#Of calling her a cougar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kesujo · 3 months

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Obsessed

“Yo, you never told me you got a girl!”

“What are you—give that back! Who said you could look at my messages?”

“No no no, first explain this: ‘did you eat yet?’, ‘are you coming home late today?’, ‘who was that girl you were eating with?’—” You snatch the phone out of your friend’s hands, but he still recites the last message to you, “‘I’m sorry I couldn’t see you today. I miss you~’—”

Your heart skips a beat. “That’s—my aunt.”

“Yeah right—”

“She’s just been concerned for me after hearing that I moved out of my parents’ house recently.”

“…Is your relative a stalker?”

It’s a bad excuse and you know it, but that’s all you are willing to give your friend. After all, there is no way he will be more willing to accept the truth. Hell, you aren’t even sure you are more willing to accept the truth to even the flimsy, half-assed explanation you just provided him.

“You got a real cougar of an aunt.”

“No, she’s—” trying to conceal the actual message sender as your aunt is probably a futile effort, especially with that last message, but telling Beomgyu the truth is absolutely out of the question. “—she’s just worried for me.”

Your friend rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Not my problem if you’re not ready to reveal your relationship to even your best friend yet.”

“You know what, you’re free to believe whatever you wanna believe. I don’t care enough to try to change your mind.” That’s only partially true. What matters isn’t that Beomgyu thinks you have a girlfriend, but if he knows the identity of the girl in question. It’s a good thing you had the foresight to save her number with an innocuous name.

“You aren’t seriously going to tell me that you’re close enough to your aunt that you just call her ‘Ji’, do you?” Ok, maybe the name isn’t that innocuous.

“I was in a rush, ok? Plus, it doesn’t even matter what I save the names as, all that matters is I know who the number is.”

“Wait, what do you have me saved as?”

“‘Beom’.”

“Hmm…”

Beomgyu only pesters you half of the remaining meal, thankfully not catching the occasional glancing around of the restaurant you did. Maybe it’s paranoid of you, especially since it’s a normal weekday evening in a relatively crowded place, but you want to be on your toes at all times.

“Hey, you’re coming golfing with us next week, right?”

“We’ll see.”

“Date with your girl?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not a date with ‘my girl’. I’ll just have to see if I wanna go on the day.”

“Right.” The two of you stop at the intersection. “Well, have fun on your date.”

“It’s not a—” seeing the smirk on Beomgyu’s face makes you sigh. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll have fun on my ‘date’.”

Not a few steps after you separate from him, an all-too-familiar voice whispers into your ear, “You’re going on a date?”

You try not to jump out of your skin as she wraps her arm around yours while seamlessly falling in perfect step with you. The playful manner in which she leans against you is sharply juxtaposed by the sharp, very pointedly upset tone she asked the question with.

You knew you weren’t paranoid to suspect she was nearby. But … where was she? You swear you did a pretty thorough visual sweep of the restaurant without landing on anyone who even remotely resembled her. Unless … did she wait outside the restaurant?

“No, I’m not—”

“Hey, kiss me first, or else people will get suspicious.”

“No, they won’t—” don’t get flustered, don’t get flustered, “—what are you talking about?”

You turn an exasperated expression towards Yu Jimin, who is shooting you a playful grin. However, as exasperated as you sound, your heart is beating a million times a minute. This isn’t even your first, or even tenth, encounter with her, but every single one is still as nerve-wracking as the last. “You never know.”

“I think I do, from the fact that you still somehow haven’t been exposed as an avid stalker of mine.”

“Never mind that,” In an instant, her expression changes, the playful grin disappearing from her face, “what about this date Beomgyu was talking about?” The duality of the two expressions makes your heart beat even faster, although this time for a slightly different reason.

“There’s no—” Have you ever introduced Beomgyu to Karina? Hell, have you ever even mentioned Beomgyu to her? “—date…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then…” Suddenly, her voice turns bashful. She slows down a bit, forcing you to do the same. “…do you want one?”

This is way too ridiculous. Truth is stranger than fiction, so they said. You don’t know who this ‘they’ character is, but you can’t agree more with that seemingly absurd statement.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make myself free.”

“Don’t go pushing back another photoshoot or choreography practice for this.”

“…But it was definitely worth it…”

You scoff. “How?”

“Well, I got this picture of you!”

You look over and down at her phone to see what seemed like a perfectly normal picture of you standing between a few bookshelves at your local library looking down at the book in your hands. “That’s … it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?!” You jump at the sudden peaking of her voice, hurriedly looking around to make sure she hadn’t drawn any more attention than she needed to before turning back to her. “Look at how hot you look when you’re serious!”

You have absolutely no idea what Karina sees in you. As far as you’re concerned, you’re a perfectly normal guy. You aren’t even particularly good-looking, having only ever been in one relationship that lasted only the last year of high school. You’ve asked her before, and she said something about you ‘being her white knight in shining armor’ and how you had saved her in a ‘manga-like way’, but honestly, you have no recollection of such an event.

“Right…”

“I used this picture for at least two weeks straight.”

“You ‘used’…?” It doesn’t mean what you think it means. To save your own heart, you have to believe that. Otherwise… “By the way, you aren’t going to be following me all the way home, are you?” You pose the question already expecting an answer, so when she decides instead to remain quiet, you turn to her and follow up with, “…Are you?”

“…Can’t I?”

“What?” Breathe. Don’t panic. Be logical. And stop thinking about that. This is a bad thing. “No!” You make sure to manage the volume of your voice before continuing. “Of course not! Call your manager or something,” you hiss at her.

“Why nooot?”

Her pouting almost makes you cave, admit defeat, and agree to lead her back to your apartment. But… “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?”

“Well, nothing happened, right?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. You hastily shove aside the memory of what exactly happened last time. “Yeah, and we should be thankful that nothing happened.” When she doesn’t respond for another bit, you turn to her to see her cheeks slightly flushed. “Um…?”

“You said ‘we’.”

God, Karina is just so damn adorable.

“Jimin, I’m being serious here.” It turns out, that was the wrong play—whatever you said makes her flush even harder. “Now what?”

“You said my name~”

The exhale you let out contains a mixture of exasperation, sheer bewilderment, and most of all, a mask to hide how flustered you are. Her fangirling squeals are just too adorable to not smile at, so the best you can do to mask that is to turn your head away from her and shake your head.

“Look, I don’t want to be the one to call your manager again. So either you make the call, or I do.”

“Wait, no, just for a little bit!”

“That’s what you said last time, wasn’t it?”

“It’ll—”

“It’s not worth risking it. You have your entire idol career ahead of you, and I’m just some random nobody.”

“You aren’t a nobody!”

You nearly flinch at how loudly she asserts that. “Ka—shh, not so loud!” You have to whisper to her after Karina’s latest outburst draws the attention of some passersby.

“I won’t let you say you’re a nobody, ok?”

At that, a smile breaks out on your face. “Ah, right, ok, fine. Still, no matter who I am, it’s not worth it.”

“But—” she leans in close, an action that causes your already sky-high heartrate to shoot straight through the roof, “—that’s not what you said while you were destroying my pussy last time.”

Shit.

You had been hard at work trying to hold that memory at bay ever since Karina brought up the idea of returning to your apartment with you. The incident had shaken you up even more than that one time you nearly got run over by a car on your way back home from a college party; as if the idea that one of your favorite idols obsesses this hard over you isn’t fantastical enough, the idea that you had sex with her is on a whole other level of absurdity and fantasy that you frankly didn’t think collided with the real world.

“What are you saying out loud in public?” you reprimand her in a hushed voice.

“Don’t you want—”

Not knowing another way to silence the salacious celebrity, you tug at her arm to bring her closer to you so that you covering her mouth with your hand isn’t as obvious. “Please, please, not in public. People are already starting to look at us.” The subtle, tart, slightly fruity perfume you love wafts into your nose, the warmth of her body pressing up against you, a certain softness pressing against your chest, everything combined nearly drives you insane and even makes you a bit light-headed—but however flustered pulling the top-tier beauty close to you makes you, Karina herself is even more flustered. The tips of her ears are bright pink, as if she had dyed them a different color for some type of cosplay, her full, red lips spread out in a wide smile directed at her own feet, cheeks bulging out like a cute little squirrel trying to store a few too many acorns in her cheeks.

She’s too adorable. And beautiful. Holy shit is she gorgeous.

That’s the last indulgent thought of her you allow yourself to have before taking out your phone again. “I’m gonna call your manager now, ok?”

“Wait, noo~”

You pull away from her upon noticing how many more glances you two are starting to get, resuming your walk, this time to your apartment. At this rate, it seems like it’s only a matter of time before Karina is noticed, and if it’s a question between getting caught in public attached to the arm of some random guy and dealing with her in your apartment for the few minutes it took her manager to pick her up, the answer is obvious. All you have to do is to be more resilient than last time.

Part of you wonders if this is all your fault. Maybe your wishy-washy reactions to her behavior is what enables her continued stalking of you. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so receptive to all her advances, she would’ve eventually stopped this unhealthy, this dangerous habit.

“Are we going to your apartment now?”

“How—” you stop yourself short of asking the question. Previously, you were just randomly walking about with the express intent of not bringing her back to your place. How Karina instantly picked up on that fact right as you changed your mind is a question you probably don’t even want an answer to.

“Wait, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“…What?”

You watch her suddenly stop and pull out her phone to fix her bangs in utter bewilderment before promptly pulling her hastily along, whispering to her, “You can do that at my place. Do you want to be spotted?”

“But my bangs are so messy right now, I can’t go to your home looking like this…”

“But—” you stop for a brief second to look at her bangs. What about them looks messy? You shake the thought from your mind. “—what? But you were the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“I know, but…”

“Never mind, we should hurry.”

You’re avidly keeping your gaze forward, trying your best to shake off the feeling that the two of you are attracting the eyes of every single stranger you walk past. ‘Is that Karina?’, ‘What is she doing with him?’, ‘Is she secretly dating?’ – you don’t think you hear any particular voice whispering these words, but it manifests in your mind so strongly that it takes every ounce of your willpower to not turn your head and direct an accusatory gaze at every person you walk past. You’re too scared to pay closer attention to your surroundings anyway: what if you are actually right and people are identifying Karina? You figure hoping and praying that your paranoia remains just that is your best bet; after all, what else can you do? The rest of the walk home feels like the longest ten minutes of your life: with each minute that passes, you feel more and more antsy, and every pair of friends that walks past you two, your grip on Karina’s hand tightens, ready to bolt if they turn around to address her. It isn’t until you close the door to your apartment that you let out a breath of relief.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m in your apartment again!”

“Um, by the way…” Karina stops turning around whimsically like she’s a Disney Princess to look at you, causing a heap of self-consciousness for the question you want to ask to suddenly pile on. Is she going to get offended? To be fair, you had looked everywhere—the complex’s lost-and-found, under your bedframe, behind all the washing and drying machines, and still couldn’t find them.

“Hm?”

“Um—” Is this even important? Why are you asking this again? But as the seconds tick by, the pressure from her expectant gaze builds inside your head, like the staticky white noise from an old TV filling your mind. So, you steel your nerves and continue anyway, “—did you, by chance, steal some of my socks? The last time you were here?”

“Hmm?”

While her response is perfectly neutral, it still gives you cold feet. It is a good thing if this resulted in Karina being offended—you know that rationally, but emotionally, you don’t know if you can take knowing that one of your favorite idols hates you.

“My socks.” On the flip side, they aren’t even that important. Will she even find offense from your implication? This had been a mystery that bit at you for the past few weeks, and this is a chance to rid yourself of that nuisance. “Did you steal them last time you were here?”

“Socks? Hm…”

However, the more she ponders, the surer you become of your theory. “Uh…” at that revelation, you realize you don’t know what to feel. “Well, I mean, it doesn’t really matter, I guess…”

“Oh, really?!”

The amount of happiness and relief in Karina’s voice all but vaporizes any doubt in your mind that the culprit behind the mismatching socks in your drawer is, indeed, her. “They’re just socks, I can always get new ones, but, um, yeah.” Are you supposed to be honored that Karina even had the desire to steal your socks? Or is the appropriate reaction feeling creeped out that she stole them? Is there even an ‘appropriate reaction’ to your situation?

“In that case…” Karina sits down on the hardwood floor of the half-living room and as she reaches for her feet, your eyes land on the definitive proof that she was, indeed, the sock thief.

“Hey!”

“I was in such a rush the last time I didn’t check to see if they were matching, but now I wear them every time I come see you,” she explained, pulling them off her feet and showing them to you. “Can I trade one of them for the matching pair?”

“Why—you—how—” your brain is short-circuiting in its struggle to come up with a reasonable response, “—is it really—I mean—what—why?” You feel like a complete and utter idiot, but the visual proof of this ridiculous conspiracy theory you had concocted that had no right to hold a single drop of water throws you for a loop.

“They make me feel so much closer to you, and they’re also a souvenir from the first time I came here.”

Being reminded of that causes your face to explode like a steaming kettle, which incidentally also reminds you to message her manager. “Fine, you can go to my bedr—wait, no, actually, I’ll get the matching pair.” Halfway to your bedroom, you stop. What are you doing? Why are you interacting so much with your stalker? And why are you giving her your sock? “Actually, wait.” Turning around proves to be a mistake, as you are met with a giddy, excited Karina who is in the process of standing back up, and with her form-hugging outfit no longer hidden by her body-length trench coat, your brain malfunctions for a second.

“Hm?”

Shit. Don’t get distracted. This is why she’s still like this.

“Um, sorry, nothing—no, I mean, can you just give me back my socks?”

Karina frowns, taking a step back. “No!”

“Wha—” How are you even supposed to respond in this kind of a situation? Rationally, the answer is to report her to the police. But this is Karina of æspa. If news got out that she’s stalking someone, her reputation would go down the gutter and her career as an idol would suffer, and that is not something you want. “Um, please?”

“Then trade me something of equal value.”

“What? No, they’re my socks.”

“But I need them!”

It’s so difficult to argue with Karina, especially when her pouting lips, her drawn together eyebrows, her puppy dog eyes, everything about her is this adorable. “You need them…? For what?”

“They comfort me whenever I don’t get to see you for a long time.”

Honestly, you still don’t even know if you are dreaming. In a way, the only plausible explanation for how bizarre this conversation is that this is all a dream. “So, what do you want in exchange?”

“Maybe…”

Wait. Why are you offering to trade? Those socks are yours. You need to be harder on her, and not in that way. “Wait, no. Can I just have them back, please?”

“Another picture?”

“Really? Well—wait, no.” Damn it, why is it so easy to give in to her requests? “Don’t you have a lot of pictures of me already?”

“But I don’t have one of us together!”

You sigh, mostly to hide your embarrassment at the idea of taking a picture with Karina. It’s weird: one might think the relatively frequent close contact and interactions with the famous popstar trivializes the prospect of taking pictures with her, holding her hand, or even being near her, but it somehow doesn’t. “I need to text your manager first, give me a second.”

“Noo, doon’t~” You dodge her attempt to swipe your phone from you.

You’ve had meetings with your boss’s boss before, but this text message feels somehow even more anxiety-inducing. Karina is a top idol in the entertainment industry, and you are pretty much just an entry-level employee at some consulting agency: the worlds you live in can’t be more different. This isn’t about yourself or your anxiety, though: it’s about Karina and what’s best for her. It takes you barely a minute to send the text, by which time Karina has already given up trying to stop you.

“Well, now what?”

“We wait—” you divert your eyes as soon as they land on her shapely figure, outlined very nicely by the tight clothes she had chosen to wear that day, “—for your manager.”

“Well, what should we do while we wait?” The low, husky, seductive tone of voice sends a shudder up your spine.

“Nothing.”

That single word is all that you trust yourself to say before you escape to your bedroom, hoping she didn’t see the erection you tried hiding from her, and close the door before she has the chance to follow. “Just keep the socks, and please don’t steal anything else. I have, um, something to do.”

“Come on, we have a few minutes at least, right?”

You sink against the door, sitting on the other side of the closed wooden frame. You close your eyes and hold your head in your hands. Just plant your bum on the floor and your back against this door. That’s all you have to do.

“I bet I could get you to cum down my throat before I have to leave.”

The next moment, you find yourself back on your feet with your hands tightening around the doorknob. It’s that very moment that you freeze for a brief second. Whatever mystical force saves you from ripping the door from its hinges, whether it’s your inner conscious or God Himself, you thank it.

“Karina, please, just … wait there, ok?”

When there’s no response from the celebrity, you breathe a sigh of relief, going to your bed and plopping yourself down on it. A few seconds later, your phone buzzes—and you, without thinking, whip it out to open the message.

It’s a picture of Karina, devoid of all clothing, on your couch, the camera looking down at her with a packaged condom hanging out between her upward curling lips. Twin pairs of hardened nubs stood proudly away from her delectably bountiful bosom, her other hand buried between her milky white thighs.

“Fuck—” You recoil, nearly dropping the phone. The thing is, it isn’t even the first nude you had received from her, or even the fifth, but every time you had to fight the demons in your brain telling you to save it. And seeing that silver square dangling between those beautiful, soft, full, red lips refreshes the memory of the previous encounter: how amazing her lips felt, how unreal it felt to see Karina rolling the condom onto your cock … even the very fact she had one, hinting at either her intentions for today or that she’s always prepared tested the limits of your patience and self-control. What makes that worse is the teasing, playful message she sends with the erotic selfie: ‘Now do you wanna come out?~’

You shake your head, gritting your teeth and stalling for way too long before pushing your finger against the ‘delete’ button.

Yu Jimin, Karina, the leader of æspa, the object of lust and desire for men all over Korea—all over the world too, probably—who can’t even walk to the grocery store without dozens of articles and thousands of fans singing praises about how unrealistically gorgeous she is and how amazing her body’s proportions are, is in your apartment, sitting on your couch, fully naked. Touching herself.

What kind of insane are you to deny the open invitation to fuck her into next Tuesday?

‘Please stop doing that. It’s dangerous.’

After another solid minute of trying (and failing) to calm yourself down, you send the message. Even though the picture already vanished from your phone, the image is still so fresh in your mind you seriously consider jerking out a quick one.

‘If you want me to stop, then why don’t you come out here and make me?’

It goes without saying, but tugging your meat while you have a guest is terrible manners. Even if said smoking hot guest, who happens to be a stalker of yours, sends a second nude picture, this time with her legs spread further apart and the packaged condom resting on her thigh, a seductively winking at the camera while puckering those luscious, cherry lips of hers for the camera. Faintly, you swear you see a slight discoloring at the very intersection of her legs her hands are placed inside.

All you have to do is plant your face against your mattress and do nothing. Her manager is on her way. And when she arrives, the temptress will be taken away, and this increasingly daunting task, of giving in to sin, will similarly be whisked away.

But even with your eyes closed, the image of her beautifully soft curves you swear you can feel in the palms of your hands is burned in the backsides of your eyelids. Tempting as she is, sinful as she is, you stay glued to the bed. Remember what happened last time. A repeat of that is something I needed to avoid at all costs.

When your phone next buzzes, you ignore it. Even so, you can feel the tantalizing, magnetic pull of that phone, drawing your fingers to the phone’s screen to unlock it, like a siren singing out to a stuffy ship full of men who’ve had to sleep shoulder-to-shoulder with their compatriots.

“Are you really not coming out?”

Even her voice, alluring and captivating as it is, nearly peels you off your mattress like a true siren and to your bedroom door. But all you have to do is remember the repercussions from last time, the hell you went through, how much stress and anxiety you had during those few weeks, something you never brought up to Karina nor plan on ever doing. She stalks you like it’s her second job, but she is still your idol—you want her to be happy, and telling her the turmoil you underwent in part due to her definitely works against that goal.

In fact … would it make her so unhappy that she stopped stalking you?

“But last—” as you begin speaking, your throat closes, as if someone had magically taken away your ability to speak. As much as you can claim to not know why that is, saying so is to lie. Why you again and again fail to take decisive action to push Karina away, why your actions clash so much with your logical and rational thinking, is all very simple.

Logically, perhaps even morally, you know getting Karina to stop obsessing over you is the right thing to do, and all actions towards that goal ought to be taken. But … do you want that? Now that you know how it feels to have the attention of the idol you spent so much of your money and time on, going back to your boring old life is completely out of the question. You know that this isn’t good for Karina, especially because she’s an idol, but in the depths of your heart, you love how much she obsesses over you: as initially jarring it was to learn about the hundreds of photos she had of you, as startling it was to have her throw herself on you randomly as you walked down the street, all the attention she gives you and specifically you is… frankly, addictive. Sometimes, you wonder if Karina is more addicted to you than you to her.

“Hm?”

In the end, you plant yourself back onto your bed, saying, “Nothing.” You will do everything in your power to maintain the status quo. Attempting to deviate too far from it proved to be disastrous, so all you have to do is keep things the way it is. Stalker or not, keeping a healthy amount of distance is probably for the best, as idol and fan. That’s why you’ve never really asked her if she has romantic feelings for you. Ever since you found out that Karina has been stalking you, it’s been like this: Karina jumping over and over into the fires of controversy, and you barely being able to catch her and pull her away each time. You had already failed once, and you don’t intend to fail again—after all, if anything happens, it means that your time with Karina will come to an end.

Your time with Karina, or as a normal person might call it, ‘Karina stalking you’.

You always had the impression that most stalkers were mentally unwell. What, then, of a person who loves being stalked?

“Are you really going to pass up on—” A knock at the door interrupts her, and seeing that your most recent text is from Karina’s manager, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“That’s your manager. Better get going.”

A whine, and then, “Fine. But, if you ever—”

“Have a good day, Karina.”

Part of the reason you cut her off is to save yourself, as you don’t know if you can hear her utter another erotic word and maintain your self-control. The other is to, metaphorically, push her out the door. It’s only after a few seconds that you realize how curt you sounded, but there’s nothing that can be done at that point: maybe Karina taking it personally will be what’s best for her.

But the guilt makes you open the door regardless. “Hey, um—” By the time your eyes land back on Karina, she’s already putting on her coat. Her manager is also inside, standing at the doorway.

“Hi again, I’m so sorry for this, I’ll make sure to properly reprimand her.”

“Oh, it’s ok. As long as Karina’s safe, that’s all that matters.”

Her manager flashes a look of appreciation and empathy, turning back to her managee to say, “How many times have I told you to leave this poor man alone? Do you want to be all over the news tomorrow?”

“But you know how good I am at avoiding the press.”

“You can’t—” her manager sighs, turning to face you after opening the door one last time and saying, “—thank you so much for messaging me, I promise I’ll try to keep Karina on a tighter leash and cause you less trouble.”

You can’t very well say ‘it’s ok’ again, can you? It isn’t normal to simply be ok with this type of behavior, and you don’t want to give any hints to anyone at the deepest depths of your psyche, that you actually love that Karina is this obsessed with you. “Thank you,” is all you could muster. The last glance you share with Karina is all you need to know that you emerging from your bedroom was unnecessary after all; you were ready to give the excuse that you opened the door to let her manager in and apologize for being so cold in the meantime, but seeing her eyes beaming a smile at you reassures you that saying so isn’t needed.

You try to forget about it the rest of the day; when it comes time to sleep, however, no matter how hard you close your eyes and attempt to clear your mind, you can’t drift off. You had actually made it a point to try to avoid the couch, but your curiosity ultimately got the best of you: still, no matter how hard you looked, you still couldn’t find that one discolored patch you could’ve sworn you saw in the second picture. Not that you’re too upset about it or anything.

You probably need to wash those cushions soon.

You turn over, letting out another sigh.

God damn it, might as well.

After a quick few minutes, exhaustion takes ahold of you and darkness overtakes your conscious. When you next awaken, it’s still dark. You aren’t one to wake up much in the middle of the night, but even taking that fact into consideration isn’t the most startling thing. That belongs to the reason you had awoken: namely, the figure at the foot of your bed.

You dart a half-upright position. “What the fu —”

“It’s me.”

The shock is enough to blow away your sluggishness, but the voice clears your head of all the just-woke-up confusion and any semblance of drowsiness. “Ka … rina?”

As your eyes adjust to the dim light of your darkened bedroom, they land on the beaming smile she offers you. “Yeah!”

“What the hell—” you understand you should be more shaken, perhaps even terrified to some extent, but neither emotion wells up inside you. You know the ‘normal’ reaction is to be terrified of the person who broke into your house in the middle of the night, but some combination of being used to Karina being places she really shouldn’t be and having fantasized about this exact scenario before drifting off instead causes a burgeoning elation and excitement to bubble to the surface. “—what are you doing here?”

“Well, we have more time now, right?”

You sit up fully on your bed. “No. No, no no no.” Those emotions aren’t something you can let Karina know about, though. Maintaining the status quo and all. Who knows how she might react if she finds out your true feelings about her obsession with you? “What time is it right now?”

“Um, about 3am?”

“3—Go home! Get some sleep! What about your schedule for tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow—today, actually, I have nothing.”

“Wha—” you stammer for a few seconds, your brain overloading with all the millions of questions and thoughts you have but unable to pick one. It eventually lands on the most obvious one. “—how did you even get in?”

“Your spare key.”

“My spare—” the spare key you left in your kitchen drawer, you imagine is what she’s talking about. She must’ve found it while you had locked yourself in your bedroom.

In the nude? Was she walking around your apartment completely naked?

You shake your head, clearing the thought from your mind. “—um, can you give that back?”

“Aww, whyy~?”

Karina claims to be bad at doing aegyo, but why is she so damn adorable when she whines and pouts like that?

“Please?”

“Then, I’ll trade you.”

The first time you tried to resist her trade offer that day—the previous day, technically—it failed spectacularly. It’s ridiculous to have to trade to acquire something that was stolen from you, but you understand she isn’t going to give it back so easily. “Fine. For what?”

“The spare key…” a mischievous glint in her eyes is noticeable even in the dark. The pit of your stomach drops upon seeing it. “…for—”

“No.” You cut her off before she can finish. Seeing that expression in her eyes is evidence enough of what her next word will be. And hearing that word coming from her mouth is the last thing you need at the moment: your heart is beating ten million miles a minute, your attempt to mask it with a cold, emotionless response being your only barrier between the status quo and Karina’s desires.

“How amazing your cock felt stirring up my insides was something I couldn’t forget.” Unfortunately, that barrier is a flimsy piece of paper and Karina is a barreling, runaway train. “How about you? Do you remember how my pussy felt?”

“No, please, Karina—”

She throws aside your blanket and seats herself on the edge of your bed, tenderly placing a hand on your leg. “Are you sure?”

Your breath hitches at that slight bit of contact. It’s ridiculous; after all the close-quarters contact you’ve had with her, after having had sex with her, you still act like a pure maiden at even the slightest bit of physical contact. “Karina, I’m serious. You need to go home, before I have to contact your manager—”

“With what phone?” Your eyes bulge out upon seeing the phone Karina is waving at you—your phone.

“Give that back—” you swipe at her hand but miss, the phone being pulled out of your grasp just in time. “—Karina…”

“How about this: I find out if you actually remember last time, and if I find out that you’re telling the truth, then I’ll give you back your phone.”

“No! It’s my phone—” the tips of your ears burst in a cloud of steam when you feel Karina’s hand slide up your leg, getting closer to the erection that you hope the dark veil of the night is adequately hiding. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue, “—can I please have it back?”

“Then you shouldn’t be afraid to let me check, should you?”

That is something you need to avoid at all costs. “Damn it, Jimin.” You lurch forward, grabbing one arm while the other reaches past her and snatches the phone from her hand. “You can’t just—” Why was that so easy? Was she not resisting—

Turning to make eye contact with her, her face mere centimeters from your own, turns out to be the worst possible thing you could’ve done in that situation.

In an instant, Karina is laying down on the bed you were sleeping on just moments ago, her hips straddled by your legs.

“J-Jong—!”

“You goddamn slut.” The words come out of your mouth before you can even fully process what you had just done to her. It feels like you are being possessed by some kind of carnal beast, but you don’t even know if you hate it. After all, being the passenger to this beast lets you see the mixture of red-eared embarrassment and lip-quivering, eye-twinkling lust of the one who had awakened it. On the stage, Karina dominated the cameras and the audience with her powerful stage presence, but in bed, you dominate her with a mere touch. The normally charismatic popstar is reduced to nothing but a whimpering, wanton woman by your fingers. “Breaking into my apartment in the dead of a night for a booty call?”

Seeing the arousal deepen in Karina’s eyes and seeing her legs squeeze together in your peripheral vision invigorates the beast. “I-I’m sorry…”

Your first time in this very bed flashes in your mind: how she obeyed your every whim, the submissive way she responded after you had thrown away all semblance of consideration for her when your lust reached a breaking point, how she shifted from demanding to demure the instant you used any kind of force on her—“I gotta wake up in a few hours for work, how are you gonna make that up to me?”—the feeling you got after fucking her for the first time, how learning that Karina was a power bottom made you even more addicted to Karina than you had already been, it all came to a head at that very moment.

“I’ll—I’ll relieve all your stress.”

With how forceful Karina is normally, you sometimes wonder if your interpretation of the singer at the time was correct. Maybe you were taken by the moment, or maybe she was just putting up an act?

“Channel the frustration you feel that your boss only ever assigns you too many or not enough tasks, the annoyance you feel that your favorite ramen place is closed due to construction, the disappointment and concern that your stocks haven’t been doing well recently…”

But seeing her laying below you, chest heaving and eyes sparkling with excitement, you know that you were right on the mark.

“Vent out all your pent-up emotions into me.”

You don’t seem to care how she knows about your grievances with your work, your favorite ramen place being closed, or your stock portfolio; all you seem to care about is the beautiful platter Karina is serving herself to you with.

“This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” Now that you are sufficiently close, you can see that her outfit is decidedly different than what she had been wearing before; while the previous outfit showed off her curves beautifully as it was, the top she is wearing now shows so much cleavage, it leaves practically nothing to the imagination. It might’ve been a trick of the light, but you swear you can see little bumps where her nipples should be through the clothing. “You came here with half your tits exposed like this?”

“No, I took off my coat.”

Your eyes briefly glance to the side, quickly finding a rather thick leather coat laying on the floor next to the bed.

“That’s it?” Karina nods. “And you didn’t even, for a second, think about what would happen to you if some drunk guy saw you with such a slutty outfit on?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“What if someone saw this sorry excuse for clothes you have—” your fingers curl around the deep neckline of the top and pull it down, causing her bountiful bosom to pop out. You’ve seen them plenty of times already, in person once and in pictures numerous times, but every time you are completely enthralled by them. Watching the perfectly round, plush mounds bounce around a few times in a triumphant cry out for their freedom, zeroing in on the palm-sized light pink areola surrounding her even pinker nipples, swollen and erect and begging to be squeezed— “and decided they wanted to have their way with you?”

Karina doesn’t respond with an apology, but with a moan, in response to your hands taking the hefty mounds of fat and rolling its marshmallowy texture in your knuckles. You had never been with a woman so well-endowed and had no idea they could be this fun to knead and roll until the last time you had this pleasure.

“You’re an idol, have some degree of self-preservation, wouldn’t you?”

The seriousness of the concern dissipates with every squeeze and every roll of her nipples between your fingers. “J-Jong…”

“Is that even a concern? Maybe you’d like that, being bent over some random alleyway, taking some stranger’s cock inside your pussy?”

Just the thought of that makes you tense up, causing Karina to yelp at the sudden pinch you give to her nipples. “N-No! I only want yours!”

You can feel your manhood straining against your boxers, a well of lust and desire stirring up inside you. As repulsive as the thought of Karina being raped is, some sick part of you decides it’s also hot, adding self-directed rage to the hodgepodge of confusing emotions inside you. “Do you even know how fucking irresistible you are?”

Karina shakes her head, perhaps sensing the bits of frustration and worry in your voice. “N—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that…”

“Then what were you thinking?”

Although her eyes were downcast with guilt, her cheeks were still flushed, breath hitching at every kneading and massaging motion of your hands on her tits. “I—I was just, I was just really horny and wanted to feel you between my legs and messing my insides up so much that I couldn’t think about anything else.”

You of course know the prevalence of stalker fans—sasaeng fans—in KPop. The infamous case of Nayeon’s stalker, who had a delusion that she reciprocated the twisted kind of love he harbored for her, among various other cases, driven by the marketing strategy of the entertainment labels preying on the loneliness of a population of young adults starved for human connection, is all too familiar with you. There seems to be a new story in the news about an idol being harassed by sasaeng fans every week, but it was just that: news. It has as much connection to you as everything else that appears in the news, all the reported murders and celebrity drama and the like. A stalker is as mystical of a person as a serial killer: you know they exist, but you feel like you don’t truly understand the depths of their depravity.

So this is the result of fucking your stalker, huh?

That thought breaks you out of your lustful stupor, a moment of clarity dissipating all the sexual desire building up inside you.

Karina became so horny that she pretty much risked her life, walking out in public in the middle of the night with such a skimpy outfit hidden beneath a single coat, to do this.

“Hm? … What’s wrong?”

Her obsession with me completely disabled her reason and logical thinking. Her, a woman, an idol, did something so brazen and irresponsible and dangerous…

“J-Jong—…what’s wrong?”

…and it’s all my fault. If I didn’t respond so favorably to all her advances, she wouldn’t be doing such stupid, dangerous things.

“Jong—”

“Karina.”

“Hm?!” You pushing yourself off Karina causes her to jump a little, herself following suit and sitting up so that she could better look you in the eye.

“Why did you do something so dangerous?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m serious.” You almost can’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact, but you force yourself to. “You know how dangerous it is for a woman, much less an idol, to be walking around in the middle of the night, right?”

Karina, undergoing serious whiplash from the prurient way you were speaking to the dangerously calm and serious tone you’re using, stammers helplessly. Eventually, she lands on, “…I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m sorry.”

“You need to. Your safety is always the most important thing.”

“I know—”

“As your fan, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I read in the news that you were assaulted while walking around in the middle of the night. And it would be even worse if I realized it was because you were walking to my apartment.” That last bit is an indulgent, selfish thing to say, you realize that, but you can’t help it. Perhaps if you make it about yourself, Karina will absorb what you’re trying to say better.

“…I’m sorry…”

Hearing her soft, defeated response and seeing the clear guilt in her eyes shatters your heart a little. “Damn it,” you mutter to yourself, sighing and turning your eyes back onto her, “Karina, I…” You wonder if this is what being Karina’s manager feels like. At times, it feels like you care more about her reputation as an idol than she does herself, and that’s very worrying. It’s this one thing lingering in the back of your mind that prevents you from fully enjoying the ridiculous situation the two of you are in. As many benefits there are to being Karina’s obsession, as much as you love the attention Karina gives you, in your heart of hearts, you know this can only end one of two ways: either Karina gets discovered as a stalker of one of her fans and suffers serious and irreparable damage to her reputation, or you push her away and she ends up hating you. The third option is that she gets tired of stalking you, which, with respect to everything that’s happened, seems the least likely scenario to occur. And, when you think about that, you sometimes end up wishing that this whole situation never happened: because you don’t have the strength of mind to do what it takes to get Karina to stop, but in doing so, are enabling her to continue ruining her life.

“…I don’t think—”

“If I promise to start prioritizing my safety, can you reward me?”

“Uh—” to be honest, something like this doesn’t fall within your expectations. “Um…” but, if you are to enable Karina in any way, then shouldn’t you use this power for her own good, whenever possible? “…Yeah.”

Karina beams at you. “Ok! Then, for every week I stay out of trouble with the media, I get one reward from you.”

You don’t know where this is going, but if Karina pulling her top back up and over her bosom is any indication, it doesn’t mean what you think it might mean. “…‘Reward’…?”

Instead of answering right away, Karina swings her leg to the other side of your body, and before you know it, Karina is straddling your lap. “You.”

So, it was what I was thinking.

You feel your heart revving back up. “But—” she pauses. “—then, every week?”

This causes her to stop and think. “Then, every month?”

Frankly, you don’t really feel like you’re in a situation to say ‘no’. If you do, worse things might happen. “Fine.”

She beams at you. “Great! Now, I’ll be claiming my reward now~”

Wait. What did I just agree to?

“Wai—” a moan interrupts you as Karina’s hand reaches down to cup your growing erection.

Your breath hitches. “You’re hard,” she notes, teasingly, to you.

“Karina…”

“Call me ‘Jimin’.”

“…What?”

“Come on~”

Karina barely has to convince you before you buckle. “Fine, Jimin.” Her jubilant squeal puts a smile on your face.

“Jonghyun!”

The exuberant way she responds with your name, the smile on her lips and in her eyes, how can you not let out a chuckle? “Hm?”

“Jonghyun! Jonghyun, Jonghyun, Jonghyun!”

For a moment, you forget the precarious situation you are in. For a moment, it feels like Karina is your girlfriend, and you two have just taken a step towards deepening your relationship.

“What is it, Jimin?”

When you say her name, her smile grows wider and the slight hue of pink on her cheeks suddenly become noticeable.

“Are you ready, Jonghyun?”

Feeling her palming the tension in your crotch brings you back to reality, in which your favorite idol is straddling your lap, leaning over enough to give you an eyeful of her plunging cleavage while her hands rubs your arousal.

“God…”

Hearing you moan, Jimin’s smile sparkles with a mischievous glint. “Does that feel good, Jonghyun?”

“You know what would make it feel better?”

Without missing a beat, her fingers curl around the hem of your boxers and pulls them down. Out springs your confined penis, which the topless beauty takes a second to marvel at before gingerly wrapping her fingers around the veiny, pulsating shaft.

“It’s so warm…”

You let out a hiss, ecstasy shooting up your spine at the sensation of her soft fingers gently squeezing your cock.

“Fuck, Jimin…”

She slowly begins pumping your member, but more so out of amazement than from a desire to make you feel pleasure. Her eyes are zeroed in on the dick that both of her hands are moving up and down on, her breath deepening as precum begins to leak out of your tip and onto the sides of her index finger.

“Wow, you smell so good…”

You remember her saying that quite often last time and honestly didn’t know what to make of it. You don’t use cologne or ball toner or anything; sure, you make sure to wash and keep your loins relatively clean, but it’s been a while since you shaved down there. What could she possibly like about your scent?

“It’s so hot…”

“Fuck you’re hot.”

Jimin, in a trance-like state, watches her hands pump your cock with such laser-focus that she doesn’t respond to your reply, nor does she react to your feet making contact with her sides. As your erection grows in Jimin’s firm grip, her breathing also deepens, her chest heaving with every increasingly heavy breath she takes. Her tongue occasionally darting out to wet her luscious, red lips, her barely blinking eyes unmoving from your crotch, her hands carefully rubbing your entire length with every pump, the rise and fall of her tits hovering above your legs, the sight of her practically worshipping your cock makes you forget every inhibition you had about this.

“Hmmm…” Your breathing deepens and your arousal grows, but it’s all cut short when she abruptly stops. Before you can question her, she lets out a, “fuck,” under her breath.

You had barely ever heard Jimin swear. Whether it’s because she wants to uphold an image around you, or because of her Catholic upbringing, or for some other reason, even the first time you two fucked, she didn’t swear at all. So, this time, when you hear her swear, you do a double-take, wondering if you’re hearing that correctly.

“Jimin?”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

She suddenly rises up from her crouching position into a kneeling position and pulls her shorts off. The moonlight streaming in the window of your bedroom frames her body perfectly, highlighting the same curves you fantasized about a few hours ago, and crucially, revealing the reason for her sudden explosion of frustration: even in the dim moonlight, you can see that her panties are soaked.

“I need you so bad, Jonghyun.”

In the next second, you’re hovering over her, her legs threaded between your kneeling ones. The intensity of your stare makes Jimin squirm, but you can’t help it: she looks so damn sexy.

“Please, Jonghyun.”

Hearing the plea snaps you out of the daze Jimin’s aroused expression entrapped you in. “So needy.” Your hands go to the intersection of her legs, your index finger tracing the outline of her skimpy underwear. “And so wet.”

It was only a single digit, but it’s enough to make the idol shudder. You can see her body tensing the closer your finger gets to her sex, and feeling that power makes you grin.

“Ooh, oh my…”

Jimin lets out a whine as you lift your drenched index finger off her. As you lift it closer to your face, you see her eyes trained on that finger, so instead, you lean over and offer it to her. Without hesitation, she parts her lips, and you direct that finger into her waiting mouth.

“Fuck…” The feeling of her plump lips wrapping around the base of your finger and her tongue wrapping around its length adds to the sexiness of the sight. “…that’s so fucking hot.” The brief reprieve from earlier had reigned in the beast that had awoken inside you, but now, you can feel a tension building deep within your chest, like a depleting patience meter that would break free the carnal beast’s shackles.

You pull your finger out of her mouth, planting it on her clavicle and running it down her sternum. A silver trail of saliva follows your finger up and around her breasts, an action that causes Jimin to shudder and whine a little bit more, before they find their way back to the panties absolutely drenched in her juices.

“Jonghyun, oh my God…”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Using your Lord’s name in vain?”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, vehemently shaking her head. “No! I’m sorry, I didn’t—” her breath hitches, letting out a yelp as you suddenly press your index and middle finger against the clothed slit. Her entire body jumps, as if an electric current ran through her body.

“Naughty, naughty girl.”

As your two fingers rub against her moist heat, Jimin’s reactions become more erratic, her cries more desperate. “Please, oh my God, Jonghyun!”

“Oh my God, what?”

The more pressure you apply to the damp piece of cloth, the louder Jimin’s moans get. “I-I need you—” she lets out a shrill yelp when your thumb accidentally brushes up against the swollen, sensitive nub sitting atop her labia. “—need you, you, inside!”

You can tell Jimin is slowly losing her mind with your teasing, and honestly, so are you. With every sensual sound the singer emits, with every jerk of her body, you can feel your breath grow heavier and something twisting inside your chest. As much discomfort that twisting gives you, you can’t help but revel in seeing Jimin getting more and more impatient, watching her writhe and wiggle at your every touch. This sense of control and power is something that you thrive on.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Ah, aah!” Jimin’s body tenses up again as your thumb ‘accidentally’ flicks her clothed clit. “Jonghyun, please!”

You’re getting impatient too. Your cock is straining against your waist, so much that it almost hurts, but you continue rubbing her clothed sex with your two digits. The more you hold yourself back, the better the reward is.

“Please what?”

But there’s something else in that.

“Please, please, your—your cock—ah!” Your thumb very purposefully presses her pleasure button, causing a jolt to be sent into Jimin’s body. The grin on your face widens. “—your cock, I need it, need it, inside me!”

The longer you keep her on the edge like this, the more you tease her, the more she’ll want you. The more she’ll savor the feeling of your dick filling her wanting, needing pussy up, and the more obsessed she’ll become with you.

When she begins bucking her hips to meet your fingers, you pull back. “Mm mm~” you say in a teasing, singsong voice. “Naughty girl.” In Jimin’s eyes are desire and lust, even more than before. Your fingers pressing against her undergarments draw out more impatient whines, but this time, her body obediently doesn’t jerk into them. “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“I—I’m, I’m burning up, my whole body is so hot…” she lets out a gasp as your fingers hook around the thin material of her panties, which transforms into something between a sigh and a moan as you push the sopping wet piece of lingerie down her slim, silky-smooth legs. You take a moment to savor that feeling: her leg muscles are toned, but her skin is soft and smooth. Just feeling it against your fingers is paradise, but for Jimin, it only drives her further off the edge. “It—It hurts, Jonghyun, it hurts…”

You snap out of it, stopping immediately to look up at her. “What? Sorry, what hurts?”

Unexpectedly, Jimin’s face turns an even brighter red at the question. “…it.” Her gaze falling on her legs make you, at first, panic even more, thinking she was somehow indicating her discomfort with you taking her panties off. “My … it.” When she repeats those words, you come to realize what she means.

But, just to make sure…

“Your what? What hurts?”

“D-Don’t tease me!”

You hide the grin threatening to spill onto your lips. “If you don’t tell me what hurts, I won’t be able to help you, Jimin.”

“Jonghyun…” You continue pushing the undergarments off her legs, and by the time they make it past her feet, she kicks it off. “…ah, ah, oh my—”

Her voice becomes breathy as you push her legs apart, her voice raising an octave when your fingers rub against her pink folds, sticky from the excess of her honey. You can hear how crazy the direct contact makes Jimin, and it sends you into a frenzy. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” More than being impatient, it isn’t simply a desire anymore: it was a need.

“Jonghyun~” Her back arches when you stick your two longest digits straight into her inferno, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. “Oh!”

“You like that?”

Jimin nods her head fervently, as if possessed by some lascivious ghost. “More!” You can start seeing the sweat gleaming off her brows. “Pl-Please!”

“You love feeling me inside you?”

The fiercer your fingers, the louder Jimin moans, and the more her back arches off the bed, and the harder your dick becomes.

“Yes! Oh my God, yes!”

You can feel how tight her pussy is, even around your two digits, but are still caught off guard when she succumbs to an orgasm after you slam your thumb against her clit.

“Jongh—” the first spurt of liquid sprays onto your wrist, and before you even have the chance to react, the next lands on your face, drawing a diagonal line from your left eye, across your nose, and to your right cheek. “—oh, oh my, oh, fuck!”

The singer continues to spray her nectar all over your arm, torso, face, and neck, convulsing against the bed, her body wracked with an overwhelming ecstasy that causes the bed to creak at the uncontrolled vibration of her body.

“Holy…”

Seeing Jimin’s reaction, you stop for a moment. You aren’t this good … so what caused this? Is this just from all the foreplay you were doing? Or maybe she’s just this horny?

“Ah, ah…” Jimin’s climax begins to subside, her back meeting the bed once again, but far from a look of content washing over her face, her eyes lock onto the rock-hard cock attached at your hips with an insatiable hunger. “Jonghyun…”

You can see the lust lingering in her eyes, even as she basked in the afterglow of her orgasm, and that’s enough to bring you back into it. “Naughty girl. Who said you could cum before me?”

Her breath hitches again as you start aligning your cock to her core, poking at her inner thigh. “I-I’m sorry, oh my…”

“You were so horny, you came from just my fingers.”

“Jonghyun…” The tip of your penis makes contact with the sopping wet sex of the idol singer, causing her to let out another gasp in response. “…oh, oh God…”

“Are you sure you can handle this, then?”

Jimin only answers with encouraging moans, her gaze locked fiercely onto your dick as it nears her entrance. You can feel the tension building inside her, the anticipation in her clenched fists and her curled toes, her lips parted and letting out little puffs of sighs and gasps. When you look up to meet her gaze, it becomes evident she simply didn’t hear you, so laser-focused on your cock that every other sense is rendered inert.

“Can you, Jimin?”

Hearing her name snapped her out of her trance. “Hm? Sorry, what?”

In that brief moment when her concentration shifts is when you strike. Barely able to hold onto your own senses at that point, you let go of every semblance of self-control, mercilessly driving your cock as deep as you can inside her.

The resulting screaming moan erupting from Jimin’s throat is so loud, you’re momentarily snapped out of your lustful stupor in concern for your neighbors. After settling the matter quickly by reconciling the impossibility of identifying Karina of æspa with just a muffled moan, you turn your attention back to the wet, sticky, hot grip Jimin’s pussy is exerting onto your dick.

“Jong—jong—jo-nng, hnng…” her words melt into meaningless sounds and lewd noises the deeper you push yourself into her. You, yourself, feel like you’re melting into her; not even a few seconds in and it already feels like your shaft is being lathered on all sides by some warm, viscous fluid, in thanks both to her prior orgasm and how tightly her drenched walls are hugging your cock. Whereas normally, the slimy feeling on your privates might’ve been repulsive, knowing it’s a product of Jimin’s lust for you turns that into arousal.

“Shit…”

The sight before you is frankly, utterly unbelievable. It’s already unbelievable enough that this isn’t the first time you’ve seen her naked, and it’s even more unbelievable that this isn’t the first time you’re fucking her, but seeing her splayed before you, her eyes shut but her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted with her tongue threatening to haplessly loll out, the hypnotic swaying motion of her breasts heaving in accordance with her breath, her arm muscles tensed and her fingers curled into tight fists, her beautifully smooth and pale skin illuminated perfectly by the moonlight streaming from the window of your bedroom, her cute belly button and a little further south, in which your cock was firmly wedged between her slim, silky legs, makes you even harder, painfully so. You can feel a familiar sensation welling up deep inside your loins.

“God, fuck, Jimin…”

The pistoning motion of your cock prevents Jimin from forming full words, reduced to letting out half-words and squealing moans. You can feel bits of her juices landing on your groin with every thrust, the squelching noise of your connection and the warm air quickly filling with the musk of sex stimulating your senses even more. You don’t think it is possible to get even more horny after finally fulfilling Jimin’s desire of being filled up with you, but, in hindsight, there simply wasn’t a way for that not to happen.

“Jo-Jong—Jonghyun!”

The first time Jimin manages to get out a full word is what snaps you out of the trance you were in, mesmerized by the back-and-forth swaying of her tits while pushing yourself inside her again and again.

“Is this what you wanted?”

The enthusiasm of Jimin’s nodding might’ve seemed hyperbolic if you didn’t feel her legs wrapping around your waist, squeezing you closer to her in perfect synchronicity with your thrusts.

“It—yes!”

You can feel the poor bed frame shaking and faintly, you can hear it squeaking under your vigorous motions, but you pay it no heed. Your mind is overloading with ecstasy, barely able to focus on anything but the sensual, screaming seductress underneath you. You can feel your body moving, and hers in sync with you, your cock unrelenting on its assault on Jimin’s pussy.

Why did you deny yourself this for so long?

“How horny must you have since entering my room to become such a shameless slut, huh?”

Jimin shakes her head. “N-No, sin-since—” her words transform into a moan, her back arching off the bed again. The motion inadvertently, or perhaps very intentionally, pushes out her delectable rack, and like opposite poles of a magnet, your hands are drawn to her round, perky tits. “—since—ahn!” An adorable squeal erupts from her lips when your hands reestablish contact with her breasts. You are listening to Jimin, you swear, and had a hunch that this would disrupt her from giving you an answer to your inquiry, but you can’t help grabbing them as much as a droplet of water can’t help falling down a waterfall. Even watching the squishy, plush skin giving way to your kneading and squeezing motions is addicting in and of itself, but feeling its softness … it’s a wonder how you were able to restrain yourself hours before. But now that you’re this far, you can feel that burgeoning feeling in your nethers expanding, as if about to burst. Gritting your teeth and increasing the strength of your squeezing is all you can do to hold it back; while you want to continue indulging in the heavenly feeling of Jimin’s hot, tight walls rubbing against your dick, this very action is what’s causing the impending climax to loom over you. It’s a serious dilemma: the more you indulge more in Jimin’s pussy, the sooner it’ll come to an end. So, what should you do?

The solution you find is within your grasp: instead of focusing on that, focusing on Jimin’s rack, you find, extends the time you have left. “So heavy. It’s only fitting such a blatant harlot like you has such massive tits, isn’t it?” Your fingers softly squeeze her nipples, and a louder squeal splits the warm, musky air. You can see her body tense up in reaction to it, and also feel it: her pussy squeezes your cock shortly after, causing a groan to tumble out your lips. That tension threatens to unravel, but you push it down at the last second. Now that you are actually fucking her, enjoying this for as long as possible is the primary thing on your mind.

“—I was horny ever since entering this apartment earlier today.”

Jimin pushed the words out of her mouth in rapid-fire, but clearly enough for you to understand.

Oh.

…

Oh.

No wonder she came here in the dead of night with such a form-fitting outfit. No wonder she came so quickly to just your fingers. No wonder her face is so flushed, and why she looks like she’s in heat, why her facial expression and her body language—why everything about her screams ‘I need to be bred by you. Now.’

For a moment, you wonder how you’d feel if you were blue-balled for hours and hours on end. How excruciating that would be. How desperate you’d be to find reprieve. Maybe she had even masturbated, maybe even a few times, before coming here. And, while you were able to relieve yourself, Jimin seemingly wasn’t. Assuming she did try, it clearly didn’t work. And, so, at the end of her rope, she jumped out of bed, dressed herself like this, and walked over to your apartment.

“Fuck.”

With that knowledge, everything seems to change. Amidst the pleasure and ecstasy Jimin is drowning in, you can see the relief hidden in her face. Mixed in with her pants and moans and squeals and ecstatic screams are traces of a long-awaited contentment. And to know that it is you who caused it, to know that it is you that the Jimin laying before you obsessed so hard over, and now it is your cock granting relieve to the pussy aching to be fucked but getting no reprieve for hours and hours on end, pushes you damn near the edge.

“Fuck.”

Jimin can feel the increased vigor of your motions, too, and responds in kind. Her hands are now gripping your bedsheets, her heels digging into the soft mattress she was laying on, doing anything and everything to keep her body from flying off. The wooden frame of your bed shakes with the cadence of your synchronized movements, its headboard lightly banging against the wall it’s propped against.

“I’m close, Jimin.”

She, on the other hand, isn’t able to share a similar warning. “Jong-Jonghyun, ah, I’m sorry—!” The first torrent, again, catches you off guard, spraying all over your groin and abdominal area, as well as her own legs and stomach. “—oh—” Her body vibrates even more violently than before, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, completely and utterly succumbing to the ecstasy wracking her body. “—it’s so—” Her vigorous reaction to her climax stimulates you even further, the jerking motion causing the tension you were so desperately trying to hold back to explode. “—nng, oh my—” But looking at her tensed facial features, listening to her alluring voice shaking in unintentional vibrato, feeling her convulsing walls squeezing your cock in a rolling motion, as if attempting to coerce your seed out, it’s only a matter of time. “—fuck!”

Hearing that, the rare swear out of the mouth of the Catholic girl, does it. You yell at her one final time, a barely coherent string of nearly meaningless words, before you bury yourself as far as you can reach inside her and unleash everything.

“A-Ah!” Your hot, sticky seed shoots straight into her womb, each rope of semen splattering against her insides causing her to flinch a little. “Oh, ah, so hot!” It’s only then that you finally remember: you don’t have a condom on.

“Wait, fuck—” But it’s too late. Jimin’s legs are wrapped tightly around your back, trampling any ideas of pulling out.

“So hot, oh, oh God—”

“N-No, no, Kari—Jimin!” You try anyway, reaching back in a vain attempt to peel her legs off you. Whether the reason for it is that you don’t have the strength or you don’t put enough into it is barely a question: your hips keep bucking into her viscously, every audible, wet clapping sound of your balls against her ass moistened with her own ejaculate sending shockwaves of pleasure into you. “Damn it—” your words are drowned out by Jimin’s orgasmic moans, her climax extended by the abrupt intrusion of your seed her pussy was so desperately trying to milk out.

You don’t even realize the fact that you’re using Jimin’s boobs as a handle while you ride out your orgasm with her until it subsides and the tension in your hands relax.

“Jonghyun…”

You take a few moments to catch your breath, all your strength suddenly having left your body. You can barely keep yourself upright, and almost slipping from pushing against the smooth, buttery texture of her boobs is what makes you realize what you’ve done. You lift your eyes, and, surely enough, her otherwise pink areola is a noticeable shade darker.

“Damn it, fuck…”

Your refractory period is hitting you, hard, so when Jimin smiles and pulls you onto her chest, you don’t retaliate. With your cock still wedged deep inside her, it isn’t even given a chance to soften—still, not even the pillowy feeling of her bosom against your cheeks is enough to grant you the strength to immediately go again.

“I can feel it inside me, Jonghyun~” At first, you figure she’s referring to your cock. “It feels so warm, and so full…” Then, you realize she’s talking about something else.

You dart up, trying to push yourself off her but being stopped by her legs. “Shit—”

“Hm?” Your sudden actions startle Jimin, whose facial expression transforms from contentment to concern. “What?”

“No, shit—”

“Jonghyun? What’s wrong?”

Even the worried look on Karina’s face is beautiful, and heartwarming to an extent, but the fact that she’s more concerned about your sudden outburst than the fact that you just came in her extinguishes those feelings.

“Karina, you—”

“Jimin.”

“—shouldn’t—” the way she can pout so adorably, even fully in the nude, with your cock stoppering her pussy, stuns you for a second. “—you shouldn’t have let me cum inside.”

“Why not?”

You can only guffaw at that. “What? Because you can get pregnant!”

“I’m on the pill! It’s ok!”

Hearing that relieves you, but only slightly. “But—I mean, what if I have an STD?”

“Well, you didn’t give me one the last time. Unless—” her eyes darken, and a shudder runs up your spine, “—you’ve had sex with another girl in the meanwhile?”

“No! I—” you force yourself to pause. Any fear the look on Karina’s face inspires in you isn’t the main issue. “—the point is, you should’ve stopped me first. It’s always better to be safe than—” you’re interrupted by your own grunt in response to Karina’s legs squeezing you, causing your cock to twitch inside her. “—fuck—first of all, let me go.”

At this, she frowns. “No!”

“Karin—”

“Jimin!”

You sigh. “Fine. Jimin, please, let me go.”

“But you’re still so hard! And I’m not satisfied yet!”

You can feel your exhaustion from the refractory period starting to wear off, and you know if you’re still connected to her by the time that expires, that can only spell out more disaster. Glancing at the redness on her breasts, you grimace again. “Jimin, I’m tired. I have to get up early tomorrow for work. Please?”

Thankfully, she relents. You breathe a sigh of relief, extracting yourself from her. As you’re putting your boxers back on, you hear Karina let out a grimace of her own, and in your peripheral vision, you can see why: trickles of your creampie are leaking out her hole.

You avert your eyes before the sight fully stiffens you up again. “You can go clean up in the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to.”

You blink. “What?”

“I don’t want to,” she repeats.

“But—” you stammer for a few seconds, realizing for the umpteenth time that you have no idea how this KPop superstar’s brain works, “—how are you going to get home?”

“But you said it yourself, right? I can’t go home in the middle of the night like this.” You open your mouth to answer, but she intercepts you. “And I can’t ask for an Uber or anything, and asking my manager to come pick me up from here is only admitting that I came here in the middle of the night to have sex with you.”

You grit your teeth. You know she’s right. Just the memory of the fallout from last time makes you want to go crawl in a hole; what’s done is done, so the least you can do is to minimize the chance of this night’s events leaking out to anyone else.

“Fine. I’ll go—” you move to get up but are immediately pulled back down onto the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Going to sleep on the couch.”

“No! Just sleep here with me.”

You’ve just had sex with her, for God’s sake. You’ve even just cum inside her—hell, your semen is currently still inside her, trickling out of her battered and beaten hole drop by drop, but hearing those words coming out of her mouth causes your face to flush deep red.

“I—…” you can’t formulate a rebuttal, and knowing how stubborn Karina is, you just huff and crawl under the covers. “—fine.”

At this point, you’ve fully recovered, but you can’t let Karina know that. How are you going to be able to sleep with the leader of æspa in the same bed as you? While she’s naked, much less?

“Good night, Jonghyun~”

You let out an embarrassingly feminine squeal when you feel her bountiful bosom pressing against your back. You can feel an erection starting to form again, so you suck in your lips, praying that your racing heart calms down. Her wrapping her arms around your torso doesn’t help, and neither does feeling her soaked groin against your butt.

Damn it. She’s actually spooning you. And damn it, why are you enjoying the feeling of her body curled up against yours so much?

No, this isn’t something you should let yourself indulge in, lest you actually get a wink of sleep. For both your and her, but mostly your, sanity. “Ka—Jimin?”

After a few seconds, “Hm?”

“Can—Can you, um, give me more space?”

“Why?”

“I—” can you even admit why? “It’s a little cramped.”

“But…” you can feel your heart plummeting as you feel her hand snaking its way south. You want to tell her to stop, but it feels as though your throat is suddenly sealed shut. You think about squirming out of Karina’s embrace, but it remains only that: a thought.

Ooh, this isn’t good.

“…you’re so hard.”

The words sensually whispered in your ear in combination with her dainty fingers slipping underneath your boxers and grabbing your now fully erect cock destroy the last semblance of self-control you had been so desperately clinging to.

If she wants me to destroy her pussy and fill her up with cum until the sun rises, who am I to deny her?

Tumblr debut fic, and also first time writing in 2nd person :o

(and also first time writing in present tense)

If you noticed there’s a LOT of setup, that will be a trend for the stuff I write, so hope you’re willing to sit through it! xD

#smut #kpop smut #karina #aespa

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dollfacefantasy · 9 months

Text

Playing to Win

pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.

this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.

“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.

“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.

You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy.

Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.

You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.

He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.

“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”

“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.

“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”

You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.

“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”

You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.

“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.

“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.

His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.

You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.

“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.

“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”

“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”

Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.

“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”

You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.

“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”

He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.

“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.

His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.

“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”

A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.

“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”

In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.

He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather’ felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.

“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”

He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.

“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”

The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.

“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.

What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.

“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.

The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.

So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.

You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.

“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.

You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.

“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”

At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.

“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.

You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.

“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”

As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.

You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.

“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.

“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.

“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.

“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.

He smirks, his victory written all over his face.

“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”

His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.

The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.

After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.

“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.

He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.

“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.

You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.

“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip.

Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.

At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.

Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.

He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.

Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.

“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.

Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.

“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”

You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.

He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.

It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.

His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.

While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.

“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.

“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.

“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.

“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.

“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.

“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.

“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.

You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.

“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.

“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.

“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.

“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”

You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.

“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”

He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.

“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.

When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.

“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.

“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”

With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.

He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.

He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.

“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.

You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.

“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.

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