon the sound of running water echoes softly through the dorm.

When she comes back, she kneels in front of Kyung and offers her hands.

“Ready?”

Kyung looks at her like she’s everything.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “If you’re with me.”

Yeri smiles, soft and real. “Always.”

Yeri helps Kyung up slowly, her hands gentle but firm, guiding her toward the bathroom where the soft rush of water fills the air. Kyung’s body feels weak, exhausted, but still craving something, someone. She’s quiet, but Yeri knows exactly what she needs.

“I’ll be right there with you,” Yeri says softly, smiling reassuringly as she pulls off her own shirt, then her pants, standing in just her underwear. She’s still fully in control, but the look in her eyes is soft, all tenderness now.

She helps Kyung step into the shower, letting the warm water hit them both, the steam fogging up the glass. Kyung leans into her immediately, her skin still soft with the heat of their shared silence, her body needing the reassurance of Yeri’s touch.

Yeri gently washes her, hands slow and soft as she runs the soap over Kyung’s tired skin. She lathers it up and rinses it away, kissing her cheek here and there, quiet little pecks, as if she can’t get enough of her. She makes sure to wash every part of her, lingering when needed, loving the softness of Kyung’s body, the way it’s all still hers in that moment.

Kyung’s eyes are half-lidded, but her lips curl into a sleepy smile, even as she shivers under Yeri’s hands.

“You’re so careful with me,” Kyung murmurs. “I don’t want to forget this.”

Yeri tilts Kyung’s chin up, kissing her lips softly, more tenderly than before. “I’ll never let you forget. I’ll always take care of you.”

Once Kyung’s fully cleaned, Yeri leans in close, her chest pressing gently to Kyung’s, body warm and familiar. She takes her time drying her off, gently patting her skin with the towel, before guiding her toward the bed.

Kyung doesn’t want to feel distant, not anymore. She’s already too far gone. When Yeri pulls the blanket back and settles in, Kyung turns to her, eyes heavy but filled with trust.

“I want to sleep naked,” Kyung whispers, a little embarrassed, but completely sure of what she needs. “I want to feel close to you. All of me. All of you.”

Yeri looks at her for a long moment, her gaze soft, understanding, and then nods. She undresses completely, making sure to keep Kyung’s attention on her, allowing Kyung to see her in the same way she’s been seen.

Yeri pulls the covers up around them, settling in, and Kyung’s body presses against hers, skin to skin, like nothing could ever separate them again. They both breathe in the same rhythm, quiet, slow.

Yeri wraps her arm around Kyung’s waist, holding her closer than ever.

“Nothing’s going to pull us apart,” Yeri murmurs softly. “Not now, not ever.”

Kyung lets herself close her eyes, her breath steady against Yeri’s chest.

“I love you,” she whispers, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Yeri smiles, her lips kissing the top of Kyung’s head. “I love you, too, Kyungie. Always.”

And they drift into a peaceful sleep together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, both knowing that this quiet, tender moment is theirs forever.

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