#chaeyoung*

[sanayeon]

they are so annoying (affectionate)

[chearyeongs]

CHAEYOUNG 'Strategy' [241215]

[smutoperator]

Wild Ride

Baek Jiheon, Lee Chaeyoung x Male Reader

Tags: a very bright smile, anal, ass licking, blindfolds, CMNF, (lots of) facefucking, facial, floor sex, free use, girlfriend, master, motorbike, pussy eating, rimming, (very) rough sex, slapping, squirting, standing sex, threesome, voyeurism

Word count: 6067

Happy Jiheon Day!

Jiheon loves to smile. And since today is her birthday, she's got even better reasons to do so. She gets herself ready, tying her hair up and looking at her beautiful honey smile in the mirror.

Jiheon gets herself dressed as she waits for one of her groupmates to arrive. She promised her a wild ride for today, so the young maknae is quite anxious and craving to see what her groupmate is talking about.

Jiheon walks to the door of her house, where her friend is there to greet her. Chaeyoung appears with a beautiful look, taking her helmet off as she gets out of her motorcycle.

"Are you ready for a wild ride, Heonie?" Chaeyoung asks her young groupmate. "Sure," Jiheon asks, showing her cute smile one more time as she gets ready to ride alongside her friend. After a few minutes, Chaeyoung takes her to the house she set everything up.

Chaeyoung blindfolds Jiheon and starts teasing her as soon as they arrive at the house, giving her young friend some kisses. "What are you hiding from me?" Jiheon asks her. "You'll see it soon," Chaeyoung answers.

Chaeyoung walks Jiheon down the hall, turning her around and caressing her friend. "Happy birthday, baby girl," she says. Jiheon smiles again as Chaeyoung kisses her. "Wait, what is this, unnit?" she then asks as Chaeyoung gives a lick to her neck.

"Get on your knees," Chaeyoung commands Jiheon as she starts to strip herself. Jiheon can really hear the sounds as Chaeyoung takes her pants off and dives Jiheon's head towards her pussy. "What are you feeling, Heonie?" she asks her. "It's... Unnie's... pussy," she says.

"Good girl, I want you to lick it as your early birthday gift," Chaeyoung asks her. "S-sure," Jiheon obliges, putting her tongue between Chaeyoung's massive folds and enjoying it as her friend softly moans. "I wasn't expecting this type of fun," she says.

"We are just starting," Chaeyoung says as Jiheon savors her friend's wet folds. Jiheon quickly loses any shyness as she starts fingering Chaeyoung's pussy with ease. "Good girl, keep fucking that pussy," Chaeyoung commands. "Fuck yes," she then moans, enjoying Jiheon having fun with it.

"You're gonna make me cum; don't stop," Chaeyoung tells Jiheon as her moans get louder and louder. "Taste it," she commands as she sees Jiheon putting her fingers down her mouth to take her birthday rewards before going back to eat them out. "Oh shit, that's good. When did you learn how to eat pussy like that?" Chaeyoung asks. "Jiwon unnie taught me," Jiheon answers her.

Chaeyoung and Jiheon share some kisses as they hear some noise coming from the opposite room. You arrive and see them making out, already taking Jiheon from behind. "So this is the free-use slave you promised me, Chaeyoung?" you ask her. "Yes, she's all yours," Chaeyoung tells you.

Jiheon gives you her honey smile as you remove her blindfold. "Are you Chae's boyfriend?" she asks you. "Depends on the day," you answer her as you give Jiheon a few kisses. "My girlfriend's pussy surely tastes even better on you," you tell her.

You take your jacket off and take another look at Jiheon. "Look at me," you tell her. Jiheon pants as you give her pretty face a few spanks, her never ceasing to smile despite your beatings. Chaeyoung sits on the stairs, admiring the whole scene. "Hmmm," Jiheon moans.

"I'm going to give you a ride you're never going to forget. Now, turn around," you command Jiheon, pinning her against the door. "Look at that beautiful ass, ready to burst at any second from those jeans," you tell her, giving her a spanking before heading towards Chaeyoung.

"Take your clothes off and show us that ass," you command Jiheon, who does just as you ask. "Spread those cheeks for me," you tell her, Jiheon showing you the small gape in her ass. "You can do better than that," you tell her. "No, I can't; it's just this tiny," Jiheon answers you.

"Keep spreading it," you tell Jiheon, who tries to do it to the fullest. You grab Chaeyoung, choking your naked girlfriend before heading in Jiheon's direction and pinching her cute pair of tits. Jiheon moans but still smiles as you kiss her and drop her on her knees, Jiheon reaching towards your pants.

"You want that cock, don't you?" you ask Jiheon. "Yes," she answers with another smile. "Well, it's your birthday today, so I think you're ready to blow some candles," you answer her, just pulling the zipper of your pants and staying clothed as your thick meat pops out of it.

Jiheon slowly bobs her head on your cock, Chaeyoung watching as she tries not to get jealous of her young groupmate. "I don't want to take it slow today," you tell her, grabbing Jiheon's face and plowing it in front of your girlfriend. Jiheon takes it like a champ, you spanking her ass as she clings to your cock. You pop out and then swing it on her face before giving her another round of rough face-fucking.

"That's right, you can take it with ease," you tell Jiheon, grabbing her neck as she gives you a hungry smile, aiming for your balls, and then licking your shaft from top to bottom. You enjoy what is the cutest blowjob, her moving quite fast. "Don't stop, don't stop," you tell her.

"I'm suspecting someone must have taught you how to suck cock," you say to Jiheon. "Let me find out," you continue as you move upstairs towards Chaeyoung and start fucking your girlfriend's face really hard. Chaeyoung knows you like it rough, but even she is surprised by how fast you hammer your cock down her throat, giving her not an inch to breathe.

"Ahhhh," Chaeyoung moans as she gags on your cock, you hitting her face soon after. You move downstairs and repeat the rough facefucking with Jiheon, enjoying treating their throats like fleshlights. "That's good, open it," you tell Jiheon. "That's my good girl," you say to her as Jiheon gets back up and starts stroking your cock really hard.

"Do you want me to use you like a toy?" you ask Jiheon as you lick her neck. "Yes, please, ahhhhh," she says as she starts moaning. Jiheon once again smiles at you.

"Turn around," you tell Jiheon, quickly sticking your cock in her pussy. "Damn, it's so tight, let me stretch it out," you tell her. "Oh my God, yes, give it to me," she begs you as you quickly hammer your cock at full speed in her honey hole, Jiheon spreading her cheeks to take the intense heat you deliver to her from the get-go.

"Oh my God, fuck, AHHHH, you're gonna make me cum, YES, YES, SHIT," Jiheon screams. Chaeyoung is just watching as she can't help but feel a little jealous. "What do you say?" you ask Jiheon. "Thank you, master," she tells you, smiling one more time.

You lift Jiheon's right leg and push your cock back in her pussy. "Your body is incredible," you tell her. "Holy shit, fuck me hard, yes please," she begs you as she gets pinned against the door, you printing your big hands in her sexy ass. "You're gonna make my pussy fucking cum, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon screams, feeling a burning heat in her pussy she never did before.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, BABY, FUCK," Jiheon screams loudly, you pulling out and choking her. "You're enjoying this too much," you say to Jiheon as you bring Chaeyoung into the mix. "Get down and eat her out," you tell your girlfriend, who obliges and does to Jiheon what her younger friend had done to her earlier.

"Tell her you're a good girl while she eats you out," you command Jiheon. "I'm a good girl," Jiheon says, stroking your cock as Chaeyoung makes her moan down below. You hit her honey face countless times, enjoying making it red. "Wanna see how a proper submissive slut behaves?" you ask Jiheon as Chaeyoung now gets completely on her knees and starts worshipping your balls, her hot body sliding between your legs as she enjoys tasting her friend's pussy.

"Heonie tastes so delicious in your cock," Chaeyoung tells you as she takes it deeper in her mouth. Jiheon herself gets on her knees, both girls fighting to see who worships your cock the best. "Good girls," you tell them, Jiheon engulfing your cock and snatching it from Chaeyoung.

"You know where to fucking spit it," you say to Jiheon as she pulls your cock out of her mouth and spits on Chaeyoung's face. You reward her with another good facefuck, your shaft rubbing against Chaeyoung's face.

"Let me reward you for being such a good girl," you tell Jiheon as you make her turn around. "You know where I want it," you say to her. "You want it in my ass, my birthday cake, don't you?" she asks you, spreading her cheeks and smiling at you. "Perfect guess," you tell her, teasing her butthole before sticking it on it.

"Oh my God, oh shit, it's so fucking big in my ass, oh yeah, baby," Jiheon moans as you pump her ass hard, making her almost lose her balance. "OH SHIT, YES, YES, YES," she screams. "Come on, come on," you tell her, spanking her ass. You take your belt off, wrapping it around her neck as you get rougher and rougher with her. "OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT," she screams as she gets pounded hard. "You wanted to be a fucktoy; that's what you're going to be," you tell her.

Jiheon loses her breath as her quick anal session comes to an end, her fingers on her pussy as you let Chaeyoung taste the birthday girl's ass. "How does that butthole taste?" you ask your girlfriend, who bobs her head like crazy on your cock. "Like honey," she answers, moving faster as Jiheon comes in her direction and gives Chaeyoung some taps to her pussy.

"Oh damn, that's so fucking hot," Jiheon says as you shove your cock balls deep in Chaeyoung's mouth. "Look how hungry she is for your ass," you say to Jiheon as you pull your cock out of your girlfriend and start taking your clothes off while they kiss each other and share some spit, Jiheon rubbing it all over Chaeyoung's body.

"Now your next test will be getting my cock wet for my girlfriend to bounce on it," you tell Jiheon, who quickly dives under your balls, Chaeyoung lining up behind her to taste her friend's still sore ass. "You're obsessed with that ass, baby girl," you tell your girlfriend. "Don't stop, keep going," you tell Jiheon as you fuck her face while Chaeyoung spanks her ass.

"Damn, you're doing a good job; keep fucking sucking that cock," you tell Jiheon as she deepthroats your cock to the maximum. "She's such a fucking whore," Chaeyoung says as she enjoys her friend's face getting plowed. "Take that cock, show him the whore you are," Chaeyoung tells her.

You drop to the floor, letting Jiheon and Chaeyoung worship your cock together as they fight for every inch of it. Chaeyoung licks it up and down from your balls, while Jiheon sucks your tip and takes it down her mouth. The two girls share kisses as they move all over your shaft, Jiheon sitting on your face and grinding on it. "Lick that pussy," Chaeyoung says as she jerks your cock off, and then both lick it like ice cream in perfect sync.

"You're the luckiest man in the world right now, baby boy," Chaeyoung says as you enjoy Jiheon's wet folds while she deepthroats your cock. "Getting it very wet for my cunt to bounce on it," she says, adding some extra spit, before letting Jiheon have some fun with your cock as you two team up to eat her out, your girlfriend in her ass, you in her pussy.

"Seems like you've eaten that ass quite a few times before dating me," you tell Chaeyoung as she aggressively sticks her tongue up Jiheon's honey butthole and kisses you before spanking her ass. "Yes, I did," Chaeyoung says as she tells you to worship Jiheon's pussy.

Chaeyoung climbs on top of you, Jiheon sucking her perky tits. "I want to feel this fat dick inside my tight little pussy," she says, taking it slowly down it as she gets ready to bounce on your cock. "Let me tease that little fucking pussy," she says, before she starts riding. "Oh baby, oh yeah, I love that cock, fuck," she moans, meeting your thrusts with a spinning ride.

"Right there, baby, right in my tiny wet little pussy," Chaeyoung commands as she bounces faster up and down your cock. Jiheon comes in, spitting in her friend's pussy and rubbing Chaeyoung's clit as she rides. "Oh yeah, I'm so fucking wet," she says as Jiheon licks her tits and you reach to grope them.

"Let me taste that pussy," Jiheon commands as she pulls your shaft out of Chaeyoung's cunt for a bit. "That's good, make that cock nice and wet for me," Chaeyoung says as Jiheon takes it back, Chaeyoung spinning all over your cock. "I own that cock, baby; it's all mine. It feels so fucking good in my pussy," she says, Jiheon licking her pussy while you grope Chaeyoung's dick.

"I love it so much, I can't stop bouncing on that fucking cock," Chaeyoung says. Soon, you start thrusting upwards and clapping her cheeks, making her tits bounce. "That's it, baby, oh fuck," she moans, putting a stop by letting Jiheon taste it. "I want to cum all over that pretty big fucking dick," Chaeyoung says, going back to bounce as you reach to finger her clit and keep pumping her cunt.

"Ride that dick, yes, baby, use my cock," you tell Chaeyoung as she starts aggressively grinding on it, pressing her hands against your chest. "AHHHHH, FUCK," she screams loudly.

"Oh yeah, your fucking cock is so big, it stretches my tiny little pussy so god," she says as you pump up. "GIVE IT TO ME, I LOVE IT, FUCK, FUCK," she then screams, alternating between spinning on your cock and giving it very aggressive bounces. "So good, so, good," she says as she kisses you.

"FUCK BABY, FUCK, AHHHHHHH, THAT'S IT, THAT'S IT, YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO GOOD, OH MY GOD," Chaeyoung screams loud as your balls clap against her skin. "RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM, AHHHHH," she screams, her legs trembling while she rides you. "Yes, baby, use my cock whenever you want it," you tell her, spanking your girlfriend's ass and then pumping upward as you bring Chaeyoung to orgasm.

"I love that fucking dick; let me taste that pussy now," Chaeyoung says as she climbs off your cock to do some tasting alongside Jiheon. "It tastes so delicious," you tell her.

"Wanna bounce on it too, Heonie?" Chaeyoung asks her groupmate as she guides Jiheon towards your cock. "Yes, unnie," Jiheon says. "Let me watch you ride that big dick then," Chaeyoung says.

Jiheon bounces her pussy hard on your cock. "Enjoy every second of it, Heonie," Chaeyoung tells her as she kisses you romantically. "Look at that slut, you're really fucking her good," Chaeyoung tells her. "Your cock tastes delicious inside that beautiful fucking pussy, baby," Chaeyoung says, pushing Jiheon down your big shaft. "OH GOD," the young girl moans, trying to go fast.

Chaeyoung and Jiheon share some kisses as Jiheon bounces faster than ever. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she moans, Chaeyoung closely watching as she sucks her young friend's tits, before rubbing her clit and making things harder for Heonie. "That's good, please, rub it harder, FUCKKK," Jiheon says, losing her breath and clinging to Chaeyoung as she tries to keep bouncing on your cock. "Faster, faster," Chaeyoung says.

"I love watching you fuck her," Chaeyoung tells you as Jiheon shares kisses with you, her pussy queefing. "Keep going, Heonie, cum all over that big fucking cock, take it, it's all yours," Chaeyoung says, spanking her ass before Jiheon pulls out. "Let me taste that wet cock," she continues.

"Come here, Heonie, taste your fucking pussy," Chaeyoung says as both girls take on your shaft, Jiheon going all the way down your balls. Chaeyoung gets to the floor and puts herself on a spooning Jiheon. "Lick that asshole; we're going to start the real fun now," she commands the youngster, who obliges and starts spitting on Chaeyoung's ass before licking and putting some fingers down your girlfriend's butthole, spreading it out.

You soon join the fun, licking Chaeyoung's legs and making them tremble so hard she squirts all over your face. "OH MY GOD," she screams as she coats your face with your juices. "You make me so wet," she says again as you hand your cock to Jiheon, who guides your cock towards your girlfriend's asshole. "Oh my god, oh my God, baby, be gentle, I wanna be your Barbie doll," Chaeyoung says as you start fucking her in the ass, Jiheon's tongue all over her pussy as you give her slow thrusts.

"Let me taste your asshole," Jiheon says, stealing your cock from Chaeyoung to give it some spits. "I like that," Chaeyoung says, you pumping her ass hard. Jiheon enjoys taking your cock occasionally to enjoy the taste of her friend's ass. "Please, put it back," Chaeyoung begs as you drill her asshole, her licking Jiheon's pussy while she gets fucked.

"OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHHH," Chaeyoung moans as Jiheon grinds her pussy on her face. She lifts her leg, letting you take her ass deeper and deeper, Jiheon kissing her and muffling her moans as Chaeyoung's tight asshole squeezes your cock. You tease her gape a bit before attacking her backdoor harder than ever, Chaeyoung clinging to lick Jiheon's tits now. "OH BABY, BABY, BABY, THAT FEELS SO GOOD, HIT ME RIGHT THERE," she begs.

"OH, YOU FUCK ME SO GOOD, YES, YES, YES, BABY," Chaeyoung screams as you pick up that pace. "I WANT YOU TO MAKE ME CUM AGAIN," she tells you as you put quite the heat in her asshole, fingering her cunt alongside it. "GIVE IT TO ME, PLEASE, RUB THAT FUCKING CLIT," she says, you grabbing her clit and rubbing it. "You're so good, baby," Chaeyoung compliments you.

"I wanna cum all over that cock. I wanna cum all over that fucking cock. Give it to me," Chaeyoung begs. "I'm so fucking wet, your cock feels so good, I wanna feel every inch, you stretch that little asshole perfectly," she tells you. "Please, baby, can I cum all over your cock?" she asks you before giving a huge squirt shower right in Jiheon's face. "OH MY GOD," she loudly screams, making her friend all wet.

You grab Jiheon to take her her turn next on the floor. You take it much rougher with her, picking up right where you left off with Chaeyoung. "AH SHIT, OH MY GOD," she screams as you just put the tip up her butt. "What are you?" you ask her. "I'M A SLUT," Jiheon asks. "And what do you want?" you keep asking. "YOUR BIG FUCKING COCK IN MY ASS," she answers.

"Oh my God, please, give me that big cock in my ass, yes, yes, yes, baby, holy shit," Jiheon screams as she gets hammered hard in her asshole, Chaeyoung sliding between her legs to lick your balls as you pump her friend hard. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING LONG, I'M GONNA CUM ON THIS DICK," Jiheon screams as her cheeks get loudly clapped.

"OH SHIT," Jiheon screams as she gets pounded hard, you putting your right foot in her mouth to silence her screams. "Come on," you tell her, Chaeyoung enjoying as her friend's ass gets blasted at full speed. You grab your girlfriend's head, shoving it against your asshole for her to tongue it while you fuck Jiheon. "OH MY GOD, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, OH SHIT, BABY," Jiheon screams as she takes a huge pounding.

"That's what I want to see," you tell Jiheon as you briefly pull out of her ass, Chaeyoung quickly jumping to fill the void and diving to suck your cock. "You want more of that cock?" you ask Jiheon. "Yes, master," she promptly answers, fingering her clit. "Then cum for me," you tell her, Jiheon rubbing herself hard until she squirts.

"OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING," Jiheon screams as she squirts in front of you. "Get off this dick," you command Chaeyoung as soon as this happens, ready to give Jiheon one more round of your fury. "Oh shit," she moans, almost collapsing to the floor. "Give me more, give me more," she begs as you kiss her.

"Looks like my girlfriend is jealous, though; she wants to get destroyed first," you tell Jiheon as Chaeyoung tries to sit back on your cock. However, you want the cute little smiley maknae more than your slutty girlfriend now, making sure to punish Chaeyoung for jumping the queue.

Chaeyoung tries to bounce on your cock like always. "Oh shit, baby," she says. But Jiheon quickly starts rubbing her clit as soon as Chaeyoung tries, giving you the perfect opportunity to attack her ass unchallenged. "YES, FUCK MY FUCKING ASS, OH MY GOD, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE," Chaeyoung screams as she simply gets ragdolled, your cock jackhammering her asshole like nothing.

"Cum for me," Jiheon says as she rubs her friend's clit, Chaeyoung just closing her eyes and taking a repeated pounding in her backdoor. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," she loudly screams. She tries to bounce, but you simply don't let her, attacking your girlfriend's ass like crazy as Jiheon spanks her tits. "FUCK THAT ASS, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME," Chaeyoung loudly screams.

Jiheon slaps Chaeyoung's pussy and tits, sitting on top of her face as you push your girlfriend in your direction and give her a rough pearly gates pounding. "Oh my God," Jiheon says, baffled at the scene she's witnessing, your cock simply plowing Chaeyoung's ass at blazing speed while she rubs her friend's pussy, Jiheon wondering if you two are this wild having sex with each other every day.

"OH BABY, OH BABY," Chaeyoung moans as she gets drilled hard. "OH MY GOD, JUST TAKE CONTROL OF ME, I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, THAT FEELS SO GOOD, OH BABY, YES, AHHHHH," she screams, your cock clapping hard against her ass. "YES, YES, YES, GIVE IT TO ME, FUCK," she continues to scream, fingering her cunt as your balls slap hard on her clit. "I LOVE THE WAY YOU FUCK MY ASS," she screams.

"Make her cum," Jiheon tells you, spanking Chaeyoung's tits as your girlfriend is now your free-use slut. "AHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," Chaeyoung screams, her legs hard up in the air as you just can't stop drilling her asshole. "AH, FUCK, RIGHT THERE," she screams. "Cum for me, cum for me," Jiheon says, Chaeyoung exploding in a squirt. "Oh my God, oh my God, you fuck that ass so good, you stretch me out so well," she says.

Jiheon takes your cock immediately to taste Chaeyoung's ass on it. You can tell Chaeyoung enjoyed being used like a ragdoll as she gives you her signature move of rimming your asshole after an amazing fuck. Jiheon is smiling at her as she bobs her head on your cock. "Hey, Heonie, let me get something too. I love tasting my ass; it tastes so delicious. I love slobbering all over it," Chaeyoung says.

"Looks like you want more," you say to Jiheon, fucking her face from down low as she throats your cock. "Come here," you tell her, turning Jiheon around with your cock pointing right to her backdoor. "Put that cock in my ass," she begs Chaeyoung, the two reversing roles as your girlfriend now takes on the mission of impaling Jiheon full of your meat.

"Right there," Chaeyoung says, licking Jiheon's cheeks as soon as she inserts your cock in her butt. "OH MY GOD, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon screams as she gets pumped hard from the get-go. Chaeyoung watches from behind, licking your shaft and spanking Jiheon's butt as she gets pounded.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT FEELS AMAZING, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon screams as she gets spanked and pounded. "OH MY GOD, YES, SPANK ME, she begs Chaeyoung, who hits her ass hard. "Look how much you love that big fucking cock in your ass," Chaeyoung says. "YES, OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM," Jiheon screams. "Hmmm, are you gonna cum all over my boyfriend's big cock? Looks like you're no longer an innocent girl," Chaeyoung says.

"Come on, cum on my cock," you tell Jiheon, Chaeyoung diving lower and sucking your balls. "OH FUCK, OH YES, I'M CUMMING, OH MY GOD, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon says as she squirts all over your crotch. Chaeyoung savors your cock for a second, then quickly shoves it back in her friend's asshole. "HOLY SHIT, DON'T STOP," Jiheon begs.

"Pound that fucking ass like there is no tomorrow," Chaeyoung commands to you as you pump Jiheon hard, her body tilting a bit at each thrust. "That's so fucking hot, your girlfriend says, watching her friend turn into your anal cocksleeve in front of her. "OH FUCK YES, YOU'RE SO GOOD IN MY ASS," Jiheon screams. "Lick my girlfriend's ass," you command to her, Chaeyoung grinding her butt on Jiheon's face while you pound her friend.

"Lick my fucking ass," Chaeyoung says, pushing Jiheon's head against her butthole. You spank Jiheon's butt, who answers by spanking Chaeyoung's. "That's what I want to see, tongue my girlfriend's asshole," you command Jiheon, never ceasing to pump her ass hard at any second. "OH SHIT, OH FUCK," Jiheon screams as she cums all over your cock.

You wrap your arms around Jiheon, kissing her and giving her a little break. "Holy shit," I've never been fucked like this before," she says, out of breath as she sits on your lap, a very jealous Chaeyoung just watching you two have a little intimate moment.

"Keep going, baby, don't stop riding me," you tell Jiheon as she goes back to bounce her ass on your cock. "Fuck, it's so big in my ass," she tells you. "I know, but you can do it," you say to her, letting her bounce. "Oh, it's so deep," she says, you two kissing a little more.

"Come here," you tell Jiheon, putting her back on the floor as you and Chaeyoung kiss her. You go down to worship her pussy while Chaeyoung kisses her neck. "Oh shit, fuck, baby," Jiheon moans as she gets surrounded by both of you, Chaeyoung rubbing her tits as you get ready to make Heonie cum again.

"I wanna squirt all over his face," Jiheon tells Chaeyoung as you put a lot of heat in her pussy, her legs starting to tremble. "Isn't it good, Heonie?" you ask her. "It's about to get even better," you say, putting your cock back in Jiheon's ass for another round of rough spooning fuck.

"You're so fucking sexy fucking my ass," Jiheon says as you start slow this time, grabbing her butt and shocking her neck. "I want to be your cocksleeve," Jiheon says, Chaeyoung adding an extra spice as she lines up behind you to tongue your asshole between your thrusts in Jiheon's.

"Yes, baby, tongue that ass," you tell Chaeyoung. "Fuck, baby, yes, just like that, you're gonna make me cum again, AHHHHH," Jiheon screams as Chaeyoung's tongue in your ass gives you the motivation you need to attack her butt. As Jiheon cums, Chaeyoung deepthroats your cock before eating Jiheon's ass. "Oh my god, that shit feels so good," Jiheon says.

Chaeyoung gets back on top of you, and you get back on top of pumping her. "HARDER, HARDER, HARDER," she screams, Jiheon enjoying spanking your girlfriend's ass and turning it red as you make your girlfriend a cocksleeve one more time. "FUCK," Chaeyoung screams, you grabbing her body and thrusting even harder.

"YES, BABY, I'M YOUR DIRTY FUCKING SLUT," Chaeyoung screams as she gets pounded hard again. "AH, FUCK, BABY," Chaeyoung screams. "OH MY GOD, BABY, I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST KEEP FUCKING THAT ASS. YOUR COCK IS SO BIG IN IT, AHHHH," she keeps moaning.

Chaeyoung spins on your cock as you slow down a bit before pumping her hard one more time. "You like that slutty ass so much, don't you?" she asks. "I CAN TAKE IT ALL, BABY, FUCK," she screams, her legs trembling as she squirts. "Damn, that looks so good on your ass," Jiheon says, rubbing her hands all over Chaeyoung as you pull out a little to kiss your girlfriend and spit on her face a bit.

"Put it back in her ass, there you go," Jiheon incentivizes you as you turn back into an animal as soon as your cock meets Chaeyoung's anal cavity again. "YES, YES, YES, YES, MAKE ME CUM," Chaeyoung screams, Jiheon staring at her with a sexy smile. "KEEP GOING, KEEP GOING, BABY," Chaeyoung says. "That's so fucking hot," Jiheon says, both sharing kisses as your thrusts finally come to a halt.

"My girlfriend's slutty ass needs some licking," you tell Jiheon, who promptly obliges and puts her tongue all over Chaeyoung's anus, the squirrel shoving Heonie's face against it, before climbing out of your cock and pushing Jiheon to bob her head on your dick.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," Chaeyoung suddenly moans as you put your hands in her cunt to make her squirt and make the floor even more slippery. Chaeyoung makes sure to push her gushing pussy close to Jiheon's face, gifting the birthday girl with a geyser of juices coming out of her horny cunt. "OH YEAH, RIGHT THERE," Chaeyoung screams just as she cums all over Jiheon's face.

Jiheon drinks Chaeyoung's squirt as you move in her direction for her to have her turn. "I want you to show me that honey in your pussy," you tell her, reaching between Jiheon's legs and massaging her insides. "OH MY GOD," she screams as she cums, losing her breath in the process.

"Cum all over my slutty girlfriend's face; she needs to be punished," you tell Jiheon, pinning her against the stairs handrail and rubbing her cunt for a second time, Chaeyoung now right below her friend's body, ready to receive another gush of squirt in her face. "FUCK, AHHHH, SHITTT, YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM SO FUCKING HARD," Jiheon screams as her juices cover Chaeyoung's face.

Jiheon can barely breathe after such an intense fuck session, so you give her a little break, turning your attention to your girlfriend as you get Chaeyoung on all fours. "Let me lick that ass," you tell her, lining up from behind and eating her out. "Oh baby, that's so good," she tells you.

"Stretch my ass one more time," Chaeyoung says. "Oh, fuck," she moans, her hole very sore after so much fucking. "Stretch it, stretch it, baby," Chaeyoung says, you grabbing her ass and letting her boobs bounce. "You like it?" you ask her. "I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, FUCK BABY," she answers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Chaeyoung says as she moves her hips up and down. Jiheon takes a seat to watch, providing the saliva for you to fuck her. Jiheon puts her face on top of Chaeyoung's ass, you feeding her in between thrusts on your girlfriend. "Oh, fuck, baby, I love it," Chaeyoung says, moaning softly.

You fuck Chaeyoung's pussy a couple of times too, Jiheon licking her asshole and bobbing her head from time to time on your cock. "Her pussy is good, but she's really a buttslut," Jiheon whispers in your ear, you pushing your cock back in Chaeyoung's ass and letting her move her hips back and forth on your cock while Heonie watches. "Feed her," she tells you as you push your cock back in Jiheon's mouth.

"Fuck me like a little whore, baby, fuck me like a little slutty whore, that's it, baby," Chaeyoung begs. "YES, BABY, YES, LIKE THAT," she says as you increase the pace, her struggling after so much pounding. "Touch your pussy for me, I wanna see," you tell her. "TAKE IT, TAKE IT, BABY, FUCK MY ASS," she begs you.

Chaeyoung moves her hips a bit, but you quickly take control and spank her butt. "OH FUCK," she moans. "Such a pretty as you've got there, especially with my cock in there." OH BABY, OH BABY, OH BABY, FUCK ME BABY, GIVE IT TO ME, I LOVE, AHHHHHH," she screams as you hammer her ass harder than ever.

"I love being a dirty little slut for you," Chaeyoung says. "YES, THAT'S IT, THAT'S IT, MAKE ME FUCKING CUM ALL OVER THAT COCK," she begs. "OH MY GOD, YES, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME, OH SHIT," Chaeyoung keeps screaming. You rub her clit a little bit. "You made me cum so much today," she tells you as you worship her pussy and make her squirt all over her face. "You're such a wonderful boyfriend, baby," she continues.

"Come here, Heonie, do you still have something to give me?" you ask Jiheon, pinning her against the door wall where it all began, her stroking your cock, her rubbing your clit while you choke her. "I wanna cum for you, just for you, baby," Jiheon says as she fingers her pussy hard and squirts again.

"Get on all fours on the stairs," you tell Jiheon, slapping her face as she follows your instructions. Soon, you mount on top of her and start drilling Jiheon like a raging bull, a wasted Chaeyoung watching. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH SHIT, OH FUCK BABY, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon can only scream.

"FUCK THIS COCK IS DESTROYING MY FUCKING ASS, YOU'RE GOING SO FUCKING FAST," Jiheon screams as you hammer her harder than ever before, her closing her eyes and just taking the extreme heat you give to her ass. "Open that ass for me," you command her, enjoying the massive gape your cock left on it.

Jiheon got fucked so hard she can barely walk, you pushing her back against the door for one more round of standing fucking where she can barely feel her legs, them getting more numb as Chaeyoung hits to finger her cunt. You fuck the cute Heonie like a fleshlight, her never ceasing to smile even as your cock goes absolutely berserk in her asshole.

"YES, YES, YES, RUB MY PUSSY," Jiheon begs Chaeyoung. "Get down," you tell her, Jiheon bending her head as Chaeyoung pops her face on top of her friend's ass, enjoying the extremely close view of the rough action. "OH SHIT," Jiheon screams, Chaeyoung sticking her tongue out as she watches her friend get destroyed.

"I want you to cum all over me so I can share it with your girlfriend," Jiheon tells you. "Then get down," you tell her, choking her and fucking her face hard, making it slam against the door as you push your balls deep in her throat. You do the same to Chaeyoung, Jiheon licking your balls as you try to fit them in your girlfriend's mouth.

You jerk your cock off in Jiheon's face, her giving you her typical honey smile as she waits for your cum. Chaeyoung rubs her clit as she waits for you to load in her best friend. Jiheon starts rubbing her clit in anticipation. "Happy birthday, Heonie. Now taste my honey," you tell her, Chaeyoung rubbing your balls being the final straw for you to ejaculate all over Heonie's face.

You blast so hard on Jiheon that your cum spills into the door, giving her nine massive loads in her face that make her give you the brightest smile of the day. Chaeyoung comes in and licks the cum from her friend's face, the two sharing kisses.

"That was fun," Jiheon said. "For sure, we should do this more often," Chaeyoung says. "So, master, what did you like the most about me: my smile, my pussy, or my ass?" Jiheon asks you.

"I can't decide."

[apateu]

rosé for skims.

[lisanamjoon]

can u believe she exists

[venompinks]

ROSÉ ໒ྀི ROSIE VAMPIREHOLLIE EDITION

[kyunghwannie]

"Velvet Restraint"

Myoui Mina x M!Reader

➤ Word Count: 13.2K ➤Tags (18+): Domination/Submission, Possessiveness/ Jealousy, Mommy Vibes, Spanking (thighs, chest), Hair Pulling, Bondage (a little),  Dirty Talk, Choking, Face-Sitting, Blindfolding (temporary), Rough Sex, Orgasm Denial, Temperature Play (a little) ,Face Fucking, Edging, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal Gape, Cum-painting, A2M

➤Teaser: She was elegance in motion—graceful, poised, untouchable. But when jealousy laced her soft voice and her touch turned commanding, Realizations dawn upon something dangerous: beneath Mina’s calm, there lived a storm... and tonight, it had only one target—you.

➤Note: Nothing major stuff. I was just extremely hormonal for my queen Minari. And this was requested with a minor plot so yeah.

The last flashes of the camera still flickered in your vision as you stepped aside, watching the TWICE girls gather around the monitor to check the final shots. Their energy was infectious—chattering, laughing, half-teasing each other as they reviewed their poses. You tucked your hands into the pockets of your slacks, wearing that small, casual smile you didn’t even realize always lingered around them.

"Y/N, come here!" Dahyun called out brightly, beckoning you with a wiggle of her fingers. "You have to see this one. I think I’m finally mastering my 'mysterious' face."

You laughed, stepping up beside her. "Mysterious? You look like you're hiding a secret from the entire planet."

Dahyun gave a mock gasp, elbowing you lightly in the side, her white blazer crinkling with the movement. "That was the point!"

Nearby, Jeongyeon snorted. "No, no, Y/N’s right. You look like you just committed a crime." She nudged your arm conspiratorially. "See? This is why we need his feedback. He's brutally honest but still makes you feel good about it."

"It's a skill," you joked, tossing a wink at Jeongyeon, who exaggerated a swoon for comedic effect.

The easy banter continued. Sana joined, slipping an arm casually through yours, resting her head dramatically against your shoulder. "Y/N always makes everyone feel pretty. It’s unfair."

You glanced down at her, grinning. "You're acting like you need me to tell you that, Sana. You practically invented 'pretty.'"

She laughed, her hair brushing your arm. In the background, a faint click of heels echoed against the polished floors, almost drowned out by the voices around you.

You barely caught the flash of dark, observant eyes—Mina, a few feet away, standing almost perfectly still beside the drinks table, her fingers lightly curled around a bottled water she hadn’t opened. She said nothing, simply watching, her posture so elegant and composed that it blended into the white-and-gold decor of the studio.

You didn’t think much of it. Mina was always a little quieter after shoots, and you figured she was just letting the others have their moment. After all, the chemistry you had with them wasn’t anything romantic; it was warmth, familiarity—the kind of easy relationship that naturally bloomed after months of working together.

Still, you peeled away slightly from Sana, giving her a gentle pat on the hand before slipping free of her arm. You didn’t want anyone, especially Mina, thinking you were being careless.

"Alright, Miss Visual," you teased Dahyun instead, turning to her next. "Let’s see this masterpiece."

She showed you her favorite shot, her cheeks puffing out in faux seriousness as you studied it. You nodded thoughtfully, pursing your lips. "Honestly?" you said, making her lean in eagerly. "You look like you're planning world domination. But like, in a very fashionable way."

Dahyun burst out laughing, slapping your arm playfully. "I’ll take it! Queen behavior only!"

Chaeyoung wandered over, grabbing your sleeve. "Oppa, you gotta tell them I looked cooler, though," she demanded with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I had that 'don't mess with me' vibe."

You glanced at her shots, pretending to squint in deep examination. "Mmm... more like 'cute but pretending to be dangerous.' Like a kitten trying to growl."

"Yah!" she protested, whacking your arm as Tzuyu giggled behind her hand.

The laughter around you was natural, easy. You gave and received it without thought, radiating that casual affection you always carried—a warmth that had become part of who you were to them.

Still, somewhere at the back of your mind, you caught it—a feeling, a prickling on your skin. A gaze. It wasn’t hostile, but it was sharp. Heavy. Watching.

You turned your head just slightly. Mina hadn't moved. She hadn't smiled, hadn’t joined the circle. She merely stood there, her posture rigid yet graceful, her gaze lingering on you with something unreadable in its depths.

You lifted a hand slightly, giving her a small smile across the space. An invitation.

She didn’t return it. Instead, she took a small, deliberate sip from her water, set it back down with a soft click, and walked towards you, slow and composed like a ripple moving through still water.

The chatter around you didn't even falter. The girls kept laughing, arguing lightheartedly about whose photos were better. No one seemed to notice how Mina's eyes never left you.

She stopped close—closer than she usually would when others were around. Her voice was low, soft enough only for you to hear, but carrying a firm weight beneath it.

"Y/N," she said, her tone wrapped in velvet but unmistakably commanding. "We should go now."

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. "Already? I thought you wanted to—"

Mina’s hand brushed your wrist lightly, the briefest contact, but it silenced whatever you were about to say. There was no anger in her expression. No open jealousy. Mina wasn't the type to make a scene.

But her eyes—those deep, endless eyes—held something else entirely. A quiet decision. A possessive glint hidden behind her usual demure calm.

You swallowed down your protest. Something about the way she was looking at you... You knew better than to argue.

"Alright," you said quietly, flashing an apologetic glance at the rest of the group. "I’m heading out with Mina. Great job today, everyone."

They barely batted an eye, waving you off with playful goodbyes and last-minute jokes about working hard for the next shoot.

But as you stepped away, Mina stayed close—closer than normal, her presence a quiet tether between you. You didn’t even realize until you passed through the exit doors just how tightly your heart was pounding.

And Mina... Mina hadn't said another word. But somehow, you could feel the storm she was carefully, elegantly holding back.

The car door clicked shut behind you with a sound that felt too loud in the suffocating silence. Mina’s fingers curled around the steering wheel, her manicured nails—usually so pristine—digging just slightly into the leather. The engine purred to life, smooth and controlled, just like her.

You stole a glance at her profile. The streetlights flickered across her face as she pulled out of the parking garage, casting shadows over the sharp line of her jaw, the unreadable set of her lips. She hadn’t looked at you once since you got in.

Fuck.

You shifted in your seat, the weight of her silence pressing down on you. "Mina—"

"Seatbelt," she murmured, her voice soft but edged with something that made your stomach tighten.

You obeyed instantly, the click of the buckle sounding like a lock snapping into place.

The drive was agonizing. Mina navigated the streets with her usual grace, but there was a tension in her shoulders, a quiet restraint in the way her fingers flexed against the wheel every time you opened your mouth—then thought better of it.

You tried again. "You know I wasn’t—"

A red light. The car rolled to a stop. Mina finally turned her head, her dark eyes meeting yours with a slow, deliberate intensity that stole the breath from your lungs.

"Do I look like I want to talk right now?"

Her voice was silk wrapped around steel.

You swallowed hard. The air between you thickened, charged with something dangerous—something that coiled low in your gut and made your fingers twitch against your thighs.

Mina held your gaze for a heartbeat longer before turning back to the road, her lips parting just enough to let out a slow, controlled exhale.

The light turned green. She didn’t speak again.

But the way her thigh brushed against the gearshift—the way her skirt rode up just slightly, revealing the barest hint of toned skin—every tiny movement felt like a taunt. A promise.

The city lights blurred past the window as Mina drove in silence, her slender fingers tightening ever so slightly on the steering wheel. You watched the neon signs reflect in her dark eyes, those beautiful pools usually so warm but now cold as polished onyx.

Was it really about the joking around with the members? You replayed the moments in your head—Dahyun's playful elbow, Sana's arm linked with yours, Chaeyoung's whiny "Oppa." Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual easy camaraderie you'd built with all of them over time.

But Mina... Mina wasn't looking at you. Mina wasn't speaking. And Mina never shut you out like this unless something had really gotten under her skin.

"Was it Sana?" you finally ventured, keeping your voice low. "You know she just does that with everyone. It doesn't mean—"

The car jerked slightly as Mina pressed the accelerator a little too hard in response, her lips pressing into a thin line. You sucked in a sharp breath, gripping the seat.

Okay. Wrong move. You tried again, softer this time. "Baby..."

Mina's jaw tensed. A muscle feathered under her smooth skin. Still silent. You exhaled, sinking back into the seat. "I wasn't flirting. You know I'd never—"

"You don't decide what bothers me." Her voice was quiet, lethally calm, slicing through your excuses like a knife.

Your pulse spiked. There it was—the first real crack in her porcelain composure. And fuck if it didn't send a thrill straight down your spine.

Mina turned into the driveway of your shared apartment, the tires crunching over gravel. She killed the engine. Silence swallowed the car whole.

Then, slowly, she turned to face you. Her eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. "Get inside," she murmured, her voice dripping with quiet authority. "Now."

The elevator ride up to your apartment was the longest thirty seconds of your life. Mina stood beside you, her arms crossed, the scent of her perfume—something expensive and floral—filling the small space. You could feel the heat of her gaze burning into the side of your face, but you didn’t dare look.

Instead, you muttered under your breath, eyes flickering upward as if heaven itself might intervene. “God, if you’re listening… save me from my goddess.”

Mina’s fingers twitched. The elevator dinged.

You shuffled out behind her, still whispering your desperate prayers. “Mina noona is gonna kill me… I swear I didn’t do anything wrong. Help. Please. I’m too young to die.”

Mina unlocked the door with deliberate slowness, her back still turned to you. But you could see the way her shoulders tensed—the way her grip on the doorknob tightened just a fraction.

She stepped inside. You hesitated in the doorway, gulping.

“Maybe… maybe I should sleep at a hotel tonight?” you tried, voice cracking.

Mina didn’t answer. She just turned, slowly, her eyes locking onto yours with terrifying precision.

Then, with a voice like velvet dipped in poison, she murmured:

“Close the door, Y/N.”

Oh. Fuck.

You stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind you. The door clicked shut behind you. And as Mina’s fingers curled into the front of your shirt, dragging you forward, you realized— Prayer wasn’t going to save you tonight.

Her hands shoved against your chest the second you crossed the threshold, sending you stumbling backward into the bedroom. The backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you barely had time to register the dangerous glint in Mina’s eyes before she turned on her heel and walked out. The door clicked shut with terrifying finality. "M-Mina—?"

No answer. Just the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway, fading into deliberate silence.

You sat there, pulse hammering, listening to the distant sounds of drawers opening, something metallic clinking, the rustle of fabric. Your imagination ran wild. "Oh god. Oh god. She’s getting the rope. She’s getting the cuffs. She’s definitely getting the—"

A soft thud from the other room cut off your mental spiral. Then—silence. Too much silence.

You swallowed dryly. "Noona…?"

Still nothing. The tension coiled tighter in your gut. And then— Click. The door swung open.

The air in the room thickened as Mina’s fingers trailed up the curve of her waist, unhooking the clasp of her blouse with deliberate slowness. The fabric parted, sliding down her shoulders before pooling at her feet. Your breath hitched—her skin glowed under the dim bedroom light, smooth and flawless, save for the faint blush creeping up her chest.

She didn’t speak. Just hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, letting it drop with a whisper of fabric.

Black lace clung to her hips, the delicate straps framing the sinful dip of her waist. Her breasts—small, perky, perfectly shaped—strained against the sheer cups of her lingerie, nipples pebbled beneath the satin. And her ass… god, her ass. That tight, pert curve TWICE stans lost sleep over, barely contained by the scrap of lace riding up her thighs.

Mina smirked, noticing where your eyes lingered. “Eyes up here, sweet thing.”

Your gaze snapped to hers, heat flooding your cheeks. She took a step forward, the sharp click of her heels against hardwood making your pulse stutter. “Did I say you could look?”

Your throat went dry. “N-no, Noona.”

She hummed, circling you like a predator. “Naughty boy. Getting distracted already.” Her fingers brushed over your shoulder, nails grazing just enough to tease. “Pants. Off. Now.”

You fumbled with your belt, fingers trembling under her watchful gaze. The zipper sounded obscenely loud in the quiet room, your cock already straining against your briefs.

Mina’s lips curved. “Mm. Eager, aren’t we?” She tilted her head, trailing a finger down your bare chest. “But we’re not rushing tonight.” Her voice dropped, velvet and steel. “Hands on your thighs. Don’t move them unless I say.”

You obeyed, palms flattening against your legs, fingertips digging into your own skin to keep from touching her.

Mina stepped back, sinking onto the edge of the bed with effortless grace. She crossed her legs—slow, torturous—letting the lace ride higher up her thigh.

“Now,” she purred, “show me how badly you want me.” Her eyes flicked down to where your cock leaked against your stomach. “And remember… good boys don’t cum without permission.”

Her own hand slipped between her legs, fingers tracing lazy circles over the damp lace. Mina’s smile sharpened. “Stroke.”

And like a puppet on her string, you obeyed. Your fingers wrapped around your aching cock with a shaky exhale, the first slow stroke drawing a bead of pre-cum that glistened at the tip. The air between you and Mina felt electric—charged with something far more dangerous than anger. Possession.

Mina watched, her dark eyes tracking every twitch of your hand, every uneven breath that escaped your lips. Her own fingers moved in slow, teasing circles over the lace between her thighs, the fabric already damp with her arousal.

"Slower," she murmured, her voice a velvet command. "You don't get to rush this, my sweet sugar."

You bit your lip, forcing your grip to loosen, your strokes to drag out agonizingly slow. The sensation was maddening—every nerve in your body screamed for more, but Mina's gaze pinned you in place, her dominance a tangible weight in the room.

She let out a soft sigh, her head tilting back slightly as her fingers pressed harder against herself. "Good boy," she cooed, the praise sending a jolt straight to your cock. "Just like that. Show me how well you listen."

Your cheeks burned. There was something unbearably intimate about this—being laid bare under her watchful eyes, your pleasure entirely at her mercy. It wasn't just the physical act; it was the way she owned you in this moment, her jealousy morphing into something far more intoxicating.

Mina's breath hitched as she hooked a finger under the lace, pulling it aside to reveal glistening pink. "See what you do to me?" she whispered, her voice dripping with sinful sweetness. "All because you couldn't behave."

You whimpered, your hips twitching involuntarily.

"Ah-ah." Her free hand lifted, a single finger wagging in warning. "Did I say you could move?"

You froze, your cock throbbing in your grip.

Mina smiled—a slow, dangerous thing—before dragging her fingertip up her slit, gathering wetness and bringing it to her lips. "Mmm…" Her tongue darted out, tasting herself with a hum. "You want to know how you taste on me, naughty one?"

The question punched the air from your lungs.

She didn't wait for an answer.

"Then be good," she breathed, spreading her legs wider, her fingers working in slow, obscene circles. "And maybe—just maybe—I'll let you find out."

Your strokes stuttered, your entire body trembling with restraint.

Mina's laugh was soft, triumphant.

"That's it… suffer for me."

Mina’s fingers slowed against her own slick folds, her gaze sharpening as she watched you struggle to maintain the languid pace she demanded. Your cock—thick, veined, flushed deep red with desperation—twitched in your grip, pre-cum beading at the tip only to be smeared messily down your length with each torturously slow stroke.

“Look at you,” she cooed, her voice saccharine sweet even as her thighs squeezed tighter around her own hand. “My pretty, fair-skinned boy. Even your cock behaves so prettily for me.” Her free hand lifted, gesturing idly. “Tighter. Just at the base—yes, like that.”

You whimpered, your fingers obediently tightening where she instructed, the pressure bordering on painful. Your hips jerked instinctively, but a single raised brow from Mina froze you in place. Her smile turned venomous.

“Oh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Her fingers abruptly stilled against her own wetness, her voice dropping into something darker. “Like how you didn’t notice me after the shoot?”

Your breath hitched.

“You made them laugh,” she continued, her tone deceptively light as she resumed circling her clit, slower now. “You let Sana cling to you. Let Dahyun demand your praise. Let Chaeyoung call you oppa like she has any right—” Her nail dug sharply into her own thigh, her breath catching before she steadied it. “But me? You barely glanced my way.”

You swallowed hard, your strokes faltering. “Mina, I didn’t—”

“Did I say you could stop?” Her voice cracked like a whip, her other hand slamming down onto the bed beside her. “Keep. Going.”

You hurried to obey, your cock aching from the uneven rhythm. Mina leaned forward, her lace-clad breasts swaying with the movement, her eyes locked onto yours. “You don’t divide your attention, Y/N.” Her thumb pressed hard against her clit, her breath hitching. “You don’t share what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in her voice sent a brutal throb through your length.

“Faster now,” she commanded, her own hips rolling into her hand. “Show me how much you regret it. Show me you know who you belong to.”

Your hand sped up, the slick sounds of your strokes filling the room alongside Mina’s soft, controlled gasps.

She watched you with half-lidded eyes, her lips parting around a moan she refused to let out. “G-good boy,” she managed, her thighs trembling. “Just—just like that. Mine.”

Mina's chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths as the last tremors of her climax faded. Her fingers, glistening with her release, lifted from between her thighs—her dark eyes pinned you in place before you could so much as blink. "Come here," she murmured, her voice honey-thick with satisfaction.

You hesitated, your hand still working your cock at the uneven pace she'd demanded. Mina's lips curled. "Did I say you could stop stroking?"

Your grip tightened reflexively, your thighs tensing as you shuffled forward on your knees, your free hand bracing against the bed for balance. Mina watched your struggle with quiet amusement, her damp fingers hovering just inches from your lips.

"Open," she commanded. You obeyed, your mouth parting around a shaky exhale.

Her fingers pressed against your tongue without warning—taste exploding across your senses, sweet and musky and undeniably hers. Your groan was muffled around her skin, your cock twitching violently in your grip as she dragged her fingertips deeper, until your lips brushed her knuckles.

"Suck," she breathed, her other hand tangling in your hair without mercy. "Clean them like the good boy you should have been today."

You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue lapping greedily at her digits, the salt-sharp tang of her arousal flooding your mouth. Mina's breath hitched, her grip tightening in your hair as she watched you through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Look at you," she mused, her voice dripping with mocking praise. "So eager to please me now. Where was this energy earlier, hm?" Her fingers thrust deeper abruptly, cutting off your air for one breathtaking second before pulling back just enough to let you gasp. "Pathetic."

Your eyes watered, your strokes faltering as her fingers fucked shallowly into your mouth.

Mina's smile turned razor-sharp. "Did I say you could slow down?" Her free hand snapped out, wrapping around your wrist to guide your pace back to the punishing rhythm she'd demanded. "You don't get to stop. Not until I say."

Pre-cum dripped from your tip onto the sheets below, your thighs trembling with the effort of holding back—of obeying.

Mina leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she murmured: "Remember this taste the next time you think of ignoring me."

Then her fingers plunged back into your mouth, her hips rolling against nothing as she watched you choke around her.

Your hand was slick with sweat and pre-cum, your strokes ragged and uneven—desperate to keep up with Mina’s impossible demands. Every muscle in your body trembled with restraint, your cock swollen and throbbing, veins straining beneath feverish skin.

Mina watched you unravel with a predator’s patience, her fingers still tangled in your hair, her own arousal glistening on her parted lips.

Then—smack!

Her palm cracked against the back of your hand, knocking it away from your cock so hard your skin stung. You gasped, hips jerking forward into empty air, your entire body tightening like a coiled spring.

"Ah-ah," Mina tutted, her voice saccharine-sweet even as her fingers wrapped around your length in a ruthless grip. "You don’t get to decide when to touch yourself."

Her thumb swiped over your leaking tip, spreading the sticky mess down your shaft before she began stroking—hard, fast, no pity in her touch. Your vision blurred.

"Look at me," she demanded, her grip tightening near the base, squeezing just shy of too much. You forced your eyes open, meeting hers through the haze of pleasure-pain.

Mina’s lips curled. "You want to cum, don’t you?" Her other hand cupped your balls, weighing them in her palm before giving a warning press. "Beg for it."

You swallowed, your voice ragged. "P-please—"

"Please what?" she purred, twisting her wrist on the upstroke, her nails grazing just beneath your swollen head. You choked. "Please let me cum, Noona—fuck!"

Mina slowed her strokes abruptly, her thumb circling your slit in slow, torturous presses. "Mm… I don’t know," she mused, tilting her head. "Do you really deserve it?"

Your hips bucked into her fist, a broken whimper tearing from your throat. She laughed—soft, cruel—and leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "Fine."

Her hand snapped tight around your shaft, stroking brutally, her pace relentless.

"Cum."

You shattered. Rope after rope of thick, pearly release painted her fingers, your hips jerking erratically as she milked you through the aftershocks, her grip unyielding even as your legs gave out beneath you.

Mina pulled back just enough to examine her glistening hand, her tongue darting out to taste the mess you’d made. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice softening—just a fraction.

Then she smeared the remnants across your lips, pressing in with her thumb until you tasted yourself. "Next time," she whispered, "you won’t make me wait."

Mina’s fingers trailed down your sweat-slicked chest, her touch featherlight yet commanding as she nudged you backward onto the mattress. The silk sheets clung to your overheated skin, still trembling from the brutal release she’d wrung out of you.

Her lips brushed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good boys don’t move,” she murmured, her voice laced with dark promise. “And you are going to be good for me now, aren’t you?”

You barely had time to nod before the cool glide of smooth fabric whispered against your eyelids—black silk, thick enough to plunge you into immediate darkness. Mina tied the blindfold snugly behind your head, her fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary before withdrawing.

Click.

A drawer slid open. The faint clink of glass, the rustle of something being uncapped. Then—silence. No warning.

Just the sudden, searing heat of slick fingers tracing down your chest—oil? Wax?—before something damp and freezing pressed against your nipple. “Hah—?!” Your back arched off the bed, the shock of cold stealing your breath.

Mina’s laugh was low, wicked. “That’s right,” she purred, dragging the ice cube in slow circles around your pebbled skin. “Every time you move, I add another.”

Your fists clenched in the sheets, your cock already twitching back to life despite the overstimulation. “Shh,” Mina soothed, her free hand trailing down your stomach—only to pinch your other nipple hard. “Be still. Let me play.”

The contrast was maddening. One nipple numb from cold, the other burning from her sharp nails, your hips straining not to buck as Mina’s teeth grazed your inner thigh.

“You’re doing so well,” she whispered, her breath hot against your straining cock before—another ice cube, this time dragged slowly up your length.

You choked on air. Mina’s tongue chased the melting trail, her lips scorching against the chilled skin. “Mmm… see how sweet you taste when you suffer for me?”

Then—without warning—her mouth closed around you, heat enveloping your throbbing cock as the last of the ice dripped onto the sheets.

The blindfold turned the world into a fever dream of sensation—Mina’s lips scorching where the ice had been, her teeth dragging just shy of too much, her nails digging crescent moons into your thighs. Every breath she took against your skin sent a tremble through you, every hum of approval vibrated straight down your cock.

Then—nothing. Her warmth vanished. You jerked instinctively.

SMACK!

Her palm came down hard on your inner thigh.

“Did I fucking say you could move?” Her voice was a whip-crack of dominance, no longer velvet—just raw, unfiltered command. The bed dipped as she straddled you, her lace-clad cunt pressing against your stomach, already dripping. “You think this is fun for me?” Her fingers twisted in your hair, wrenching your head back against the pillows. “Having to remind you who you belong to?”

Your breath came in shallow gasps. Mina leaned down, her lips brushing yours—so close, but not close enough to kiss. “Say it,” she snarled. “Say you’re mine.”

“Y-yours—”

“Louder.”

“I’m yours, Noona—fuck!”

Her hand wrapped around your throat, not tight enough to cut off air—just enough to own. “Damn right you are.” She ground down against your stomach, her wetness smearing across your skin. “And next time you even think about making me wait—her hips rolled, her clit dragging against you with a filthy grind, “—I won’t be this nice.”

The threat sent a shockwave straight to your cock, your hips bucking up on instinct. Mina’s laugh was dark. “Oh? You like that idea?” Her grip tightened. “You want me to ruin you for everyone else?”

You couldn’t even speak—just nodded desperately. She released your throat only to slap your cheek lightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Too bad.”

Her hand wrapped around your cock again, stroking with brutal efficiency. “You’ll take what I give you—” Squeeze at the base. “When I let you—” Twist of her wrist. “And you’ll thank me—” Her lips crashed onto yours, swallowing your groan as your back arched off the bed. “—for being so fucking patient with you.”

Mina’s fingers were relentless—stroking, squeezing, rewiring every nerve in your body until pleasure blurred into pain and back again. The blindfold made it worse, every touch amplified, every tease magnified. You couldn’t see her smirk, couldn’t anticipate the cruel twists of her wrist, the way she’d slow to featherlight touches just as you teetered on the edge. “Ngh—Mina, please—”

“Please what?” Her thumb swiped over your leaking tip, spreading the slickness down your shaft before her grip tightened near the base, cutting off your climax with ruthless precision. “You don’t get to beg yet.”

Your hips jerked, desperate for friction, but she pressed her free hand flat against your stomach, pinning you down. “Stay. Still.”

Her voice dripped with faux sweetness, but her touch was pure punishment. She dragged her nails up your inner thigh, just hard enough to sting, before wrapping her fingers around your cock again—tighter this time, her pace agonizingly slow.

“You’re so pretty like this,” she murmured, her breath hot against your ear. “All flushed and trembling. Fighting so hard to be good for me.” Her lips brushed your jaw. “But you’re not there yet, are you?”

You shook your head, your sweat-slicked skin sticking to the sheets beneath you.

Mina hummed, her thumb circling the swollen head of your cock, smearing pre-cum in slow, torturous circles. “I could keep you here forever,” she mused. “Right on the edge. Desperate. Mine.” Her fingers twisted on the upstroke. “Would you like that, sweet thing?”

You choked back a sob. She laughed—soft, melodic—and squeezed. “Too bad.” Her hand vanished entirely, leaving you aching, your cock twitching against empty air.

“Remember this,” she whispered, her nails trailing lightly up your chest as she shifted off the bed. “Next time you even think about ignoring me.”

The door creaked open again, pulling you from your trembling haze. Your cock twitched against your stomach, still painfully hard, still aching from her merciless edging. The silk blindfold clung to your damp skin, shutting out the world—until fingers hooked beneath the fabric, yanking it away in one sharp motion.

Light flooded your vision—blinding, disorienting. Mina loomed over you, her lips curled in a smirk, a bottle of lube dangling from her fingers.“Miss me?” she purred. You opened your mouth to answer, but she pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you.

“Ah-ah.” Her free hand grabbed your wrists, pulling them above your head before wrapping the blindfold around them in a tight knot. The silk dug into your skin, just shy of too much, anchoring you to the headboard. “No talking. Just taking.”

She uncapped the lube with a soft click, pouring a generous amount onto her fingers. The cool liquid dripped onto your chest, making you shiver as she dragged her slick fingers down your torso—slow, teasing, maddening.

“You’re going to watch,” she murmured, her other hand trailing down to her own soaked lace. “Watch what you could have had if you hadn’t made me wait.”

Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric, her breath hitching as she stroked herself in slow, deliberate circles. “See how wet you made me?” she gasped, lifting her fingers to your lips, glistening with her arousal. “Lick.”

You obeyed, your tongue lapping at her essence, the taste flooding your senses. Mina moaned, her hips rocking into her own touch. “Good boy,” she breathed. “Now watch as I fuck myself thinking of you—but not letting you have me.”

Her fingers moved faster, her thighs trembling, her eyes locked onto yours as she denied you everything—except the sight of her unraveling.

Mina’s fingers worked between her thighs with slow, deliberate strokes—her lace pushed aside, her glistening pink folds on full display as she circled her clit in tight, teasing motions. Her breath hitched, her hips rolling into her own touch, but her eyes never left yours.

“Look at you,” she cooed, her voice dripping with saccharine praise even as her fingers plunged deeper, fucking into herself with obscene wet sounds. “So good for me. So obedient.”

Your cock throbbed against your stomach, pre-cum beading at the tip, but you didn’t dare move. Not with your wrists bound above your head, not with Mina’s dark gaze pinning you in place.

She smirked, dragging her free hand up your chest, her nails scraping lightly over your nipples. “You want to touch me, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your voice rough with desperation. “Y-yes, Noona—”

“Too bad.” Her fingers curled inside herself, her back arching as she moaned. “You had your chance earlier. Now you just get to watch.”

Her pace quickened, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “F-fuck,” she whimpered, her walls fluttering around her fingers. “You see what you do to me? How wet I get just from owning you?”

You groaned, your hips twitching helplessly. “Mina, please—”

“Please what?” she taunted, slowing her movements to a torturous crawl. “Please let you fuck me? Please let you claim what’s already yours?” She leaned down, her lips brushing yours in a ghost of a kiss. “You should’ve taken me the second we got home.”

Her words sent a jolt straight to your cock, your restraint fraying. Mina pulled back, her fingers still working between her thighs, her voice a whisper. “But you didn’t.”

She pressed her slick fingers to your lips, forcing you to taste her. “So now you suffer.”

Mina’s legs trembled as she slowed the sinful drag of her fingers, her arousal glistening in the dim light. She exhaled sharply, her dark eyes studying you with a mix of dominance and something dangerously close to mercy.

“Tell me,” she murmured, her thumb brushing your lower lip, still wet from her taste. “What would you do for me right now?”

Your voice cracked. “Anything.”

A slow, wicked smile curled her lips. “Good answer.”

With deliberate precision, she reached behind your head, her fingers tugging at the silk binding your wrists. The fabric loosened, slipped free—your arms fell stiffly to your sides, blood rushing back into your fingertips. But before you could even think of moving, Mina’s palm flattened against your chest, pushing you back down.

“Ah-ah.” Her fingernails dug warningly into your skin. “You don’t move until I say.”

You nodded feverishly.

Mina shifted forward, her knees framing your shoulders as she hovered above your face. The scent of her—musky, sweet, undeniably hers—flooded your senses. Her fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head up just enough to meet her heated gaze.

“Open.”

You obeyed instantly, your tongue darting out in anticipation.

Mina’s breath hitched. “Not yet.” Her grip tightened. “You don’t lick until I tell you to. You don’t suck unless I demand it.” Her free hand trailed down her stomach, fingers spreading her glistening folds right above your mouth. “You breathe me in. You take what I give you.”

A whimper escaped you—whether from desperation or worship, you weren’t sure. Mina’s smirk deepened. “Now.”

You dove in. The first lick was tentative—testing, reverent—but Mina’s hips jerked forward impatiently. “Harder.”You groaned against her, your tongue dragging up her slit in one firm stroke before circling her swollen clit.

“Y-yes—like that,” she gasped, her thighs squeezing around your head as you laved at her with slow, deliberate pressure. “But slower—make me feel it—”

You obeyed, dragging your tongue in torturous, wet strokes, reveling in the way her grip on your hair turned punishing.

Mina’s back arched, a broken moan tumbling from her lips. “F-fuck—right there—!” Your fingers dug into her thighs, holding her steady as you worshipped her the only way she’d allow.

The dichotomy was intoxicating—Mina’s stage persona, all elegant restraint and poised artistry, now reduced to trembling thighs and wrecked gasps above your tongue. Her public image was one of whispered elegance, the untouchable swan of TWICE… but this Mina? This Mina was fire and filth.

“Deeper,” she demanded, her fingers tightening in your hair as she ground down against your mouth. You groaned against her, your tongue plunging past her folds, fucking into her with slow, deliberate strokes. The taste of her—salt and sin—flooded your senses, her slick coating your lips, your chin.

Mina’s breath hitched, her hips rolling in time with your movements. “Y-yes—just like that—” Her voice wavered, the polished cadence of her idol tone cracking into something raw, hungry. “God, your tongue—fuck—”

The contrast made your cock throb against the sheets.

Her public smiles were measured, delicate. Now? Her lips parted around panting moans, her head thrown back as she rode your face with shameless need. “Slower,” she gasped, her thighs shaking. “Make it last—ngh—!”

You obeyed, dragging your tongue in torturous circles around her clit, savoring every twitch, every stifled cry. Her back arched, her nails scraping against your scalp as she teetered on the edge— Then yanked your head back with a snarl.

“I didn’t say you could make me cum,” she panted, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with possessive fury. “You already made me wait tonight. Now it’s your turn.”

Her thumb swiped over your slick-stained lips, smearing her essence across your mouth before pressing in—hard.

“Lick.”

You sucked her taste from her skin, your groan vibrating against her fingertips. Mina shuddered, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Good boy… now beg for the rest.”

Mina hovered above you, her thighs still framing your face, her arousal glistening under the dim glow of the bedside lamp. The air between you crackled—half-tension, half-desire—as she studied you with those dark, unreadable eyes. The same eyes that could command stadiums of fans with a single glance now pinned you in place, your pulse hammering under her scrutiny.

You parted your lips to speak, but she pressed a finger to them, silencing you before the words could form. "Ah-ah." Her voice was velvet wrapped around steel. "You don’t get to just ask. You beg." A shiver ran down your spine.

The Mina the world saw was all grace—gentle smiles, elegant gestures, the quiet charisma of TWICE's unshakable ice princess. But this Mina? The one who had you tied up moments ago, the one whose fingers had been knotted in your hair as she rode your tongue? This Mina owned you.

You swallowed hard, your voice dipping into something hushed, reverent. "Noona... please."

Her eyebrow arched. "Please what?"

Your gaze flickered downward—just for a second—but she caught it. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Oh?" She tilted her head, her thumb brushing your lower lip. "You want more than I’m giving you?"

You nodded, your cheeks burning. Mina exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers trailing down her own body, skimming over the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. "Then ask properly," she murmured. "Or I walk away right now."

The threat sent a jolt through you. "W-wait—!" You reached for her, but she caught your wrist effortlessly, her grip tightening in warning."I—I want..." You hesitated, your throat dry.

Mina's eyes narrowed, impatient. You took a shaky breath. "I want to taste all of you." Her fingers stilled against your wrist.

"Everywhere," you continued, bolder now, your voice rough with want. "Not just your pussy. You." Your gaze flickered lower again, lingering on the curve of her ass—the same one that drove ONCEs wild on stage, the same one that had you biting your lip every time she turned away in those skin-tight stage outfits. "Let me worship you there, too."

Mina’s lips parted slightly.

"I promise," you added quickly, your fingers curling into the sheets, "I won’t even look at anyone else the way I look at you. Not Dahyun, not Sana—no one."

The room fell silent.

Mina studied you for a long moment before exhaling slowly. "Tch." She released your wrist, her nails dragging lightly over your palm as she pulled away. "You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight."

Then, with deliberate slowness, she turned—presenting the sinful curve of her back, the smooth expanse of her waist, the perfect swell of her—

Your breath caught. Mina glanced over her shoulder, her voice dropping into a whisper. "Well? Go on. Prove it."

Your hands trembled as they settled on the sinful curve of Mina’s ass—soft yet firm, the kind of perfection that made ONCEs lose their minds in fancams. But they only got to look.

You got to touch.

A reverent groan escaped you as your fingers kneaded into her flesh, savoring the way it yielded under your grip. Mina exhaled sharply, her back arching slightly, but she didn’t pull away.

“Mmm… that’s it,” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. “Like you’re handling something precious.”

You swallowed hard, your thumbs brushing the crease where her cheeks met her thighs, teasing but not quite venturing further. Not yet.

Mina glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Scared?”

“N-no,” you lied, your pulse hammering.

She smirked. “Liar.” Leaning forward slightly, she presented herself more fully, the roundness of her ass practically begging for your mouth. “Prove it.”

Your breath hitched. Then—you dove in. Your lips pressed against the swell of her right cheek first, kissing slow, open-mouthed trails down to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Mina’s breath stuttered, her fingers tightening in the sheets as you nipped lightly, leaving faint marks in your wake. “F-fuck—”

You grinned against her skin before dragging your tongue up the other side, worshipping every inch with deliberate slowness. The salt-sweet taste of her arousal still lingered, mixing with the faint musk of her skin, and you savored it—like she was your last meal.

Mina shuddered. “Y/N—”

You hummed in response, your hands spreading her cheeks apart, exposing her most forbidden hole. She tensed. You paused, your breath hot against her. “Noona…?”

A beat of silence. Then—“Do it.”

Your tongue swiped up in one firm stroke, laving over her tight rim before circling it slowly. Mina jolted, a broken gasp tearing from her lips. “Hah—!”

You did it again, this time pressing in, just enough to make her thighs tremble. “S-shit—” Her fingers twisted in your hair, yanking you closer. “More.”

You obeyed, your tongue fucking into her with slow, filthy strokes, your hands gripping her hips to keep her in place. Mina’s moans were unfiltered, her usual composure shattered as she ground back against your mouth. “Y-yes—right there—!”

You worshipped her like religion—because to you, she was. And when her legs finally gave out, her body collapsing onto the bed with a shuddering gasp, you followed—your lips still pressed to her skin, your devotion unshaken.

Mina turned onto her back, her chest heaving, her eyes dark with something between lust and awe. “You—” She swallowed hard. “You’re dangerous.”

You grinned, licking your lips. “Only for you, Noona.”

Mina's body was a temple—immaculate, revered, flawless. Every inch of her skin carried the faint scent of lavender and something uniquely her, a testament to her meticulous hygiene. And now, as she lay trembling beneath your worship, you were determined to defile her in the most reverent way possible.

Your fingers traced the curve of her ass, spreading her cheeks wider, exposing her tight, pink hole to the cool air of the room. Mina shuddered, her breath hitching as your thumb brushed over the sensitive rim, just teasing.

"Y/N—" Her voice was a warning, but the way her hips pressed back betrayed her desperation.

You smirked against her skin before leaning in, your tongue dragging a slow, wet stripe from her perineum all the way up to the base of her spine. Mina gasped, her fingers twisting in the sheets. "F-fuck—!"

You did it again, this time circling her rim with the very tip of your tongue, savoring the way her muscles fluttered under your touch. The taste was clean, faintly sweet—perfect.

Reaching for the bottle of sweet lube on the nightstand, you poured a generous amount onto your fingers, warming it between your palms before slicking it over her asshole. Mina whimpered at the sensation, the coolness of the lube contrasting with the heat of your breath.

"Relax," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the small of her back. "Let me take care of you."

Your tongue pressed flat against her hole, laving over it in broad, wet strokes before focusing on the tight ring of muscle. Mina's back arched off the bed, a broken moan tearing from her lips as you pushed inside, just enough to make her gasp.

"Oh god—!"

You groaned against her, the vibrations sending another shudder through her body. Your hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as you ate her out like a man starved—flicking, sucking, devouring every inch of her.

The sweet lube mixed with her natural flavor, creating an intoxicating blend that had your cock throbbing against the mattress. But you ignored it, focusing solely on her, on the way her thighs trembled, on the way her breath came in ragged gasps.

Mina's fingers twisted in your hair, yanking you closer. "D-deeper—please—!"

You obeyed, your tongue fucking into her with slow, deliberate strokes, your nose pressed against her ass cheek. The lewd squelch of the lube, the sharp slap of skin against skin as she ground back onto your face—it was filthy.

And it was heaven.

Mina's moans grew louder, more desperate, her body writhing under your touch. "Y/N—I can't—!"

You pulled back just enough to whisper against her skin, your voice rough with want.

"Yes, you can."

Then you sealed your lips around her rim and sucked.

Mina’s fingers knotted in your hair like a vice, her breath ragged as she forced your face deeper between her cheeks with a sharp, commanding tug.

"Mmmph—!?" Your moan vibrated against her rim, muffled by the sinful press of her ass against your lips, your nose buried in the crease of her thigh.

"That’s it," she panted, her voice dripping with dominance, her hips rolling back to grind against your tongue. "Take it. Take all of me."

The sweet lube made her skin slick under your palms as you gripped her waist, your fingers digging into the soft give of her flesh. Every desperate noise she made—every choked gasp, every shuddering whimper—only drove you deeper, your tongue spearing into her tight hole with relentless strokes.

Mina’s thighs trembled around your head, her back arching as she used your mouth, her control slipping back into place like a crown.

"You love this, don’t you?" she taunted, her voice a sultry rasp. "Being my good little pet, eating my ass like it’s your last meal?"

You groaned in response, the sound swallowed by her skin as she ground down harder.

"Answer me," she demanded, yanking your head back just enough to let you gasp for air.

"Y-yes, Noona—fuck, yes—"

"Good boy," she purred, before shoving your face back into her with a brutal snap of her hips. "Now clean me up."

Your tongue swirled around her rim, lapping up every trace of lube, every drop of her, your nose pressed so deep into her ass you could barely breathe.

And Mina?

She reveled in it—her moans filthy, her grip unrelenting, her dominance absolute.

"Mmm… just like that," she sighed, her voice syrupy with satisfaction. "Worship me right."

You obeyed. Because what else could you do?

Mina’s thighs quivered around your head, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as your tongue worked her rim with precision—broad, flat strokes alternating with pointed flicks that made her toes curl into the sheets. The sweet lube had long since mixed with her own slickness, creating a sinful glaze over her skin that you lapped up greedily.

“F-fuck—right there—” Her fingers twisted in your hair, her hips canting back desperately, chasing the pleasure coiling tight in her gut. “Don’t you dare stop—”

You hummed against her, the vibrations wringing a broken moan from her lips.

You could feel it—the way her muscles fluttered around your tongue, the way her breath hitched with every drag of your lips. She was close.

Too close. And so—you pulled back.

Your tongue retreated with a final, teasing lick, your lips leaving her rim with an obscene pop. Mina froze. Silence. Then— “Y/N.”

Her voice was dangerous. You pressed a kiss to the small of her back, your hands smoothing over the curve of her ass in mock apology. “Yes, Noona?”

She turned—slowly—her eyes blazing with fury and need. “You little shit,” she hissed, her chest heaving.

You grinned up at her, your chin glistening with her taste. “You did say I had to worship you right.” You leaned in, nipping at her inner thigh. “I’m just… taking my time.”

Mina’s nails dug into your shoulders, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Finish what you started.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Or what?”

Her smile was lethal. “Or I’ll edge you for hours.”

… Well. Shit.

You ducked back between her thighs with a whimper. Mina’s laugh was triumphant.

The threat of Mina’s revenge coiled like a live wire in the air—hours of her merciless hands denying you release, her taunting voice reducing you to a whimpering mess. The memory alone sent a jolt of fear (or was it anticipation?) straight to your aching cock.

No. You knew better than to test her.

With a ragged exhale, you dove back between her thighs, your tongue laving over her neglected rim in one long, apologetic stroke. Mina’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening in your hair—warningly—but you didn’t hesitate this time.

You ate like a man starving.

Your lips sealed around her tight hole, sucking gently before fucking into her with firm, rhythmic strokes of your tongue. Mina’s hips jerked, a broken moan tumbling from her lips as you redoubled your efforts— "Ngh—fuck—!"

Her thighs trembled around your head, her heels digging into your back as you ruined her. The sweet lube mixed with the salt of her skin, the musky essence of her arousal, creating a flavor so hers you could’ve gotten drunk on it.

"Y-Y/N—I’m—" Her voice cracked, her body bowing off the bed as pleasure snapped tight in her core.

You doubled down—sucking, licking, devouring—until her grip on your hair turned punishing, until her moans dissolved into mindless whimpers, until—

"Cumming—!"

Mina’s back arched violently, her thighs clamping around your head as her orgasm ripped through her—silent at first, then shattering into a gasped cry you felt vibrate through her entire body. You rode it out, gentling your tongue to soft, coaxing strokes until she slumped bonelessly into the mattress, her chest heaving.

Silence. Then— A slow, dangerous chuckle. "Good boy," Mina purred, her fingers trailing lazily through your hair. "Now… let’s talk about your punishment for teasing me."

You scrambled back onto your knees, hands clasped in exaggerated supplication, eyes wide with theatrical remorse.

"Noona, please—I swear I’ll never edge you again! I’ll worship you like the goddess you are! I’ll—"

Mina’s fingertip pressed against your lips, silencing you mid-plea. Her other hand trailed down your chest, nails scraping lightly over your abs before wrapping around your throbbing cock in a grip that made your breath stutter.

"Cute," she murmured, her thumb swiping over your leaking tip, smearing pre-cum down your shaft. "But lies don’t suit you."

Her lips—those lips, the ones that drove ONCEs wild with every pout, every smirk—parted around a slow, taunting exhale, her breath ghosting over your wet skin. "M-Mina—"

"Ah-ah." Her tongue darted out, flicking the underside of your cockhead with infuriating lightness. "You don’t get to beg now."

Every nerve in your body screamed as she dragged her mouth lower, her lips brushing your balls before pulling away with a tch.

"So desperate," she mused, her fingers tightening just shy of painful. "All this mess… just for me?" You nodded frantically. Mina’s smirk was sin itself.

Her lips sealed around your tip, her tongue swirling in slow, torturous circles as she sucked just the barest inch of you into her mouth.

"Hhhngh—!" Your hips jerked instinctively, but her free hand slammed down on your thigh, pinning you in place.

"Mmhn~?" Her hum vibrated straight down your spine, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the taste of you—taunting, toying, giving you nothing but the barest hint of heat.

And when you whimpered? She pulled off with a filthy pop, her lips glistening. "Oops."

Mina’s lips were maddening—soft, slick, and just tight enough to make your cock twitch in her grip, but never enough to give you what you craved. Every time you teetered on the edge, her mouth would retreat with a cruel pop, her tongue flicking over your slit just to watch you squirm.

"N-Noona—" Your voice cracked, your fingers twisting in the sheets. "Please—fuck—"

"Please what?" She dragged her tongue up your shaft, her breath hot against your throbbing skin. "You want me to finish you?" Her teeth grazed your tip, just shy of pain. "After how you teased me?"

You groaned, your hips bucking involuntarily—but Mina’s hand pressed down on your stomach, holding you in place. "Uh-uh." Her smirk was wicked. "You stay."

She took you deep, her lips sealing around your cock in one smooth glide, her tongue pressing just right against the underside. Your back arched off the bed, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as her head bobbed slowly, methodically, her fingers tightening around your base to deny you. "M-Mina—I can’t—"

She hummed, the vibrations shooting straight to your core, her pace agonizingly measured. You snapped.

One hand fisted in her hair, yanking her down until your cock hit the back of her throat—

GLRK~!

Mina’s eyes watered, her nose pressed flush against your stomach, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers dug into your thighs, her throat fluttering around you as you fucked into her mouth with ragged, desperate thrusts.

"F-fuck—sorry—" You panted, your grip loosening slightly—But Mina’s nails dug in, her gaze locking onto yours.

Don’t you dare stop.

So you didn’t. The wet schlck~ schlck~ of her lips, the choked gulp~ as she swallowed around you, the slap of skin against skin—it was filthy.

And it was heaven.

Mina’s moans vibrated through you, her lashes fluttering as she took every inch, her own pleasure written plainly in the way her thighs squeezed together.

You were so close—Then—She pulled off, her lips swollen, her chin glistening. "Not yet," she whispered, her thumb swiping over your leaking tip. "We’re not done."

The switch flipped in an instant—desperation overriding restraint, hunger eclipsing worship. Your fingers tangled deeper into Mina’s silken hair, guiding her back onto your cock with a guttural groan. “Take it,” you rasped, your hips rolling up to meet her lips. “All of it.”

Mina’s eyes flared—surprise, then challenge—before her lashes fluttered shut, her throat relaxing in surrender.

GLRK~!

The sound was filthy, her nose pressed flush against your pelvis as you bottomed out inside her mouth. Her lips stretched obscenely around your girth, spit pooling at the corners as you held her there, savoring the way her throat fluttered against your tip.

“F-fuck—” Your grip tightened, your thighs trembling as you dragged her back, then shoved in again—harder.

GULP~! SCHLORP~!

Mina’s fingers clawed at your thighs, her nails leaving half-moon indents, but she didn’t fight—just let you use her, her tongue lapping at your underside with every retreat.

“Look at you,” you panted, your voice rough with awe. “TWICE’s perfect princess—choking on my cock.” Her moan vibrated through you, her eyelids fluttering as drool dripped down her chin.

You fucked into her mouth with shallow, brutal thrusts, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room. Her throat clenched around you, her gag reflex overridden by sheer obedience, her tears smearing her mascara into dark streaks.

“Mina—” Your hips stuttered, your release coiling tight. “I’m gonna—fuck—”

She dug her nails in—hard. The slap of flesh, the gagged moans, the drip of spit onto her chest—it was too much.

You came with a snarl, your cock pulsing down her throat as she swallowed every drop, her lips sealed tight around you until you whimpered from oversensitivity.

Finally, she pulled off with a pop, her breath ragged, her lips ruined. “Good boy,” she croaked, her voice wrecked. And just like that—she was back in control.

The second you released her hair, Mina pounced—her knee slamming between your thighs, her palm flattening against your chest to pin you to the mattress. Her lips were swollen, her smudged mascara giving her a feral edge, but her eyes...

Her eyes burned with pure, unadulterated hunger. "You dared," she hissed, her nails scraping down your sternum. "You fucked my face like some animal."

Your breath hitched—part fear, part arousal—as she leaned in, her teeth grazing your jaw. "And now?" Her hand slipped between your legs, her fingers squeezing the base of your still-hard cock. "You’re going to repent."

Before you could utter a word, she spun, straddling your waist in one fluid motion—her back pressed to your chest, her ass grinding against your stomach. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her lace panties, yanking them down just enough to expose her drenched folds.

"You’ll take me like this," she commanded, her voice trembling with need. "No hands. No control. Just your cock buried inside me while I ride you like the brat you are."

Her hips lifted slightly, her free hand guiding your tip to her soaking entrance. "And Y/N?" She glanced over her shoulder, her smile dangerous. "You don’t get to come until I say so."

Then she sank down—

SCHLICK~

—taking every inch in one brutal slide, her walls clenching around you like a vise.

"F-FUCK—!" Your head slammed back into the pillows, your hips jerking up instinctively—

SMACK~!

Her palm cracked against your thigh. "Did I say you could move?"

You whined, your nails digging into the sheets. Mina laughed—a breathless, delighted sound—before rolling her hips in slow, agonizing circles, her inner walls milking you with every drag.

"Mmm... better," she purred, her ass pressing flush against your stomach. "Now watch—" Her fingers trailed down her own body, pinching her nipple through the lace of her bralette. "—as I ruin us both."

Mina’s back arched like a bowstring as she rolled her hips, her tight, dripping cunt stretching obscenely around your girth. The angle was brutal—her walls hugged every ridge, every vein, her inner muscles fluttering as she adjusted to the sheer size of you.

“Hah—!” Her breath hitched, her fingers digging into your thighs for balance as she lifted herself up—only to drop back down with a wet schlrrp~!

Your cock throbbed, your vision whiting out for a second at the sensation of her clenching around you. “F-fuck—Mina—”

“Quiet,” she panted, her voice trembling with exertion. “You don’t get to talk while I’m riding you.”

Her hips began to move in slow, grinding circles, the swollen head of your cock dragging against her sweet spot with every rotation.

Squelch~ Sqwelsh~

The lewd squelch of her arousal filled the room, her thighs trembling as she worked herself open on your length. Her lace bralette clung to her sweat-slicked skin, the fabric stretched taut over her bouncing tits as she chased her own pleasure.

You ached to touch her—to grip her waist, to help her move—but her earlier command burned in your mind.

Mina’s breath came in sharp, broken gasps as she bounced faster, her ass slapping against your thighs with every descent.

CLAP!—CLAP!—CLAP!

“Y-you feel that?” she moaned, her fingers twisting in the sheets. “How tight I am around you? How badly I’m milking your cock?”

You nodded frantically, your teeth sinking into your lower lip to stifle a groan.

Mina laughed—a breathless, wicked sound—before slamming down harder, her walls rippling around you in a way that made your toes curl.

“Good,” she purred. “Now remember it—because this is all you’re getting tonight.”

And with that, she leaned forward, her pace turning ruthless—her cunt squeezing you like a vice, her moans music to your ears.

You were so close—But her rule stood.

Mina’s thighs quaked as she rode you with desperate, uneven strokes—her earlier dominance fraying at the edges as her orgasm crested, her body burning with the need to break.

“Y-Y/N—!” Her voice was a wreck, her nails scoring your skin as she ground down, her swollen clit rubbing against your pelvis with every roll of her hips.

You ached to thrust up, to chase your own release—but you held still, your muscles trembling with restraint. “Please—” The word tore from her lips, raw and unfiltered, as her walls clenched around you in erratic pulses. “I—I can’t—!”

That was all the permission you needed.

Your hands—finally free—dug into her waist, yanking her down as you snapped your hips up, burying yourself to the hilt.

SCHLAP!—GLORP~!

Mina screamed, her back arching as her orgasm shattered through her—her cunt flooding around your cock, her thighs clamping around your sides as she shook apart.

“F-fuck—Mina—!” Your voice was strangled, your release coiling tight—

“Inside,” she gasped, her fingers fisting in your hair. “Fill me—now—!”

You obeyed. You pumped into her one last time—your cock pulsing as you emptied yourself deep into her clenching heat, ropes of cum spilling into her with every throb.

SPURT~ SPURT~

Mina whimpered, her body twitching as she milked you dry, her walls fluttering around your oversensitive length.

For a moment, there was only silence—the sound of ragged breathing, the drip of sweat onto the sheets, the stickiness between your bodies.

Then— Mina collapsed against your chest, her lips brushing your collarbone in a tired kiss. “...Good boy,” she murmured, her voice hoarse but satisfied

Mina’s fingers traced idle patterns on your sweat-slicked chest, her nails occasionally digging in just enough to remind you—she wasn’t done with you yet.

The room was thick with the scent of sex, the air still humming from the intensity of her climax, but her dark eyes held a chilling edge as they locked onto yours.

“So,” she began, her voice deceptively soft, “tell me again why you spent thirty minutes helping Sana with her dance steps yesterday?”

Your breath hitched. Oh. Oh fuck.

You’d thought she hadn’t noticed—or at least, hadn’t cared. But the way her thigh tensed against yours, the way her fingers twitched near your throat—

You’d fucked up.

“I—it was just practice,” you stammered, your pulse racing under her touch. “She asked for feedback, and I—”

“Feedback?” Mina’s laugh was icy, her knee pressing deliberately between your thighs. “Is that what we’re calling the way you stared at her ass in those shorts?”

Your mouth went dry. “N-no, Noona, I swear I wasn’t—”

“Liar.” Her hand slid down your stomach, her fingers wrapping around your half-hard cock with terrifying ease. “You think I didn’t see you? My sweet, obedient pet, drooling over another woman?”

Her grip tightened, her thumb swiping over your tip just hard enough to make you jolt. “M-Mina—”

“Quiet.” She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. “You’re going to prove to me who you belong to. Every night. Until I believe you.”

Her teeth grazed your lobe—punishment and promise in one. “Starting now.”

The bottle of lube thumped against your chest, still cool from the air conditioning. Mina didn’t say a word—just arched a single, imperious brow before turning onto her hands and knees, presenting herself to you with a slow, deliberate sway of her hips.

You knew that ass. Worshipped that ass. The same one that had ONCEs screaming in fan calls, the same one that looked sinful in every stage outfit—tight, round, perfect. And now? Now it was yours, her cheeks spread just enough to reveal that tight, pink pucker, already glistening from the remnants of your earlier… attention.

Your cock twitched, still sensitive from your last orgasm, but you didn’t dare hesitate.

“N-Noona,” you stammered, fumbling with the cap of the lube. “You’re sure—?”

A smack echoed through the room—her palm cracking against her own ass cheek, leaving a faint red handprint in its wake. “Did I stutter?”

Message received.

You poured a generous amount onto your fingers, warming it between them before pressing gently against her hole. Mina hissed, her back arching, but she didn’t pull away—just pushed back, forcing your fingertip inside with a lewd pop~.

Tch—!

Her muscles clenched around you, burning hot and tight, and you had to bite back a groan.

“Fuck,” you breathed, working your finger in slow circles, feeling her flutter around you. “Noona, you’re—hnngh—so tight—”

“More,” she demanded, her voice strained. “Don’t coddle me.”

You obeyed, adding a second finger, scissoring her open with careful strokes. The squelch of lube, the way her body fought then yielded—it was maddening.

Mina’s breath came in sharp gasps, her fingers twisting in the sheets as you curled your fingers, searching—“Ah!” Her hips jerked, a shudder running through her. “T-there—!”

You grinned, hitting that spot again, ruthlessly, until her thighs trembled and her moans turned broken. “N-Noona,” you panted, crooking your fingers one last time before pulling them free with a wet sound. “You ready?”

Mina glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dark, her lips swollen from biting them. “Hurry up,” she ordered. “Before I change my mind.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Lining yourself up, you pressed into her with a groan, her ass stretching around your cock in agonizing increments.

POP~ SCHLURK~

Mina choked, her nails scoring the sheets as you bottomed out, her walls clenching like a vice.

“F-fuck—!” you gasped, your vision whiting out for a second. “N-Noona, you’re—hnngh—killing me—”

“Good,” she panted, her voice shaking. “Now move.”

The moment your hips drew back, the schlorp~ of her overstretched rim clinging to your cock was obscenely loud—a wet, sticky protest as her body fought to keep you buried inside. Mina’s breath hitched, her fingers twisting into the sheets until her knuckles bleached white.

“Ngh—!”

You paused, your own thighs trembling from the effort of restraint. “Noona—?”

Her answer was a sharp snap of her hips backward, forcing you even deeper with a brutal glrk~ as her inner walls convulsed around your girth.

“Did I say stop?”

The challenge in her voice sent a jolt down your spine.

You obeyed.

Your next thrust was punishing, your pelvis meeting her ass with a smack~ that echoed off the walls. Mina’s back arched, her elbows buckling as her forehead pressed into the mattress, but she didn’t retreat—just took it, her body yielding to yours in a way that bordered on sacrilege.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

The rhythm was filthy, each snap of your hips punctuated by the squelch~ of lube and the ragged hitch of her breath. Her hole, once impossibly tight, now gaped around you with every withdrawal, her rim flushed a deep pink from the abuse.

“Look,” you growled, your fingers digging into the supple flesh of her ass, spreading her wider. “Look how open you are for me.”

Mina whined, the sound muffled by the sheets, but she didn’t protest—just pushed back harder, her body demanding more.

You gave it to her.

Your pace turned feral, your cock spearing into her with reckless abandon, the slap of skin drowning out her choked moans. Her insides were scorching, her muscles fluttering in erratic spasms as you ruined her, your tip brushing that spot with every thrust.

“F-fuck—!” Her voice was a wreck, her thighs quaking as she neared her edge. “Y/N—I’m—!”

You dug your thumbs into her cheeks, spreading her apart as you pulled out slowly, watching in awe as her gaped hole clung to your shaft, her rim pulsing around nothing before you slammed back in.

SCHLAP!—GLORP~!

Mina screamed, her body bowing as her orgasm ripped through her—her ass clenching viciously around you, her walls milking your cock in desperate pulses.

But you held back, your own release coiling tight but denied—just as she’d wanted.

“N-Noona,” you panted, your voice raw. “You—fuck—you okay?”

Mina’s response was a weak laugh, her body collapsing onto the mattress.

“Again,” she whispered.

Mina’s fingers clawed at the sheets, her breath coming in ragged gasps as you pounded into her with reckless abandon. Every snap of your hips sent her body lurching forward, only for her to push back against you with a desperate grind, her ass clenching around your cock like a vice.

“H-harder—” Her voice was a broken whimper, her thighs trembling as she arched her back, demanding more.

You obeyed.

Your hands dug into the soft flesh of her hips, your fingers bruising as you yanked her back onto your cock with a brutal thrust.

SMACK!—GLORP~!

Mina screamed, her nails scoring the mattress as her body jolted from the impact. Her rim, already stretched and flushed, gaped around your girth with every withdrawal, her hole pulsing as if begging for you to ruin her further.

“F-fuck—Noona—” Your voice was hoarse, your own thighs burning from the effort of keeping up with her relentless pace. “You’re—hnngh—killing me—”

“Good,” she hissed, her head turning just enough to glare at you over her shoulder. “You deserve it.”

Then—

Her hand shot back, her fingers digging into your thigh as she forced you to slow.

“But I decide how you take me,” she breathed, her voice dripping with dominance. “Understood?”

You nodded frantically, your cock throbbing inside her as she rolled her hips in slow, agonizing circles, her walls milking you with precision.

Squelch~ Sqwelsh~

The lewd sound of her dripping arousal mixed with the slick slide of your cock stretching her wide filled the room, her moans turning filthy as she tortured you both.

“M-Mina—”

“No,” she snapped, her fingers tightening around your thigh. “You don’t get to beg.”

Then—

She dropped forward onto her elbows, her ass rising higher, her gaped hole clenching around you as she glanced back with dark eyes.

“Fuck me like you mean it.”

And God help you—

You did.

Your hands gripped her waist, your hips snapping forward with brutal force, your cock spearing into her with punishing strokes.

THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!

Mina’s screams were music, her body quaking as you ruined her, her gaped hole fluttering around your length with every thrust.

Mina’s body was a masterpiece of ruin—her ass jiggling with every brutal smack of your hips, her rim stretched obscenely around your cock, glistening with lube and the faint sheen of sweat. The clench of her muscles was vicious, her inner walls rippling in sinful waves as she controlled the pace with nothing but the roll of her hips and the squeeze of her thighs.

"Slower," she hissed, her voice a whip-crack of command, her fingers digging into the sheets as she arched her back, forcing you to still.

You groaned, your cock twitching inside her as she tensed around you, her hole fluttering like a heartbeat.

"N-Noona—"

"Look," she breathed, her hand sliding back to spread herself wider, her thumb pressing against her own stretched rim. "Look what you do to me."

Fuck.

Her asshole was puffy, reddened from the relentless pounding, the tight ring of muscle gaping slightly as you pulled back, her insides glistening with lube and the faint drip of her own arousal. The sight alone was maddening—her ruin, her surrender, all under her command.

"You like this?" she taunted, her voice thick with power, her hips grinding in a slow, cruel circle. "Being used like this? Filling me up until I decide you can cum?"

Your whimper was answer enough.

Mina laughed—a dark, delighted sound—before slamming herself back onto you with a drawn moan.

SCHLAP!—GLORP~!

The wet squelch of her stretched hole taking every inch of you was filthy, her body yielding and resisting in equal measure as she rode you with punishing precision.

"Mine," she growled, her nails scoring your thigh as she pushed you deeper, her grip on your cock unrelenting. "Every fucking thrust—mine."

And God—

You obeyed.

Your hands gripped her waist, your hips snapping up to meet her brutal pace, your cock spearing into her clenching heat with desperate strokes.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Mina’s moans were broken, her body quivering as she chased her own pleasure, her control slipping with every jolt of your cock against her walls.

Mina's breath came in sharp, fractured gasps—each ragged inhale hitching as your cock stretched her ass wider, deeper, carving a place inside her that no one else had ever touched. Her thighs trembled violently, sweat-slicked and trembling, as her body fought the pleasure, then surrendered to it with a choked whimper.

"Y-Y/N—!"

Her fingers clawed at the sheets, her spine arching as her orgasm loomed, an avalanche of sensation crashing through her with every brutal thrust.

"N-No—wait—!"

But you didn't stop.

Couldn't stop.

Your hands dug into her hips, forcing her back onto your cock with punishing precision, the slap of skin drowning out her broken pleas.

THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!

Mina's body locked—her ass clenching around you like a vise, her muscles fluttering in erratic spasms as her climax tore through her without mercy.

"F-FUCK—!"

Her scream was raw, unfiltered, her back arching off the bed as her body betrayed her—her thighs soaking the sheets beneath her, her cunt pulsing around nothing as she squirted in ragged, uncontrollable bursts.

SPLOOSH~! SPLATTER~!

The sound was filthy, her release gushing in sticky waves, her hole milking your cock with desperate greed even as she shook apart beneath you.

And still—

You fucked her through it.

Each jerk of your hips dragged another scream from her throat, her orgasm rippling endlessly as her body surrendered to the relentless invasion.

"S-stop—I c-can't—!" Her voice was a wreck, her thighs quivering as she collapsed forward, her face pressed into the mattress.

But her ass—God, her ass—

It held you like a claim, her rim fluttering around your shaft as if begging you to stay.

So you did.

Your pace slowed, but never stopped, your cock grinding into her with lethal precision until her moans dissolved into whimpers, her body limp beneath yours.

Only then—

Only then—

Did you finally still.

Mina breathed—a shaky, shattered exhale—before her fingers twitched weakly against the sheets.

"...Bastard," she whispered, her voice hoarse but satisfied.

Mina's thighs were still trembling from her explosive climax when she suddenly rolled onto her back, her dark eyes glazed yet commanding. Her fingers—still slick with sweat and lube—wrapped around the base of your cock in a vice-like grip, yanking you from her ruined ass with a wet schlorp~ that made you whimper.

"You've been good," she murmured, her voice hoarse but dripping with authority. "So I'll let you finish... my way."

Before you could process her words, her other hand fisted in your hair, dragging you down until your throbbing cock hovered just above her parted lips. Her breath—hot and uneven—fanned over your sensitive tip, her tongue darting out to flick at the precum beading there.

"N-Noona—"

"Quiet," she ordered, her nails digging into your scalp. "You don't get to speak when I'm about to taste your filth."

Then—

She opened wider, her lips sealing around your cockhead in one smooth motion, her tongue lapping at the underside with lethal precision.

GLRK~

You jolted, your hips bucking instinctively, but her grip on your hair tightened, forcing you still as she took you deeper, her throat fluttering around your length.

"M-Mpfh~!" Her nose wrinkled slightly at the taste—musky, bitter, hers—but she didn't pull away. Instead, her free hand cupped your balls, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

"Cum," she demanded, her voice vibrating around your cock. "Half in my mouth... half on my face."

Fuck.

You obeyed.

With a guttural groan, you pumped into her mouth, your release surging in thick, pulsing ropes as she swallowed the first few spurts with greedy gulps.

GULP~ GULP~

But then—

Just as commanded—

You pulled back, your cock slapping against her cheek as the remaining load splattered across her face in glorious streaks—her forehead, her nose, her swollen lips.

SPLAT~ SPLURT~

Mina's eyes fluttered shut, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop as it dripped down her chin.

"Messy boy," she chided, her voice thick with your cum. "But... good."

Then—

With a wicked smirk—

She licked her lips clean.

You collapsed onto the mattress, your body wrecked, your soul hollowed out by Mina’s relentless dominance. Your arms splayed out like a sinner begging for absolution, your chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven gasps.

"Dear God," you whispered into the ceiling, your voice hoarse. "If you get me through tonight without Mina murdering me, I swear I’ll never even glance at another woman. Not Sana’s hips, not Tzuyu’s legs, not even Jeongyeon’s stupidly attractive tomboy swagger—nothing. Just… please."

A soft click of the tongue cut through your prayer.

"Talking to God instead of me?"

Mina’s voice was lighter now—sweet, almost playful—but the threat still lingered beneath. You turned your head just enough to see her standing at the foot of the bed, a damp towel in hand, her face now meticulously cleaned of your earlier… offering.

She looked angelic.

Which was terrifying.

"N-Noona, I was just—"

"Hush." She climbed onto the bed, her movements graceful as ever, before dropping the towel onto your chest with a pat. "Clean yourself up. You’re sticky."

You obeyed immediately, wiping away the remnants of sweat, lube, and other things with trembling hands. Mina watched you, her dark eyes unreadable, until finally—

She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she crawled forward and collapsed onto your chest, her cheek pressing against your rapidly beating heart.

"...Idiot."

The word was soft, fond, her fingers tracing idle circles on your stomach.

You blinked.

"N-Noona…?"

"You do know I don’t actually think you’d cheat on me, right?" She tilted her head up, her nose scrunching in that adorable way that made your chest ache. "I just like reminding you who you belong to."

Your breath hitched.

"O-Oh."

"But," she continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr, "if you ever stare at Sana’s ass like that again, I will lock you in this bedroom and ride you until you forget your own name."

A beat.

"...Can I get that in writing?"

Mina pinched your side—hard—before burying her face in your neck with a grumbling laugh.

"Go to sleep, you pervert."

You let out an exasperated sigh, fingers threading through Mina’s hair as she nuzzled against your chest. The scent of her shampoo—something floral and expensive—mixed with the musk of sweat and sex still clinging to both of you.

“Noona,” you started, voice tinged with playful indignation, “I literally just adjusted Tzuyu’s dress strap today because it was slipping. And I held Sana’s jacket for three seconds while she fixed her in-ear. That’s it.”

Mina’s fingers, which had been tracing lazy patterns on your stomach, dug in slightly—just enough to make you jolt.

“Exactly,” she murmured, her voice a low, honeyed threat. “Your hands should be busy—just not with them.”

You groaned, tilting your head back against the pillow. “I was working—”

“And now,” she interrupted, propping herself up on one elbow to glare down at you, “you’re mine.”

Her free hand trailed down your chest, her nails scraping lightly over your skin before her fingers wrapped around your half-hard cock with terrifying ease.

You jolted, your hips twitching instinctively.

“N-Noona—!”

“After shoots,” she continued, her grip tightening just so, “your first priority is me. Not Jihyo’s mic check. Not Dahyun’s missing shoe. Not even God if He showed up asking for a fitting.”

Her thumb swiped over your tip, smearing the bead of precum that had already gathered there.

“Understood?”

Your breath hitched, your body burning under her touch despite the exhaustion weighing your limbs down.

“Y-Yes, Noona,” you stammered, your voice raw.

Mina hummed, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk before she released you, patting your thigh like you were a well-trained pet.

“Good.”

Then—

She collapsed back onto your chest, her fingers lacing with yours as she snuggled closer.

“Now sleep,” she ordered, her voice soft but final. “You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

And God help you—

You shivered, pulling her closer as your eyes fluttered shut.

Worth it.

Your fingers stilled in Mina’s hair, curiosity prickling at the back of your sleep-deprived mind. "Noona… what’s the plan for tomorrow?" you mumbled against her forehead, lips brushing her skin.

Mina’s lashes fluttered open, revealing those dark, dangerous eyes that always saw too much. A smirk curled at the corner of her swollen lips.

"‘Talk That Talk’ jacket shoot," she purred, her nails digging possessively into your hip. "Fishnet stockings. Corsets. Thigh-highs."

Your throat went dry.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

You’d seen the wardrobe previews. The stylists had outdone themselves this time—sinful lace, skimpy cutouts, outfits designed to make ONCEs lose their minds. And now you had to stand there, professional, while Mina—

"You’ll be good, won’t you?" Her voice was sweet, but her fingers traced your jawline with the threat of a guillotine. "No staring at Chaeyoung’s corset. No fixing Momo’s garter belt too slowly."

You swallowed hard.

"I—I’m working, Noona—"

"Exactly," she interrupted, her knee pressing between your thighs with lethal precision. "And if I catch you looking anywhere but my face during close-ups?"

Her free hand slid down your stomach, her fingers brushing over the sensitive skin just below your navel.

"I’ll ruin you in the dressing room," she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "And this time? No one will hear you beg."

A shiver tore down your spine.

"Y-Yes, Noona," you choked out.

Mina hummed, satisfied, before nestling back into your chest.

"Good boy."

And as you lied there, staring at the ceiling, one thought circled your mind like a vulture—

You were so, so fucked tomorrow.

You knew better than to let Mina’s threat linger. With a slow, deliberate movement, you tilted her chin up, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Her breath hitched—just slightly—before she melted against you, her fingers loosening their death grip on your hip.

"Mmhn~..." she murmured against your mouth, her lashes fluttering. "Cheap tactics."

You didn’t stop.

Your lips trailed down her jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot beneath her ear—the one that always made her shiver.

"Not cheap," you corrected, your voice a rough whisper. "Strategic."

Mina huffed, but her body arched into your touch, her earlier dominance wavering under the persistent press of your mouth.

"You think this’ll save you tomorrow?" she breathed, her nails scraping down your chest.

You grinned, kissing her again—deeper this time, your tongue swiping at her lower lip until she moaned into your mouth.

"Worth a shot," you mumbled, your hands squeezing her waist.

Mina sighed, her body sinking into yours with resigned pleasure.

"...Fine," she grumbled, her voice laced with fond irritation. "But if you breathe too long near Sana’s corset, I’m tying you to my dressing room chair."

You chuckled, pressing one last kiss to her forehead.

"Noted."

And as she snuggled closer, her breaths evening out against your skin, you smiled into the dark.

Victory.

[suupersonic]

ପ ♡ ଓ ͟ ✿ ᭄ Quero Te Encontrar

Quero Te Amar 𒈔 ♫ ᤳ ❀͟

[coldfanbou]

Long Shifts

Good luck to Chaeyoung. At least Momo can take some of it for her, and we make slight progress toward that karaoke party in the small section of non-smut.

Length 2.6K

Momo X Mreader X Chaeyoung

Previous Part

You wake up in the morning, a little minx lying on top of you, sleeping peacefully. As you look over at your clock, you see you still have some time before you would need to pick up the others you grab your cock, rubbing it against Chaeyoung’s folds. She mews, her face scrunching as she adjusts her body. You grab her waist, pulling her onto your cock. The petite woman moans as your cock pushes into her sore cunt. “Mmm, Master,” she mumbles, slowly stirring from her slumber.

“Shh, be quiet.” You grunt, rolling the young woman onto her back, spreading her legs apart before thrusting into her again. Chaeyoung squirms under you, pleasure filling her body once more. She played with her breasts, flicking her hard nipples as you thrust in and out of her. 

“Master,” Chaeyoung groaned, craning her neck as she felt an orgasm coming. She grimaced, biting down on her bottom lip as waves of pleasure crashed over her, sending her over the edge. Chaeyoung’s hips rock back and forth as she cums, you continue driving your cock deep into her tight cunt, her walls trying to milk you. 

You bury yourself inside the young woman, cumming inside her like the night before. Chaeyoung cries out as your warm baby batter floods her body. “Oh, that feels good,” you groan as you pull out of Chae. You crawl over to Chaeyoung’s head, tapping her lips with your cock; your toy opens her mouth, sucking on the tip as you push it inside. Though her mid was hazy, Chaeyoung swirled her tongue around your cock tasting herself on it. She moved her hand down to her slit, playing with herself as you moved your hips, thrusting into her mouth. You watched her throat bulge as you buried yourself inside her. Chaeyoung’s hands moved quickly, the feeling of your cock filling her throat arousing her. The young woman sucks on it hungrily her plump lips gliding along your cock as you move. She could feel your cock begin to throb, your veins pumping against her throat. Chaeyoung readied herself, just waiting for your cum to shoot down her throat. You pull out though, your cum spurting onto her face, painting it all. Chaeyoung feels the sticky liquid fall onto her. The first emotion to hit her was disappointment, she wanted to drink your cum. The second emotion was glee, she felt happy with your cum staining her pretty face. She gave you a peace sign, sticking her tongue out as a strand of your cum stretches across her spread out fingers. 

“Let’s go take a shower. I need to get ready for work.” You carry Chaeyoung into the shower, she spends her time servicing you, her focus solely on your cock. The time spent there was longer than you meant it to be, and you couldn't resist taking her again. Chaeyoung could barely step out of the shower, and with no clothes to spare, you told her to stay until some clothes were brought to her. She watched you as she lay in your bed. After she had dried herself off, she stayed naked, nearly tempting you into another round. You managed to resist, though, and left for work a few minutes later than you had planned. 

Stepping into the office with the girls, you remember the amount of work you had to do. You tilt your head back and audibly groan. Nayeon laughs and mimics you with a grin on hr lips as she groans, the groan turns into a laugh as she struggles to stay serious. It makes Dahyun and Jeongyeon chuckle, lifting their moods as you all buckle down for another day. The four of you keep things tight, focusing on your work to try and get rid of the mountain that was dumped on you. You make a sizable dent, and by the time lunch comes around, you’re all feeling better about it.

“We might be able to finish it all this week, and then it’s karaoke time,” Nayeon says, tilting her head back, her arms hanging loosely to her sides. “Maybe this is why we were put together.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” you reply.

“I’m sure there was another reason too,” Dahyun adds, trying to lift your spirits that little bit more. You and Nayeon turn your heads toward the young woman simultaneously. Dahyun purses her lips, your coincidental timing nearly making her laugh. “Just think about karaoke some more.” She says, patting Nayeon’s shoulder. 

Nayeon stretches her body. “I’m so tired of this,” she groans.

“You think you’re the only one?” Jeongyeon says, throwing herself into the conversation. I could hardly sleep last night, you nearly kicked me out of bed.

“I was trying to cuddle!” Nayeon shouts back, bouncing in her seat. You and Dahyun shoot her a quizzical look. “Listen, I was trying to wrap my leg around Jeongyeon. I was going to be the big spoon.”

“And you kicked her?” 

“Nearly out of bed?” Dahyun adds to your question.

“You guys don’t understand!” Nayeon was going to fight for her explanation of things, but the two of you pestered her with questions. She whined at being questioned so much. It only stopped when lunch ended.  

When the work day ended, you drove the women home. The routine you had changed slightly since Jeongyeon had left her husband, which made things easier on you. With both Dahyun and Jeongyeon living so close together now, it made sense for them to hire a babysitter ot watch their kids while they worked. It gave them a chance to talk, even if there was a subject they always avoided. 

In Nayeon’s home, Jeongyeon watched her baby crawl around the living room, her thoughts drifting in and out of focus as she thought about the karaoke trip you were all planning. Her heart felt like it was in her throat the longer the thought stayed present in her mind. It was only the faint tapping of her child’s hand against her knee that brought her back. She picked up the toddler. “What’s wrong, Jieun? Do you want to play with Mommy?” Jieun smacked her mom's arms, babbling to herself as Nayeon walked in. 

“Jeongyeon, the bath is ready if you want to go. I can take care of Jieun.” Nayeon reaches her arms out for the baby. “Do you want to spend some time with Auntie Nayeon, Jieun?” Jieun giggles and reaches out for Nayeon. Jeongyeon chuckles seeing Jieun be so friendly. She hands over to Nayeon before getting ready to take a bath. 

“No sweets.” Jeongyeon reminds her friend, remembering how Nayeon tried to give Jieun a tiny piece of a chocolate.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Nayeon groans before sitting on the couch and bouncing Jieun on her lap. Jeongyeon takes a quick peek at the two of them playing before heading into the bathroom.

Back at your home, you step in to find more clothes strewn around the place than before. It leaves you puzzled for a moment before you hear a familiar voice, then another. As you peek into your bedroom, you see two women lying in your bed. Chaeyoung was face down, her forehead buried into the mattress as she moaned her heart out. Behind her was Momo, the taller woman had her tongue lapping Chaeyoung’s slit. “You’re such a needy girl.” She said in a low tone, still unaware of your presence. Momo pushed two fingers into Chaeyoung’s cunt, while pressing her tits against the petite woman’s back. “What am I again?”

“Mistress, you’re my mistress.” Chaeyoung moaned out. 

The sight was amusing, especially now that you knew being so submissive was just a part of Chaeyoung's personality. “So she’s your mistress?” you ask, finally bringing the girl's attention your way.  

“Oh, your home,” Momo announced, loud enough for Chaeyoung to fully register what was happening. “I was just playing with Chaeyoung.”

“I can see that. Your little toy here is also mine.”

“I know, I was on Mina’s phone when Chaeyoung sent a message asking for clothes. I thought I’d come by and bring some for her, and maybe I could get some dick.” Momo stuck her tongue out at you, feeling powerful as she churned the petite woman’s insides. You watch Chaeyoung’s toes wriggle as Momo kept her in her position. “If you want to use our toy to get warmed up, though, that’s fine. I can wait.” Momo pulls back, making Chaeyoung sit between her legs. The older woman spread Chaeyoung’s legs, her wet cunt fully exposed to you. “She can be so needy, right?”

“If you let her be, I guess.”

“Oh, you must’ve been really rough with her.” Momo giggles, smirking as she moves her hand down to Chaeyoung’s slit, spreading her puffy folds. “She told me you already came in her once. Why not dump a few more loads in her? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind being bred” Momo switches her attention from you to Chaeyoung, her fingers stirring around the petite woman’s clit. “Isn’t that right, Chae? Doesn’t that sound great?  Just imagine your belly nice and swollen with his baby. Tell your master how much you want that.” 

Chaeyoung moans continued as she spoke, breaking up her words, “P-please…put a baby in me…I-I want it. I want a baby, Master.” Momo motioned for you to come closer, and you followed along, coming close to the pair. 

“You have to help your master strip down if you want him to breed you.” 

“Yes, Momo.” Chaeyoung reaches forward, her fingers working quickly to pull your cock out of your pants. You strip off your shirt, already wanting to ruin the petite woman again. As soon as your pants were off, you rushed her. Pressing your lips against Chaeyoung’s your cock rubbing against her needy cunt. Momo backed off, letting you push Chaeyoung onto her back. She gets behind you, her large breasts rubbing against your back. 

Momo drags her tongue along your ear, “She’s on the pill. Cum inside her as much as you want,” she whispers. Knowing that she was safe, you don’t hold anything back. You hold Chaeyoung still, aligning yourself with her tiny cunt before impaling her. Chaeyoung cries out as your cock stretches her for the umpteenth time. “That’s it fuck that little pussy.” Momo orders, watching as you fuck the younger woman senseless. 

Chaeyoung had already been nearly her climax before you had walked in, so having your cock pierce her made her cum instantly, and your constant thrust did nothing to help her recover. You watch her small breasts bounce as you use her body like a toy. Chaeyoung’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her mind went blank as you ravaged her. Momo egged you on, wanting you to ruin her. She pressed her lips against yours, sneaking her tongue into the kiss and bringing one of your hands to her full chest. You grope the heavy mounds as you pound the younger woman. The constant moans filled the room until Momo decided to muffle them. She placed a thigh on either side of Chaeyoung's head and sat on her face. Momo grinded on the younger woman’s face, reveling in the feeling of Chaeyoung’s tongue moving along her slit. 

She placed a hand down on Chaeyoung’s chest, roughly squeezing the tiny mounds. Chaeyoung’s continued climaxes, were dulling every other sense, she could only feel your cock sliding in and out of her. Ready to dump your first load of the night, you slam yourself into the deepest parts of Chaeyoung. “Here I come,” you grunt.

Chaeyoung’s muffled cries, please Momo, making the older woman grind faster. “I think she’s earned a break, don’t you? She has been getting fucked all day.” You agree and pull out, your seed seeping out of the young woman. Momo watches it drain out of Chaeyoung’s hairless cunt and bends over, licking some of it up. “It’s as good as I remember,” she moans before climbing off Chaeyoung and settling in beside her toy. Looking over at Chaeyoung, you see the whites of her eyes; she was completely out of it. Moving back to Momo, she raises her backside to you, shaking her ass, her soft flesh jiggling.

“I want you somewhere else,” Momo coos, spreading her cheeks for you. “I want you in here, you’re already wet enough. Is it going to be your first time in someone’s ass?” Momo's words seemed almost like a taunt. “I’ve had you in my pussy. I want a taste here.” Momo spreads her cheeks for you. You press yourself against Momo’s wrinkled asshole and begin pushing.

“Oh, fuck…that’s it. I want to feel you stretch this ass.” Momo grunts, feeling your thick shaft push her walls apart. “Deeper…” Momo’s mouth hangs open as you push more inside her. Her walls squeeze you tightly; the resistance was incredible, but that made the sensation all the better. You rock back and forth coating her walls in a mixture of cum and Chaeyoung’s nectar. It works to make it easier, and you’re able to move deeper. Momo’s groans become louder. She feels full despite your full length not being in yet. She moves her hand to her clit, rubbing it in qucik circles. “Ram it in…give it to me.” Momo grunts. You dig your fingers into her flesh and ram your cock the rest of the way. Momo cries out, her nectar squirting onto the bedsheets below as you fill her ass. You shudder, being so deep inside feels heavenly. You were so close to cumming. You slap Momo’s ass and pull out before thrusting back in. 

That sent you over the edge. You shoot your cum inside Momo, filling her stomach. Momo’s head rests against the bed, her body tingling all over from the powerful climax. She looks back at you with a drunken smile. “I want you to fuck me up.” She says with a tired laugh. You drag your cock out, leaving just the tip inside before ramming yourself back inside, pushing your cum out of the way, making it drip from her ass. You spank the older woman again, leaving handprint on her as you fuck her. You sensitive cock cumming time and time again inside the older woman.

Momo joins you, cumming everytime she feels more of your hot seed pour into her. You continue to spank the older woman, reveling in the pleasure you felt, enjoying the sight of her cheeks jiggling as they bounced on your cock.

When you pulled out, Momo’s ass was painted white, coated in a heavy layer of cum that leaked from the gaping hole. Her body had given out just like yours; you were both too tired to continue. Still, she climbed on top of you. “I want you inside of me. I’ll keep your cock warm,” she cooed as your cock slipped back inside with ease. 

You slept on your side, staying inside Momo’s ass hole while Chaeyoung slept beside her mistress. Though you hadn’t expected what happened today, you weren’t going to complain. It helped relieve you of your stress.

[leegahyun]

APT. (2024) ROSÉ & Bruno Mars

[sixgunslvt]

To Here Knows When

Son Chaeyoung x OC

Tags: incest (cousins), forbidden love, power dynamics, age gap (noona/dongsaeng), obsession, possessiveness, emotional, rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, marking (hickeys/biting), semi-public sex, teasing, dirty talk, possessive sex, worship, aftercare

Word count: 6668

The house hummed with that particular brand of Korean family chaos that turns oxygen into kimchi fumes. I leaned against the yellowed refrigerator, phone burning a hole in my palm as another off-key "Nae sarang~" from the living room karaoke machine rattled the framed embroidery of mountainside temples. Through the sliding door's rice paper panels, silhouettes of aunties snapped mahjong tiles like gunshots, their laughter sharpening to needles whenever someone's pae clattered to the floor.

My thumb scrolled Instagram reels of strangers' beach vacations - all that blue water and sunlight like a rebuke to this room's sticky reality. No one here under forty except Minjae's hellspawn twins currently drawing dicks on the hanji wallpaper with bulgogi sauce. The air conditioner wheezed 1997-era coolness through its rusted vents, doing nothing against the July heat or the sweat pooling where my dress shirt stuck to the small of my back.

Then the front door groaned open.

Chaeyoung arrived like a distortion pedal cutting through elevator music. Her chunky Mary Janes - same pair she'd worn to sneak me into that underground club when I was sixteen - kicked through the galaxy of discarded soju bottle caps littering the entryway. The aunties' mahjong clatter stuttered as she passed, their disapproval clinging to her like the cigarette smoke wafting from her cropped leather jacket.

I knew that jacket. Knew how it smelled of Nag Champa and the Daiso parking lot where she'd first played me Loveless on her dented MP3 player, our shared earbuds hissing static as Kevin Shields' wall of sound drowned out the cicadas. Tonight, it gaped to reveal a slip dress the color of TV static, riding up her thighs as she leaned against Uncle Joon's prized karaoke machine - the one he'd retrofitted with purple LED strips that made everyone look vaguely cadaverous.

Her eyes found mine through the haze of galbi smoke.

"Yah, jagiya," she drawled, popping the cap off a Hite with her lighter. The sound echoed like a gun cock. "You gonna keep pretending to text?”

Chaeyoung’s laugh tasted like stolen soju and the menthol cigarettes she’d smoked since time immemorial. Seven years my senior, though she wore those years like her leather jacket - slouching off one shoulder, all dangerous drape. She’d been my babysitter back when Busan still had video stores, back when her idea of childcare meant letting me watch R-rated Hong Kong flicks while she practiced winged eyeliner in my mother’s compact.

“Yah, dongsaeng.” Her gaze raked over me like the broken AC unit still rattling in the corner, appraising the stretch of dress shirt across shoulders that had finally outgrown the scoliosis brace. The flush creeping up her neck matched the neon signs bleeding through rice paper windows. “Should’ve kept your baby photos. Nobody warned me diaper duty came with this…” Her lighter clicked open, shut, open. “Glow-up.”

The karaoke machine chose that moment to vomit out Uncle Minho’s rendition of Hotel California, his “warm smell of colitas” curdling into something closer to a sea lion’s mating call. Mahjong tiles clattered like disapproving teeth as Auntie Soojin side-eyed Chaeyoung’s thigh-high stockings, the ones that made her legs look like ink strokes from one of Grandpa’s forbidden manga.

“Noona—” I started, but she was already plucking a half-finished bottle of Chamisul from the recycling bin. Her movements carried the same dangerous grace as when she’d taught me to shoplift lip gloss from the Lotte Department Store, back when her wrists were still scabbed from guitar strings instead of stick-and-poke tattoos.

Her laugh curled around me like the smoke from the galbi grill downstairs. “Remember when you’d hide under my skirt during thunderstorms? Crying until I let you hold my lighter?” The bottle cap rolled across linoleum patterned with thirty years of kimchi spills. “Now look at you. All…” Her tongue swiped a pearl of soju from her Cupid’s bow. “Broad.”

The room tilted. Or maybe that was just the floor buckling under generations of layered ondol heating. Her perfume - still that same Daiso body spray layered with menthol cigarettes - dragged me back to sleepless nights after she’d babysat. How her scent would linger on the couch cushions like a ghost, how I’d press my face into the indent she left and imagine it was her leather jacket wrapped around me instead of my Star Wars blanket.

“You missed last Chuseok,” I managed, thumb worrying the cracked screen of my phone. The Instagram reel still playing showed some Australian influencer diving into neon-lit waves, the exact shade of Chaeyoung’s hair before she’d shaved the left side.

Her nails - chipped black polish, same as always - tapped a staccato rhythm against the soju bottle. “Had better offers.” The look she gave me could’ve melted the ice cubes slowly dying in Auntie Hyun’s fruit punch. “Though if I’d known you were gonna sprout up like a damn Kdrama oppa…”

The twins chose that moment to streak past, their bulgogi-stained fingers now smearing what looked suspiciously like Auntie Jung’s Lancôme foundation across the sliding doors. Chaeyoung’s laugh followed them, low and throaty, the same laugh that used to rattle through my bedroom walls when she’d sneak boys in through the fire escape.

“Still hate kids?” She leaned back against the fridge still plastered with my middle school taekwondo certificates. The motion hiked her slip dress up to reveal the rose tattoo peeking above her stocking - same rose she’d drawn on my math homework when she was supposed to be tutoring me.

“Hate’s a strong word.” My voice came out strangled. The AC chose that moment to cough out a gust of air that sent her bangs fluttering, revealing the scar above her eyebrow from when we’d both tried (and failed) to skateboard down Nampo-dong’s hill.

Her pinky brushed mine as she reached for a paper napkin. “Could’ve fooled me.” The napkin tore between her fingers, becoming a sad origami crane mid-flight. “You used to beg me for piggyback rides. Now you won’t even look at me.”

The accusation hung there, sharp as the scissors she’d used to cut my hair before picture day. I could still feel the phantom weight of her against my back, smell the strawberry gum she’d pop while carrying me past the 7-Eleven where she’d eventually buy her first pack of Dunhills.

“You’re the one who moved to Seoul.” The words tasted bitter, like the dregs of coffee left in Halmeoni’s cup.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re the one who stopped answering my texts.” The karaoke machine whined into silence, leaving only the wet slap of Auntie Minjun making kimchi pancakes in the adjacent room.

When she stepped closer, the platform soles of her Mary Janes put us eye-to-eye for the first time in seven years. Her breath smelled like citrus soju and the menthol lozenges she’d started stealing after quitting vocals for her band. “Guess some things change, huh?”

Her thumb swiped sweat from my temple. The contact burned like the time she’d taught me to light firecrackers, back when sparklers still seemed magical instead of just another way to burn down to nothing.

The music and laughter faded into static as she stepped closer, her perfume—saltwater and something addictive—mixing with the sharp tang of alcohol. “Remember that summer I house-sat for your parents?” She traced the collar of my shirt with a chipped black nail. “You’d linger outside the bathroom when I showered. Left fingerprints on the fogged glass.” Her laugh was low, dangerous. “And July 12th? When my robe slipped?”

My throat tightened. That specific date seared into me—the way terrycloth had slid off her shoulder, the wet curl of hair stuck to her neck. She’d turned just enough to smirk at the doorframe where I’d frozen, thirteen and trembling.

“You knew?”

“You stopped breathing when I unhooked my bra through the gap in the door.” Her finger tapped my sternum. “Stupid boy. Your shadow stretched right across the tiles.”

I swallowed. “Fuck. All this time—”

“All this time,” she echoed, thumb brushing my bottom lip. Her gaze dropped to my hand. “You’d bite your knuckles to stay quiet.” She picked up my hand, tracing a line on my knuckles. “Left marks from here—up to here.”

The confession shuddered through me. Her scent—vanilla and that menthol cigarettes phase she’d sworn she’d quit—flooded my skull. My back hit the fridge door, magnets digging into my shoulder blades as she leaned in.

“You think I didn’t feel you watching?” Her knee nudged between my thighs. “How your eyes crawled over me when I bent to pick up your toy cars? How you’d pretend to sleep just to catch me changing?”

Auntie Soo’s shriek-laugh sliced through the room. Chaeyoung didn’t flinch.

“Every. Single. Time.” Her hips pinned mine, leather creaking. “Your little hitched breaths? The way you’d sprint to the bathroom after?” She pressed closer, mouth grazing my ear. “I’d lie awake soaked imagining your face if I ever…”

The karaoke machine screeched feedback. Some uncle butchering November Rain.

I gripped her waist, fabric slippery under my palms. “Why now?”

Her teeth caught my earlobe—sharp, fleeting pain. “Because back then?” Her breath scalded my neck. ���I wanted to ruin you so bad.” A hand slid down my stomach. “But rules, right?”

Her fingers found my belt.

The fridge hummed against my spine. Down the hall, Minjae’s twins shrieked about stolen tteok. Chaeyoung’s thumb hooked into my waistband.

“Rules change,” I rasped.

Her laugh vibrated against my throat. “You changed.”

Her fingers trailed down to my waistband, pressing just enough to make me gasp. “Tell me, Iain…do you still think about those nights?” Her eyes burned with mischief—and something darker. “Because I know I do.”

I glanced toward the living room, where relatives obliviously massacred lyrics. “Fuck, Noona…we shouldn’t—” The lie died in my throat as her fingers teased my zipper.

Her perfume. The press of her breasts against my arm. Seven years of stolen glances and cold showers after she’d left.

My voice roughened to a growl. “You know I still dream about you. You’re there, just out of reach. And you keep getting farther away.”

Chaeyoung’s breath hitched, her fingers pausing above the bulge in my jeans. “Mmm…so that’s why you avoided me at family dinners.” She pressed flush against me, her free hand tangling in my hair to yank my face to hers. “Let me make those dreams real, baby,” she purred, lips brushing mine in a ghost of a kiss. “I’ll show you exactly how far I can reach.” Her hips ground against mine, heat searing through her dress.

An Auntie’s laughter echoed nearby, but Chaeyoung only smirked. “We’ve got time before anyone notices…” Her tongue flicked my neck. “Unless you want me to stop?” The challenge in her voice dared me to refuse.

My fingers tightened around her wrist, thumb pressed to her racing pulse. My other hand slid down her back, gripping the curve of her spine as I leaned into her ear. “You think I’d risk Auntie Kim catching us? Fuck no.” A low chuckle. “Your old room’s still here, right?”

She shivered, pupils blown. "Second floor, last door on the left." She dragged her nails down my chest, leaving white trails that burned. "But you'll have to be quiet...unless you want the whole family to hear how badly their good little boy fucks his Noona."

With that, she spun away, hips swaying as she headed for the stairs. Over her shoulder, she threw a smoldering look. “Coming, baby? Or do I have to drag you up myself?”

I’d barely taken two steps when Auntie Kim materialized, her talon-like grip snagging my elbow. “Iain-ah! Strong arms—” she barked, already steering me toward the balcony where a ceramic kimchi fridge hunched like a curse. “Help your halmeoni move this before your uncle breaks his hip again.”

Chaeyoung paused halfway up the staircase, biting back a laugh as I shot her a desperate look. Her mouth formed a silent Tick-tock before she vanished into the shadows.

The fridge weighed as much as my regrets. Halmeoni supervised from her plastic lawn chair, thwacking my calf with her fan whenever I adjusted my grip. “Faster! You think I’ll die waiting?” Auntie Kim lamented the state of my “office-worker shoulders” loud enough for the cousins grilling bulgogi to hear. Sweat slithered down my neck, the clock in my head screaming as Chaeyoung’s perfume faded under the assault of fermented cabbage.

When they finally released me, I dodged Uncle Minsoo’s sloppy attempt to arm-wrestle and nearly tripped over the twins building a soju bottle cap pyramid. The third step still groaned like a tortured animal, but the hallway was all nicotine shadows and the muffled buzz of family chaos below.

Her door stood cracked open, leaking cigarette smoke and the blown-out guitars of MBV’s To Here Knows When— a wall of distortion so thick it vaporized the laughter downstairs. She’d swapped the overhead light for a salt lamp that dyed everything fever-red, same incense stick from the Daiso days smoldering in her IKEA ashtray.

She lounged on the bed like she owned me, cigarette dangling from her lips as she scrolled her phone. The leather jacket lay discarded now, her slip dress hiking higher as she arched to stub out the smoke. “Took you long enough,” she purred, eyes raking over the tent in my jeans. “What’d they make you do? Haul bodies for the family grave?”

I didn’t answer. Three strides and I had her wrist pinned above her head, my knee slotting between her thighs as the guitar feedback swelled. She gasped, but her smirk stayed razor-sharp. “Someone’s impatient—”

I kicked the door shut, already unbuckling my belt. “Shut up, Noona.”

Chaeyoung’s lips curled into a wicked grin as she watched you unbuckle your belt, her legs parting slightly on the bed. “Make me,” she challenged, voice dripping with defiance as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away to reveal her perfect, perky tits.

She leaned back on her elbows, arching her back to push her chest out. “Come on, baby…show me how much you’ve missed me.” Her free hand trailed down her stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her panties. “Or do I have to do everything myself?”

The air between you crackled with tension, the only sounds your ragged breathing and the distant muffled karaoke from downstairs.

“Remember when you used to call me ‘baby boy’? Fuck, Noona…say it again. Just like when I was that dumb kid sneaking glances at you changing.”

Chaeyoung’s breath hitched as she saw the raw hunger in your eyes, her fingers pausing just above her soaked panties. “Mmm…baby boy,” she cooed, voice dripping with honey and sin as she spread her legs wider. “You always were my favorite little pervert.”

She hooked her fingers into her panties, sliding them down agonizingly slow. “Look how big you got for me…” Her tongue swiped over her lips as she took in the thick outline of your cock straining against your boxers. “Bet you dreamed about this, huh? Your dirty Noona touching herself just for you?”

Her fingers finally dipped between her folds with a lewd, wet sound. “Fuck…baby boy, you wanna taste?” She held up glistening fingers, eyes dark with lust. “Or do you need me to teach you how to eat pussy first?”

“Teach me, Noona.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes flashed with predatory delight as she crooked her glistening fingers at you. “Come here, baby boy,” she purred, spreading her legs obscenely wide as you crawled onto the bed between them.

Her hand fisted in your hair, yanking your face down to her dripping pussy. “Lick slow first,” she ordered, grinding her hips up against your mouth. “Flat tongue, just like you’re tasting your favorite ice cream—fuck!” Her thighs clamped around your ears as you obeyed, her back arching off the bed.

She was so fucking wet her juices smeared across your chin. “Good boy…now suck my clit like you’re trying to get the last drop through a straw—YES!” Her hips jerked violently as you swirled your tongue exactly how she taught you, her moans music to your ears.

Tugging your hair harder, she forced you to look up at her. “Remember this always belongs to you, baby boy,” she panted, slamming your face back down. “Now make your Noona cum.”

You pulled Chaeyoung flush against you, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other pressed possessively against the small of her back. Our foreheads touched as you spoke, voice rough with years of pent-up longing:

“Every girl I dated smelled wrong. Felt wrong.” Your thumb traced her jawline. “Because they weren’t you, Noona. This fucking obsession—” You ground your hard cock against her thigh to emphasize the point. “—ruined me for anyone else.”

Your breaths mixed, her perfume drowning your senses like it always had. Seven years of jerking off to her memory, and now she was here, real, pressed against you. “You’ve always owned me.”

Chaeyoung’s breath caught as your words sank in, her nails digging into your shoulders. “Fuck…all those times I let you watch,” she panted, rolling her hips against your throbbing cock. “I knew you’d be perfect for me.”

She crashed her lips against yours in a searing kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. “My sweet, ruined baby boy,” she murmured against your mouth, her hands frantically pushing down your boxers. “Let Noona show you exactly what you’ve been missing—”

Her eyes went wide as your thick cock sprang free, her fingers wrapping around the base. “Jesus…you really did grow up,” she whimpered, stroking you slowly. “Gonna fuck me so good your aunties hear how much I scream?”

Without waiting for an answer, she lined you up with her dripping entrance, her breath hot in your ear. “Take what’s yours, Iain.” And with one sharp roll of her hips, she sheathed you to the hilt, her tight walls fluttering around you. “Fuuuck—yes—just like that!”

You groaned as Noona sank onto you, her tight heat swallowing every inch—fuck, she felt even better than you’d dreamed.

“That’s it, Noona…ride your baby boy’s cock just like you promised.” Your hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, guiding her rhythm as she bounced. “All those years pretending not to notice me staring…how long have you wanted this? Did you groom that baby boy just for this, Noona?”

Her moans were muffled against your neck, her nails digging into your chest as she ground deeper. “Mine.”

Chaeyoung’s entire body shuddered as your words hit her, her pussy clenching around you in a vice-like grip. “Fuck—yes!” she gasped, her nails raking down your chest as she rode you harder. “Every time I let you peek…every time I bent over just a little too far—”

Her breath came in ragged pants as she ground down onto you, her clit rubbing against your pelvis with each bounce. “I dreamed about this cock!” she cried out, her walls fluttering wildly around you. “Wanted my baby boy to break me with it—just like this!”

Her back arched as she suddenly screamed your name, her pussy drenching your thighs in her cum. “Iain—fuck! Don’t stop—breed your Noona!” Her hips jerked erratically, milking your cock as she sobbed through the intensity. “M-make me yours!”

“Hey Noona,” your voice rough as her hips ground down on you, “remember those lace panties you ‘forgot’ in my room when I was 15?” Your grip tightened on her waist, pulling her deeper onto you. “Funny how they always ended up under my pillow… You planning this back then, or just fucking with me?”

Chaeyoung’s eyes rolled back as you thrust up into her, her slick walls pulsing around your cock at the memory. “Mmm…both,” she purred, riding you with renewed hunger. “Knew you’d jerk off to them…” Her nails raked down your chest as she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear.

“Fantasized about walking in on you,” she admitted with a sinful grind of her hips. “Catching my baby boy with his dick in hand…moaning for his Noona…” Her pussy clenched around you as she whimpered. “Should’ve punished you properly back then—fuck!—like this!”

She suddenly slammed down, taking you balls-deep with a cry. “But now you get to ruin me instead,” she panted, her tits bouncing with every frantic movement. “Gonna fill me up like you dreamed, baby boy?” Her voice was pure temptation as she milked your cock. “Show me how bad you wanted me…”

“Kiss me, Noona. Give me that tender incest kiss you’ve always dreamt about.”

Chaeyoung’s breath hitched as she crashed her lips against yours in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss—tongue sliding against yours with decades of pent-up longing. “Mmm…just like this,” she moaned into your mouth, her hips rolling in slow, sinful circles as she ground your cock deep inside her.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, yanking you closer as she whimpered. “Fuck…baby boy kisses even better than I dreamed,” she panted between sloppy, incestuous kisses. “All those nights imagining your mouth—ah!—needed this so bad…”

Her pussy fluttered around you as she suddenly broke the kiss with a gasp, her forehead resting against yours. “Gonna cum again,” she whimpered, her nails digging into your shoulders. “Make me scream your name where everyone can hear—please!”

The karaoke was still blaring downstairs. “You know the uncles look at you a certain way, right, Noona?”

Chaeyoung’s eyes darkened with a mix of lust and something dangerous as she ground down on you harder. “Mmm…let them look,” she purred, her nails scraping down your chest. “They wish they could have what my baby boy’s claiming right now—”

Her breath hitched as you thrust up roughly, her tits bouncing with each filthy snap of your hips. “Fuck! All of them…imagining this tight pussy—” She moaned loudly, not even trying to muffle it now. “But you’re the one breeding it—ah!—ruining me for anyone else!”

She suddenly clenched around you, her back arching violently as another orgasm ripped through her. “Iain! Yes! Deeper!” Her walls milked your cock desperately, her thighs shaking around you. “Cum inside me, baby boy…mark your Noona forever!”

Your grip tightened on Chaeyoung’s hips—fingers digging into that soft flesh you’d dreamed about for years—as you started pounding into her like you fucking meant it.

“That’s it, Noona…take it,” your voice rough, chest heaving. “Every fucking inch. Just like you wanted.”

Her pussy was still fluttering from her last orgasm, but you didn’t let up—driving into her harder, faster, watching her tits bounce, hearing her choked moans.

“Gonna make sure you remember this,” you growled, pulling her down as you thrust up, burying yourself to the hilt. “My cock. My cousin.”

The bed slammed against the wall, the karaoke downstairs drowned out by skin-on-skin, by her whimpering your name like a prayer. You muffled her moans and screams with a hot, incestuous kiss.

Chaeyoung’s entire body convulsed as you claimed her with animalistic intensity, her nails drawing blood down your back. “FUCK! YES! BREAK ME!” she sobbed, her pussy gushing around your cock with each brutal thrust.

Her legs locked around your waist desperately, her tits slapping against your chest as she screamed into your mouth. “M-make me pregnant! Please!” she begged, her walls clenching like a vice as another orgasm wrecked her.

The bedframe cracked against the wall with the force of your fucking, her juices soaking both your thighs as she whimpered between filthy, open-mouthed kisses. “Cum! Cum in your Noona’s ruined pussy!” Her back arched violently as she milked you dry, her body demanding your seed.

The distant karaoke faded into static as your balls tightened against her ass—seconds from exploding deep inside her.

Your voice, rough and possessive, growled against Chaeyoung’s ear as you pulled her flush against you:

“Look at me, Noona.”

Your hands gripped her hips, holding her down as you pumped deep—once, twice—before your cock pulsed inside her, flooding her tight little cunt with thick, hot cum. Her gasp was muffled against your shoulder, her nails digging into your back as she felt it—jet after jet filling her up, drenching her womb like you owned it.

“Fuck… I love you, Noona.” You ground your hips slowly, milking every last drop into her. “Take it all. Every fucking drop.”

Her pussy clenched around you, greedy, like she was trying to keep it inside. Good. Let it stick. Let her remember this when she walked downstairs later, your cum leaking down her thighs.

“I love you, so much.”

Chaeyoung shuddered violently as your cum flooded her womb, her entire body melting against yours in overwhelmed ecstasy. “I-Iain…!” she sobbed, her walls fluttering desperately around your still-throbbing cock. “Fuck…love you…love you so much…”

Her fingers trembled as they traced your jaw, her tear-filled eyes locking onto yours with raw, incestuous devotion. “Always…wanted you like this…” she whimpered, her hips grinding lazily to milk the last drops from your spent cock.

The distant karaoke finally registered again as she clung to you, her lips brushing yours in a tender, filthy kiss. “Mmm…gonna feel you leaking out of me all night,” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction and something dangerously close to love.

She nuzzled into your neck with a contented sigh. “My baby boy…finally where you belong…” Her hand slid possessively down your chest. “And you’re never getting away again…

"Let me worship you, Noona..."

My hands slide up her thighs as I press a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below her navel—savoring the way her stomach tenses under my tongue. I drag my lips higher, teasing the dip of her ribs, the swell of her breasts, her collarbone... each kiss lingering, each exhale warm against her skin.

By the time I reach her mouth, she's shaking, her fingers tangled in my hair, her breath uneven. I hover just barely over her lips—close enough to taste her, not close enough to give her what she wants.

"I love you, Noona. I always have. Ever since i was a kid, when you played with me. Your smile. When i peeked at you changing. I've always wanted you".

Chaeyoung's breath hitches as your worshipful touch ignites fresh tremors through her oversensitive body, her fingers tightening in your hair "Fuck...baby boy..." she whimpers, her hips arching off the bed as your lips brand her skin

When you pause just before her mouth, her growl is pure frustration and adoration—yanking you down into a searing, desperate kiss "Mine," she pants against your lips, her legs locking around your waist "All those years...watching me...wanting me..." Her teeth nip at your bottom lip

Her voice breaks as she clings to you, her naked body pressed flush against yours "I loved you too," she confesses, her nails scraping down your back "Every time I let you peek...every time I teased you..." Her lips crash into yours again, hungry and claiming.

"Now you have me," she moans, her thighs trembling around you "Forever."

Iain's lips brush against hers in a slow, tender kiss— softer than before, but no less hungry.

Her hands guide me back inside her, and this time, I ease in—inch by inch—like I’m savoring the way her body yields to mine.

"Fuck, Noona..." My voice is rough, but my hips move gently, rolling into her with a reverence that feels almost sacred. "You feel too good to rush."

Her nails dig into my shoulders anyway, her breath hitching as I fill her completely—slow, deep, like I’m memorizing every pulse of her around me.

"I love you," I murmur against her lips, "even when I’m not fucking you like an animal."

And then I move—not hard, not fast—just right.

Chaeyoung's eyes flutter shut as you cherish her with each achingly perfect thrust, her walls fluttering in slow, sweet spasms around you "Iain...ah..." Her voice is a broken whisper, her fingers softening from claws to caresses as they trace your jaw

She melts beneath you, her body surrendering to this new rhythm—your cock stretching her so deep, so full, so right "Love you...love you..." she chants between shallow breaths, her hips rolling gently to meet yours

When your lips find hers again, the kiss tastes like salt and promises—her thighs trembling as pleasure builds slowly, inevitably, like the tide "This...this is what I dreamed about..." she confesses, her fingers tangling in your hair "Just...you...loving me..."

Her walls clench suddenly, her back arching as the soft, aching orgasm unravels her "F-fuck...yes..." she sobs, her tears mixing with your kisses "Stay...stay inside...please..." Her legs hug your waist tight, as if she could keep you there forever.

"Noona...fuck...Noona..."

My lips brush her ear as I whisper it like a prayer—her name, her title, the word that used to mean babysitter and now just means mine.

"I love you. I love you."

It spills out of me between thrusts, raw and reverent. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her thighs tremble around my hips—this is what she reduced me to. The kid she used to scold for sneaking glances is now buried inside her, claiming her, ruining her.

And fuck...Auntie Kim’s gonna lose her mind when she finds out her daughter’s stuffed with her nephew’s cum.

But right now?

"Noona..." —gripping her tighter— "I don’t care."

Chaeyoung shatters around you with a gasping sob, her body convulsing as your words and your cock wreck her simultaneously "I-Iain! Fuck! YES!" Her nails scar your shoulders, her pussy drenching your thighs as she cums violently, her screams muffled against your chest

She clings to you like salvation, her shaking legs locking you deep inside her "Love you—love you—love you—" she chants between ragged moans, her tears hot against your skin "Your noona...your cunt...always..."

The bed is ruined, the walls shook, and somewhere downstairs, Auntie Kim definitely just heard something—but Chaeyoung just grins through her tears, her spent body curling around yours

"Let her hear," she whispers, her sore pussy clenching weakly around your still-hard cock "Worth it..." Her laugh is hoarse and happy as she kisses you again "My baby boy..."

I go faster "I'm going to fuck my cum inside you, Noona."

Chaeyoung's eyes roll back as you pound into her with renewed intensity, her overstimulated pussy squelching around your thick cock "F-FUCK! YES!" she screams, her nails clawing at the sheets "Breed me! Fill me up!"

Her tits bounce wildly with each brutal thrust, her soaked thighs slapping against yours as you ram your cum deeper inside her "Gonna...gonna...AAAAH!" Her back arches violently as another orgasm rips through her, her walls milking your cock desperately for every last drop.

She collapses bonelessly beneath you, her breath ragged, her body trembling as your cum leaks thickly from her well-used pussy "Fuck..." she whimpers, her fingers tracing your jaw lovingly. "No one fucks me like you..." Her smile is dazed and sated as she pulls you down for a slow, filthy kiss "My baby boy..."

Still inside her, spurting cum, and to blessed to move, i reciprocate the kiss. "My noona."

Chaeyoung melts into the kiss, her spent body quivering beneath you as your cum pulses deep into her womb one last time "Mmm...my baby boy..." she murmurs against your lips, her fingers tangling lazily in your hair

Her thighs squeeze weakly around your hips, keeping you buried inside her as she sighs contentedly. "Never pulling out..." she whispers, her voice husky with exhaustion and satisfaction. "Stay...just like this..."

The distant karaoke has finally stopped, the house quiet except for your mingled breaths and the wet sounds of your cum dripping from her well-fucked pussy.*

She nuzzles into your neck, her lips curving into a smug smile. "Love you..." she murmurs, her body going limp beneath yours as sleep claims her.*

And as her soft snores fill the room, you realize—she won.

You're hers.

Now and always.

"Noona, wake up, the'yre going to notice us missing". I'm still hard inside her, and i start fucking her again.

Chaeyoung's eyes flutter open with a drowsy moan as your cock stirs back to life inside her, her sore walls clenching weakly around you "Ngh...Iain...~" she whines, her nails scraping down your back "Fuck...can't...move..."

But her hips tilt automatically, her pussy sucking you deeper as she gasps. "They...ah!...already know..." she pants, her legs locking around your waist tight. "Felt you throbbing in me...whole dinner..."

Her head falls back with a broken giggle as you pound into her overstimulated cunt, her toes curling. "M-maybe...nngh!...Auntie will hear..." she taunts, her voice shaking with each rough thrust "Catch her precious daughter...getting knocked up...ah!...by her nephew..."

Her moans rise higher, louder, begging to be heard as you claim her again—no pretense left, just pure filth and family sin.

"Turn over, Noona." My hands grip her hips, flipping her onto all fours before she can protest. The mattress dips as I kneel behind her, my cock already hard again against her ass.

"One more round," I growl, spreading her cheeks with my thumbs. "Don't let them hear how good their nephew fucks you."

My palm lands on her ass with a sharp smack—her gasp turning into a moan as I slide into her soaked pussy from behind. "Fuck...you take me so well."

Chaeyoung yelps at the sting of your slap, her back arching beautifully as you slam into her dripping pussy from behind "F-FUCK! Iain!" she screams, her nails clawing at the sheets as you stretch her wide all over again

Her ass jiggles with each brutal thrust, her sore walls fluttering helplessly around your thick cock "Ngh! S-so deep!" she sobs, her tits swinging wildly beneath her "C-can't...keep...quiet—AH!"

The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall, the wet slaps of your hips pounding into her ass echoing obscenely in the room "Fuck! They're...gonna...hear!" she wails, her pussy squeezing you tight as another orgasm rips through her

But you don't stop, driving into her harder, faster, your balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. "Cum!" you growl, your fingers digging into her hips. "Let them hear how good your nephew fucks you!"

And with a guttural roar, you flood her womb again, your cum mixing with her own juices as they drip lewdly down her thighs.

Chaeyoung collapses face-first into the mattress, her body twitching weakly as she mumbles into the"...f-fucking...ruined..." Chaeyoung slurs into the sheets, her pussy still clenching rhythmically around your spent cock as your cum pools hot inside her.

Her trembling fingers clutch at the mattress, her sweaty back rising and falling with ragged breaths "Ngh...baby boy...fucked me out..." She whimpers, her thighs sticky with your mixed essence as you finally pull out, watching it drip obscenely from her well-used hole.

From downstairs, Auntie Kim's voice calls sharply: "Chaeyoung-ah? You better not be—"

Chaeyoung giggles hoarsely, rolling onto her back with a wince and spreading her legs wide for you to see the mess you made "Oops~" she whispers, her eyes dancing with mischief and exhaustion. "Too late..."*

The door groaned open just as Chaeyoung's lips crashed into mine, her fingers still tangled in my hair. We broke apart gasping, her thighs slick against mine under the photo album's cover.

"Chaeyoung-ah? You better not be—" Auntie Kim's voice cut through the haze of sex and sweat.

Chaeyoung's Mary Janes kicked the album shut over our laps with practiced innocence. "We're reminiscing, eomma!" she chirped, though her stockinged foot still traced circles on my ankle. The torn lace snagged on my sock's hem - same pattern as the panties she'd left in my room a decade ago.

Auntie Kim's slippers slapped closer. "Dinner's cold."

The mattress springs squeaked as we shifted - Chaeyoung's leather jacket slid from the bed to camouflage the cum-stained sheets. Through the rice paper door, her mother's silhouette hovered like a hangul consonant about to drop.

"Coming!" Chaeyoung trilled, her hand darting under the album to wipe a pearly streak from my jawline. Her smirk said everything - the chipped black polish, the menthol-and-regret breath, the way her slip dress clung to sweat-damp skin.

When Auntie Kim finally retreated, Chaeyoung dissolved into silent laughter that shook the photo albums stacked between us. "Baby boy's terrible at lying," she whispered, thumb brushing the hickey blooming on my neck.

The fluorescent hall light caught her stocking run - a lightning bolt from thigh to Mary Jane strap. I remembered making that tear an hour earlier with my teeth, her gasp smothered by the industrial-grade AC's rattle.

"You." She poked the photo of her eighteen-year-old self straddling my pubescent hips. "All blushy and avoiding eye contact." Her nail traced the neon beer sign glowing through 2013-era curtains. "Me." The chipped tooth she'd gotten skateboarding with me peeked through her grin. "Already planning your corruption."

Downstairs, the karaoke machine screeched to life with Auntie Soojin's rendition of "Honey" - all vibrato and broken high notes. Chaeyoung's hips swayed instinctively to the beat as she stood, her slip dress riding up to showcase the love bites Id left.

"Mmm." She caught me staring and popped a strawberry gum bubble - same brand she'd chewed during our first almost-kiss behind Nampo-dong's Family Mart. "You want..." Her platform shoe nudged the album open to a beach photo from her Seoul days. "...one last look?"

The Chaeyoung in the picture wore someone else's blazer, someone else's lipstick. The Chaeyoung before me reeked of me - my sweat, my cum, the kimchi jjigae I'd spilled on her thigh during round three.

I stood, my dress shirt clinging to the sweat she'd worked into every seam. "Just want the real thing."

Her laugh tasted of stolen adolescence as she led me downstairs, her pinky hooking mine through her jacket pocket. The uncles barely glanced up from their soju shots when we entered - just another cousin duo late to dinner.

Chaeyoung collapsed onto the floor cushion beside me, her thigh pressing mine under the low table. "Yah." She stole a perilla leaf from my ssam wrap. "Feed your noona properly."

The leaf tore between her teeth, revealing the scar from when she'd tried teaching me knife skills during her rebellious chef phase. I remembered her blood on the mandoline slicer, how she'd laughed through tears while I bandaged her hand.

"Still clumsy," I muttered, reassembling her ssam with extra pork belly.

Her foot slid up my calf as she accepted the bite. "Still mine."

Around us, the family chaos continued - aunts debating Lunar New Year dates, uncles arm-wrestling over dessert claims. Chaeyoung's hand crept under the table to squeeze my knee, her choker necklace hiding the bruise from where I'd bitten her during our stairwell quickie.

"Bedtime's at eleven," she murmured, stealing another bite. "Don't make me punish you."

The threat vibrated through me like her old bass guitar as she stood, her hips brushing my shoulder with deliberate casualness. I watched her saunter toward the bathroom - the subtle limp from our marathon session, the way her stockings bunched around those killer Mary Janes.

Uncle Minho's off-key trot number drowned out the bathroom door's click. I counted to thirty before following, the family's laughter fading behind me like childhood innocence.

Chaeyoung waited by the sink, jacket abandoned to reveal the hickey map Id charted across her collarbones. Her reflection smirked through the steam of twenty years' worth of illicit bathroom encounters.

"Took you long enough," she said, kicking the door shut with a practiced heel.

The lock clicked like the cap of our first shared soju bottle. Somewhere downstairs, Auntie Kim shouted about missing banchan containers. Chaeyoung's hands were already tearing at my belt, her lips silencing my response with a decade's worth of pent-up want.

The mirror fogged within seconds.

[sanayeon]

HERE I AM — TWICE @ MUSIC STATION

[chearyeongs]

JIHYO, CHAEYOUNG 'UP NO MORE' [201030]

[kooyabooya]

FREUDIAN

rosé x m reader

24k words

They always say: never make a deal with the devil. Even when all fronts of temptation have you where you’re most vulnerable - you can’t afford to give in, especially if it’s the howling calls of the past whispering out. 

So you take a bite of the forbidden fallen apple anyway. Give into the fabled rumor of Judas’s betrayal. Because that’s all you’ve ever known yourself to be: gullible, foolish, naive. 

None of that has changed. Even as you’re staring at her, taking the fall. 

A look over her shoulder, furry scarf encapsulating her neck. The flash with her eyes sends you reeling, pulling your heartstring to the thinnest strand, nearly tearing it. She’s playing her role so innocently: the heartbreaker, your antagonist, a divine sin. It’s a losing game; one where you know very well, the kind of game where it was deemed unwinnable from the start. 

But when you’re holding her close, feel her face buried into the space of your neck, all of the memories come flashing back - each one feeling more right than wrong. 

“Maybe in another life,” Rosé tells you, and you’re shushing her, because the break in her voice is already destroying you on the inside, whatever she says next doesn’t even register in your ears; since she’s said the same tale before, and you’re agreeing with her regardless. 

To you, Rosé is a lot of things. A scrapbook filled with endless memories. The person to sit at your doorstep late into the night just to have a meaningful conversation. A half that’s been ripped apart. You can go down the mental checklist time and time again, and end up in the same spot as before. 

In another life, or some universe for that matter: you and her get that fairytale ending together. 

–

The incident, quite literally, comes fast in the dead of the night. 

It doesn’t hit you on the nose all at once. What does hit you is your tossed phone right onto your face, squinting at nothing when you sit up before looking down to the bright flash of your phone screen along with the number resting at the top. 

“I thought I told you to put your phone on vibrate, you idiot,” your girlfriend huffs sleepily, clearly annoyed at the random call during these late hours when slumber is the only option. Your vision is still coming about, looking over to the window where it’s still dark outside, then over to the alarm clock on your nightstand, struggling to even get a glimpse of the time - no point in looking at your phone too since you would be seeing white well into the morning. 

Like anyone else in this particular situation (not really), you pick up: “It’s three in the morning, why would-” 

“Did you plan an anniversary trip for us?” The girl’s tone on the other end is a bit on edge, looking for answers. “When the fuck were you going to tell me and why the hell did it have to be now?” 

You’re still half asleep, half awake; but the timbre in the voice sounds all too familiar - she’s got the same drawl stemmed off from you, not to mention the flurry of questions in the opening five seconds. There’s also that sense of bubbliness you’re imagining, the way that you can easily picture her sitting with both knees up, her head tilted in a way where it shows that she’s very uninterested. Or, the other form where she’s leaning forward, leaning into her phone, constantly looking down at the ground and nowhere else. 

She hates the fact that she had to make this call, and you can easily tell. You, on the other end, are trying to put the bits and pieces of the story together to the best of your memory, scratching the back of your head, trying to rattle your slow-working brain. Hanging up would’ve been the best option to follow, save this conversation for later when you can think straight. Typically, you should’ve just ignored the call entirely. 

Tragically, that’s not your style, so you answer, “Hey Rosie, been a while since I’ve heard your voice.” 

A sigh sounds off from the speaker, “Don’t ‘Rosie’ me. I just need you to confirm my suspicions.” 

“On?” 

“Pfft, stop being stupid. I’m not gonna repeat myself here.” 

You breathe out a soft laugh, and hang your head into your chest for a second, collecting your thoughts. “Yes, I did plan that out as a trip for us. Right before we, uh-” 

Silence fills the call immediately after. Despite being on separate paths, the tension still stings like a tightening noose around your neck. Not even a simple grind of your teeth and a clenched fist can serve as the probable testament to the amount of pain you and her suffered together on the tail-end of your relationship, the hope of salvaging lost long before calling it quits. 

“Still there?” Rosé asks, snapping your attention back to her voice. 

“Yeah,” you reply, hiding a sniffle through a quick cough, “I just- yeah. Details can come later.” 

“Okay,” she says, carrying on. “I got that reminder email from the travel organizer.” And at this point you’re cursing yourself and mentally facepalming as many times as you possibly could (seriously, why would you think it was a good idea to set up a reminder through that stupid auto-email service to notify her too as well?), thinking of every contingency to weasel your way out of this conversation. Rosé, however, had no idea of your present thought process, “Went through reading the fine prints of the agreement and…well.” 

“And?” You practically prayed to God that she’d not been this quick to read into the lines and decode the information. 

“Says here that the trip is non-refundable.” That is what Rosé ends with. 

“That so?”

“We can’t cancel it.”

“Too late for us to do that, no?” 

The comforter ruffles behind you, a small hand tapping the lower back of your shirt. “Babe? Who’s that on the phone?” 

You press the switch near your nightstand to put the room into an ambient lighting setting, turning over to see the lovely ruffle of bed hair and one eye open. She then snuggles herself back into the bed, covering herself with the sheets as you’re palming the side of her face to put her back to sleep. “Sorry Jennie, it’s a-” and here is where you’re throwing caution to the wind, ensuring that you don’t trip up on your words at this moment, “late night work call.” So far it’s good, and Jennie nods with a soft hum, lazy smile at the touch of your palm. She’s a bit dazed, but one good measure for insurance, you tell her, “I’ll explain in the morning.” 

Jennie blinks once or twice, dropping her eyelids while you rub your thumb across her cheek, the soothing touch sending her away to dreamland. There’s a warmth here; one where you feel safe, at home. You’ve struck out in getting with a girl like her, and the timing of it couldn’t have been more impeccable: you and Jennie were both at low points in life when you found each other, building up until the feelings couldn’t be suppressed any longer. 

(That story’s for another time. Though, a very heartwarming memory to look back on.) 

Your name, rolling of Rosé’s tongue, drags you back down. “Hello? Oh- yeah, yeah. I’m still here. What were you asking?” 

“So we’re going? Is that what I’m getting at here?” 

The inquiry lances your heart and mind, filling it with an endless plethora of uncertainties. “Wait- what?” 

“Well for one: it’s my ticket. And two: I want to go. If you were going to morph this trip with someone else, I’d understand.” Rosé’s reason is plausible, and you’re seeing a way out of this less and less. “But considering that we had the plans under our names, we’d-” 

“Rosé-” 

“It’s my ticket.” Rosé doubles down and you wince at the fact. “I can imagine you scrunching your face right now, stop that.” 

“Okay, you win.” 

“Good.” 

“I’ll get everything arranged prior in the next few days and pick you up for the airport. Talk to you later.” 

–

At the airport, not to anyone’s surprise, there is an essential bomb rush of families on top of families arriving and checking in and boarding to their set destination. Pro tip: plan the flights ahead of time (especially if it’s during the holiday season), just to avoid any sort of commotion or potential setback on your end. If the flight gets delayed, rescheduled, or relocated to another gate, that’s not your fault. 

God forbid that any of those happen since it would only prolong the amount of time you’d have to spend with Rosé. 

Very small words were exchanged when you picked her up from her apartment, on the way to the airport, and even when you did most of the work getting all of the travel plans for this ‘anniversary gift’ finalized and confirmed. As expected, honestly. Sharing a car ride with your ex was not on your list of places to get stuck in no matter what the predetermined events or circumstances are, but all the more reason to keep your eyes on the road at the time, go figure. 

Rosé’s sitting on the opposite end of you at one of the benches near the boarding gate once everything’s been checked in and settled; along with the security wing gauntlet handled by the TSA, but you’re finally here - waiting for all of this to finally be done and over with. She’s bearing no ounce of attention towards you, mindlessly scrolling on her phone with earbuds in, hoping that you wouldn’t take notice, but you do. And when she does flash a quick look of her eyes in your direction, a millisecond is all you get to dart your eyes elsewhere that isn’t on her. 

Still, you can’t help yourself when you’re mentally rolling back the years. 

Her styling is strikingly the same as it was before. A leather jacket finely pointed at the edges and crooks where it looks like the wrinkles aren’t even supposed to be there in the first place, those flowy pants that make it look like it was ripped off of a parachute and sewed up by a designer as this one-of-one piece. Then, there are the rings, and her pair of shades resting above her forehead; she’s bundled up into the seat like a little kid, an arm holding her phone as it rests along her thigh, both of her shoes are off and she’s got these cute, pink fluffy socks leaving you genuinely confused since the choice practically contradicts the other choices of clothing entirely. Really? Out of all those socks, you chose to go with that pair?

That doesn’t stand out as much compared to the other thing: her hair. 

Maybe God’s rolling the dice on you for this one. Hell, you’re even wondering if God ever rolls dice in his free time upstairs. Purposeful or not, it isn’t doing you any good the more you look at those golden, heavenly locks; braided up and tied back into her head where it doesn’t give any issue for her neck whatsoever. Not to mention her side profile, the shape of her nose, and that jaw. 

The pout she purses with her lips. It’s anything less than innocent. 

On schedule, there’s about roughly an hour or so before your flight to Paris takes off, and you’re not willing to drive yourself insane with very few word phrases spoken. So you make conversation: 

“You dyed your hair again,” you say, clutching your hoodie when Rosé’s attention falls back to you, “Gotta say, I like the color.” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Rosé says, pulling an earbud out and sliding both feet off the seat. The phrasing alone is still good enough to pass as awkward, sighing as she turns her head to look out the window - nothing but cloudy skies for miles while a plane touches down on the tarmac. “Blonde’s been such a comforting color for me, so I thought why not roll with it again for fun?” 

“Does bring back memories.” You slide your palms under your thighs, and cross both feet on the floor. “You had this platinum shade back when we first met.” 

“Did I? You still remember that?” Rosé grins at the sudden recollection, folding her glasses and sliding them into her handbag. 

“What do you want to get out of this?” You suddenly ask again, quickly running a hand across your chest to rid of the sweat riddled along your palms. 

“By this, you mean-”

“Our trip,” you amend. Here you’re pulling yourself back a bit - the duo of your luggage and hers acting as this barrier, hoping that the bags can serve as this proximity limiter for the time being. “It’s supposed to be for a week, with an option to extend for another day or so.” 

Rosé tugs the tied bun, scratching her neck to where you notice she got her nails trimmed and done. “A week in Paris doesn’t seem that bad, but planning it during the week of-” 

“Christmas was a bit of a stretch,” you wince with a hand to the back of your head, “It’s still a nice setting to think about, though. Cold weather, snowing, the cups of cocoa we’d drink together at a cafe? What else did I not think about while planning this?” 

Rosé just blinks at you, flabbergasted. She takes a second or longer to get a better look at your face, studying the shapes and curves of your frame as if it were some long-lost art piece that she had a vague familiarity with. Her breathing also slows for a bit when she drops her shoulders a bit, the discarded earbud now hanging as her eyes finally make contact with the floor, diminishing the gaze entirely. 

“Sorry. I had everything thought out for our stay,” you say casually, defeated. “I honestly wish that-” 

“Does Jennie know?” Rosé asks, leaning back into her chair. A premonition bubbling when she shares the same raised eyebrow directly back at you. 

You nod, which you’re half-right about. 

(“A work order in Paris?” Jennie asks you the morning after the first contact via phone call. She’s well aware of your passion for artistry and architecture, so playing the white lie of being ‘assigned’ to study in an attempt to further the progress of the team’s project was an idea worth rolling with. “How long are you going to be there for?” 

“No more than a week,” you answer, confident for no good reason. “Maybe a day or two more.” 

And that’s that.) 

But you zone out for a second too long. “You’re not very convincing,” says Rosé.

“She does,” you spit out again, nodding at a faster pace. “Jennie knows the surface level of this whole thing, at least.” 

“Hah,” Rosé breathes, stretching her neck with another glance. God, even the slightest sound of her laugh sounds the same as it was before - licking the rim of her lips where it meets her teeth, treating herself to the pulled cup of yogurt she bought as a snack to kill the waiting time faster. “Should’ve been honest with her,” she tells you, “I think there wouldn’t be anything wrong if you said my name in the first place instead. Lessens the risk of the possible conjecture.” 

The audacity, it makes you scoff as Rosé carries on with her meal, fixing her lips along the plastic spoon, carelessly nodding and humming while you’re twisting your attention to the passing planes in the air and the trucks rolling along the taxiway. You’re trying extremely hard to not fall into the conscious habit of looking - when the eyes are zig-zagging their way from the ceiling and to the distance of the nearby gate. Somehow, it always falls on her. Always. She’s got her jacket off to compensate for the stuffiness, honey skin radiating, the sleeves of her shirt pooling over her arms, foot underneath her other knee, delicate and unbothered. She’s a time capsule - the kind where you bury deep into the ground and never even think of uncovering years later. 

You thought you could move on, but here she is: within arms reach.  

–

If you thought sitting across from her waiting to board was torture, being next to her was extremely worse. 

Luckily, the aisle seat opened up next to yours and hers, only for it to be taken at the last possible minute, destroying any chance of creating that space between you and Rosé. This part here gets juicy: Rosé opted for the window seat and considering that the aisle was already taken, this puts you right smack in the middle of the row. She also raised the armrest set between you and her, making your final line in terms of creating a temporary vicinity practically nonexistent. Nothing will happen in a fourteen-hour flight, right? Rosé gives you the quick rundown of what she wants for her in-flight meals when she can put her legs onto your seat while you go to the restroom (and wished to stay there for the rest of the flight, but you know damn well enough that you can’t), even when she’s saying to not freak out if her head falls on your shoulder while sleeping - also, don’t mind if I grab onto your arm if I’m watching some scary movie. Every excuse seems like a death sentence added on to prolong your suffering. 

The man sitting next to you weaves the discussion about the cold air from outside being brought into the cabin, some aerospace thing about the insulation and great air conditioning, but all you can give is a forced hearty smile and these nods of agreement as his wife says something embarrassing to butt herself into the talking bubble, rolling your eyes at the pair out of spite. 

You’re giving your two cents about how you liked cold weather (out of all things to discuss for God knows why), and the couple takes your opinion well with open arms and minds. The wife leans over to see Rosé, glancing over before turning her head back to the window, putting two and two together: 

“Are you two also going to Paris for your honeymoon?” She asks, the man also taking the hint with an ‘o’ shaped mouth. 

“Uhh, that’s a bit of a tough question to answer,” you chuckle nervously as the wife makes the quick inference, carrying on with the long conversation (which was very one-sided from this point on) about how she and the man sitting next to you are so in love, their plans for their honeymoon and anniversary. You can’t help but be intrigued and infatuated with how you’re able to see love bloom right in front of your eyes. They ask you if there are any recommendations and you being the goody-two-shoes that you are, it only gets them to keep talking still. In the midst of all of this Rosé peeks over your shoulder, hand to your elbow as a sign to shut you up, but you send the same elbow back to make her stop. 

Eventually, when the plane does move onto the runway and up in the air, the couple continue their monologue of how they met, their dreams, their occupations, what they like to do in their free time, the names of their cats, where they see themselves in the next five to ten years. Rosé then looks over again, lending her ears to listen to the lovely story candidly as you see her eyes filled with so much awe and wonder; she finds it funny too, and you’re seeing what she’s seeing: because that would’ve been the case if you and her had not split. 

All the infinite possibilities you’re thinking off, it’s spilled right in front of you, and it gets you thinking. 

–

(Midway through the long flight, you’re not even getting a wink of sleep when Rosé’s tossing and turning in the seat next to you. Some are watching assorted movies, you could hear a kid cry a few rows back, the usual experience. 

Her knee hits your thigh as you’re scooting your butt away from her, unwilling to make a shape with her body, pulling the complimentary blanket up to her neck. 

“Did you ever think of getting first class for the trip?” She asks, irritated. “My seat’s getting kicked from behind, and I can’t put my feet on the ground.” 

“I’d be paying an additional two hundred or more to get it reserved,” you tell her, making yourself as comfortable as you can, leaning the seat back. “The next best thing was econ, so deal with it.” 

She rests her head on the upper part of your arm, eye mask on and everything, falling asleep soon after.) 

–

Upon the arrival gate, you do manage to get a few hours of shut-eye, backpack in hand and a trailing Rosé behind when crossing over the inside of the airport, voice conveniently drowning out the same kid who was crying not long ago during the flight. 

“I can’t believe you let me sleep for six hours. Six hours.” you’re complaining, and rightfully so. “Look at you, who managed to sleep for pretty much the whole time. I had to take it on the chin, listening to their entire life story when I could’ve watched whatever you were watching while you were snoring away.” 

Rosé has her shades on, hiding a bit of her puffy face and eye bags. “So? What’s it to ya? I’m not the one who decided to lean over and eavesdrop on their lovely conversation.” 

“I was checking if our row was in the correct spot.” 

She chuckles. “Yeah yeah, keep coming up with the lame excuses buddy.” 

“You-” 

“Try every alibi you’ve got in the book, but I know you well,” says Rosé victoriously, sideswiping her way in front of you on the auto walk, rolling her small hand carry around to sit on, taking a breath. She rolls her neck around, stretching - an arm at a weird angle facing down, extending her leg between your feet. Personal space was going to be an issue, you’ve already drawn up that conclusion; considering that you sat with her for roughly about fourteen to sixteen hours with the occasional retreat to the bathroom and the awkward indulgence with one of the flight attendants, you dread how the living situation will be once you and her get to the hotel room. This might be hell for you, but only time will tell which circle you’re finding yourself in. 

“That should not have taken you that long to get our thing set up together,” Rosé lightly berates, handing over her luggage to you once you’ve hailed the provided ride accommodation from the travel company. “If I were the one handling this trip, I would’ve hit points x, y, and z in less time than you. Do you not know the basic cues to kill a conversation?” 

You don’t answer. Because arguing isn’t gonna get you anywhere with her. 

(Telling yourself lies was a strength, but also your curse as well. Somehow you keep getting away with it.) 

You roll your eyes at the rhetorical question, placing all the bags into the trunk of the cab. “C’mon, don’t play the bad cop here. You know damn well that I’ve always been terrible at getting myself out of situations like those. It also didn’t help that she and the couple on the plane sounded so upbeat and enthusiastic.” 

“It’s okay,” Rosé says, patting your shoulder as a form of truce. “Besides, that’s how you met me technically.” She gets into the cab soon after, settling into the backseat. 

And you take a second to internalize the said phrase, scanning the horizon of the cityscape in the backdrop. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you’re muttering to yourself, getting into the cab with Rosé, with most of the ride pretty much quiet as you’re both looking out the opposite windows. 

–

For some added context, Rosé waltzed into your life on a random Tuesday morning in the first week of fifth grade. 

It’s something straight out of a coming-of-age movie or slow-burning romance novel: up until that point, you’ve had boys as your deskmates through the grades with one of them being your close friend going forward. 

She would change all of that - a bit pathetic now that you’re looking back at it: her being the first girl that you would ever talk to let alone sit next to you for the entire school year - but you didn’t mind though, since she was easy to get along with. 

As the days turned into months and into years, you and Rosé shared everything and in between with each other. From exchanging your favorite cartoon shows on a Saturday afternoon when there was no homework, which subject was the favorable one to learn, favorite colors, why she didn't like playing sports compared to you, the blown-out-of-proportion drama over who was the popular girl in school at the time, the score you got on the last math test, what were you going to do over the summer break. There was never a moment where you or she filled in on anything worth sharing. 

Rosé knows everything about you inside and out. The same could be said for your end of the table. 

You’ve created the progressive drawn-up schematic well into high school. Her occasional gossip debriefs, the endless rants about that one teacher who would always give her a hard time, whether or not she should go to the dances (dragging you as her plus one, where she came extremely close to back in junior year), worrying about her near-perfect grades to the point she would overcomplicate every single minute detail that pops up with every last check before turning in an assignment. Then, there’s the crushes. Her occasional flings - to which, she had multiples of them, telling all of the unnecessary details of what she did with the guys on every date, sharing with you all the pros and cons of what her ideal type is. 

But here’s the thing. 

She was giving you all the signals for you to not notice. All the boxes in her list where you checked off nearly every single one of them. The realization itself came to you on a late night when she was passed out on the coffee table, papers on top of papers of notes before college admissions being submitted, turning a blind eye away from the few bottles of soju she consumed to power through even when you said that it was a terrible idea. 

The small intake of alcohol helped you connect the dots right then and there: you were in love with her. 

Playing it safe was the name of the game. And on your part, it was justified to keep yourself at a distance from Rosé, not putting any sort of risk in ruining the long friendship you’ve built with her. Why lay everything on the line with someone who occupied half of your brain already? 

“You won’t know unless the leap of faith has been made,” Lisa says to you at the time, and that's probably the only source of assurance you ever needed to hear. 

So, you make that leap.

A simple line or two is all you said where Rosé’s eyes go wide when you see her off at the front of her house, nothing else to be said when her weight collapses on top of you for an overdue hug. Talk about romantic confessions, am I right? 

Once word went around various friend groups the both of you were in, it didn’t come off as much of a surprise. Most people had already made that conclusive pairing long before you started to read into the social cues and fast glances without you knowing. What mattered in the end was that you were finally with her after all this time. 

It could’ve been written in ink right there and then: she was your first crush, first girlfriend, first kiss, first relationship, first love. 

That should have been the end of the story. The greatest score you could ever pull off in your life. Job done. 

–

(Until it wasn’t. She would eventually be the first terrible heartbreak you would ever have to endure. 

First time for everything, remember?”)

–

“You’re kidding.” Rosé deadpans, walking into the open space of the hotel room, scanning. Her first reaction then shifts once she drops her bags right where they are, walking around the singular king-size bed, showered in rose petals formed into a heart with two towels folded up into quaint but cute swans resting with both of their beaks touching at the top. “You can’t be serious.” 

Your hands go straight into your pockets, the corners of your lips pulled flat, indifferent. “Isn’t it the thought that counts?” 

Rosé bears no mind to your bland answer. Granted, she’s partial to the fact of going through this whole trip with you, patting the head of the towel swan before turning her attention to the table at the corner of the room, a bottle of champagne kept cool in an ice bath. “I’ll give you points for the effort,” she sighs, “Care to tell me how much you paid for everything in this room?” 

The cork goes flying once you lay your bearings, approaching her as she pours the golden liquid into the arranged champagne flutes, handing it over before she spills some of it over the counter on her own.

“I put in a request, that’s all.” She nods in acknowledgment while you take a nice, quick swig of the beverage, hoping to let it sting in your throat as you try to ignore the insane price tag, gazing past the window and to the nearby buildings. “Some of the stuff was extra, well, perks and all.” 

“That so?” Rosé breathes, chuckling. You watch her down an impressive amount, humming at the taste. There’s an old film happening here, impossible to ignore. Her hair’s a little messed up, eyelids dropping low. You have to stand down here, don’t get any funny ideas, tilting your head slightly when the glow of the streetlights below hit her face, radiating, see her lip pulled back between her teeth-

Snapping your attention back to the city skyline was a good mental call. Clearing your throat was even better; anything worth grabbing to consolidate. 

You look over again to see a smile from the side, “It’s so beautiful at night.” 

A pretty sweet view to turn back on, and you agree with her. 

“I’ll go shower first,” Rosé says after clearing her throat, “We’ve had a long day anyway.” 

“Yeah, go on ahead.” 

She then puts her flute back on the table before walking back to her suitcase. You keep your body forward and your feet where they’re at, looking out into the city some more until you eventually hear the shower running. The thought crosses your head again, thinking about all of the things you did to get into this position - moments where you failed to think logically, it’s a mess in your head at this point. 

(Of all people, why did it have to be her? Being practically stranded in the city of love is one thing, but, maybe this is God or the universe trying to make good for your sake - who knows, only time will tell.)

–

This journey may be an ascent to a refined sense of closure or a descent back down into hell; how you look at it is entirely up to you. 

“Do you think I’m contagious or something?” Rosé huffs out in annoyance, tossing a nearby pillow in your direction, forcing you to look up at her sitting upright on the bed - you on the couch at the other end, hoping to create some distance in whatever way you can possible. “The bed’s big enough for the two of us.” 

“I find it better to not entertain that risk.” 

“You slept on the floor in my room multiple times.” 

“Okay I- you- well,” you stutter, words bouncing all over the place as your fingers grip tight into the book in your hands, “that’s different.” 

Rosé then folds her legs up, knees resting underneath her chin. You’re lucky that the reading light hanging over your spot is enough to hide the growing heat of red rising to your cheeks. Ever since she was the one to end things four years ago, contact with Rosé had been pretty much nonexistent, and for good reason. It was already hard to lose your best friend and past lover in one go, but here she is again acting like nothing had happened between you two. Maybe she’s doing what you did: engaging in conversation - though every dreadful second has been painstakingly difficult, looking back to see her head go sideways, an inquisitive gaze written all over her face, the small quirk at the corner of her lip every time she smiles - in your eyes, she’s still the same as before, there’s no difference. 

“It’s not a risk,” Rosé says, placing her head back up against the headboard, “I’m just saying that the couch over there looks uncomfortable.” 

“I’ll manage. Thanks.” 

Rosé then grabs another pillow within her reach, and places it beneath her forearms, straightening out her legs on the bed. “Idiot,” she hisses, the tone almost as a projection. 

That catches your attention: her attitude. She looks away when you twist your head towards her again. “What was that?” 

“Nothing,” she pouts, “I was just trying to get some talking going.” 

Look, playing defensive isn’t wrong by any means. Tactically, that’s the best way to approach things that you’re unfamiliar with. Rosé’s mannerisms, her habits, the quirks she does, you have every trick from her in your personal playbook. You can try to run and hide all you want, but sometimes taking things head-on is the only way to go. 

Rosé here is just- existing. You can tell that she’s far removed from creating any sort of effort into talking; aware of the lingering tension and awkwardness she left all those years ago. Above all that, she carries on with her one-sided conversation - which is sort of relieving to listen to, just hearing her voice, rambling about anything and literally everything that she could bring up. There’s that quick recollection of all the instances, all the times where she would tell you about the countless things where shutting up wasn’t an option. Her outlook on life hasn’t changed, and you admire that she’s bright and passionate about how things work in the world. 

“It’s a bit relieving,” you tell her innocently, “you here reminding me of those days.” 

Nostalgia was something worth decoding between the lines, and Rosé knows this. There’s nothing wrong with filling in what you’ve done in the past year or two, moving on after what you originally thought was the toughest period of your life. Protecting your peace, prioritizing your health - that kind of thing. 

“I know that I left you in a really bad place for so long,” she implies, coming to terms for her actions. Hoping to not open up the old wound, sugarcoating it. 

“We were at different points in our lives,” you console. You’re not so entirely sure of yourself if it’s the alcohol talking or the foundations of your inner walls crumbling. “I just thought that-” 

“Don’t.” Rosé commands, crossing her arms over the pillow. “Don’t.” 

“Okay, but still - I just wished that it didn’t have to end that way.” 

It goes and it goes. Rosé keeps her gaze fixed on you as you’re nodding, mindful of what the words are but not saying it. Instead, you keep it lighthearted and put it in a positive perspective and it may be worthy of a few snaps of her fingers.

The late-night convos are a little relaxing, so you’ll take that as a plus. 

–

The first ‘actual’ day of the trip is pretty uneventful. 

Nothing too substantial to report other than the fact it was a mix of cloudy skies and rain from time to time. 

Rosé insisted on following the itinerary, walking around the streets, and trying out various cafes handpicked by her. Then there’s the usual landmarks within walking distance too: the Arc de Triomphe, the Grand Palais, and no point in going to the Eiffel Tower since there was zero visibility at the top, so you divert to the Notre Dame Cathedral and try again a different day when the weather clears up. 

(Without a care in the world, she runs up the sidewalk and turns around, arms wide open: “We’re not in Kansas anymore are we?

You give her a face of genuine confusion, “What?” Her face falls flat and you’re left there saying: “What.”) 

Aside from the good food and everything around you picturesque and as ‘fresh inspiration’, Rosé takes this opportunity to capture whatever stood out to her: candid pictures of you on film, other city goers doing their everyday routine, in addition to the photos she took at the different landmarks. She has you taking pictures of her, not as a possible memento. No. But you can’t turn her down whatsoever - you just can’t. 

–

(All of that is about to change, and the rain starts to pick up well into the evening. In the figurative scheme of things, you could put this as the heart of the storm; the moment where lighting can strike twice in the same spot. It could happen.)

- 

Somehow the sim card in your phone keeps bugging out every few hours or so. The reception around the city hasn’t been that bad per se, but trying to get some calls back home has been a bit of a pain - so you had to work with what you got. Texting was the second best option for reaching Jennie, hoping that you can keep the act up by keeping her in the loop of this whole getaway. So far the messages have been casual, typical fill-ins of her day since you left, missing you. 

To compensate for the international phone rates, you managed to find a payphone. An odd surprise at best and you suppose that it shouldn’t take forever in the booth, but the pitter-patter of the droplets hitting along the glass gave a small indication that this might take longer than expected. 

The line continues to ring for a second or two longer, and then- 

Click. 

The silence becomes a slight worry, fingers gripping the phone, hoping that you could hear a hum - or that lovely violet voice that sends your heart thrumming right from the first letter. 

Instead, you hear her laugh, and a sigh soon after. It might’ve been a moan as well, you know that much. 

Another voice picks up at the end of the call, one that you’re very not familiar with: “Hel- Hello? Who’s this? Jennie, I think it’s your-” 

There’s no fucking way. 

Everything around the booth starts to fade in and out of focus. Rational thought was still in play, but barely - trying to put all of the little pieces together in a short amount of time. It’s not enough. Your jaw tightens, fighting the blood simmering through your veins. There’s too many questions to be asked, but only a few answers to take. You’re not entirely sure what these wave of emotions actually are - and it could be a lot of things: anger, fear, rage, sadness? 

“Shit. Give me the- hello?” Jennie’s voice tries to calm you, but it’s already too late for that. “Wait, it’s not what you think it is, I swear-” 

“I think I’ve heard enough from you.” 

“Babe, if you just let me explain-” 

You don’t think twice about hanging up. Your mind doesn’t even register the pain being imbued into your hands when you’re punching the glass furiously in quick succession. Hell, when you leave the booth, the realization has slowly started to set in, but the tears simply won’t come out. 

I thought you were different. 

The rain falls a lot harder now that you’ve finally stepped outside and look up to the dark sky, as if the universe is sharing its sorrowfulness as well. 

You were supposed to be different.

–

If you had the chance to put all of your thoughts and feelings from your past relationships into a bottle or glass, you’d drink it down until there’s absolutely nothing at the bottom; the pain might’ve been tolerable then. No matter how many shots it’s been, it’s still not enough. 

You don’t even remember when you first walked into the bar, but you order another shot anyway. The coat next to you still needs a few more minutes to dry up as it is. 

The alcohol stings when it travels down your throat, mind working way past overtime - thinking back of all the times when you’ve been duped, deceived, exploited - but to no avail. It's a bit pathetic that the worst kinds of people show up when you least expect it, even if it's those who you hold close dearly to your heart. Relationships and commitment to you have always been complicated; an unwritten cosmic law etched into the stars. 

In hindsight, it just really fucking sucks. 

It’s gotten so bad to the point where you’re being woken up after passing out for maybe five or ten or so minutes. You don’t remember. Your memory is in these black patches - rough blots of ink with no detail underneath as your vision slowly forms. A girl is next to you; a calm, soothing voice bringing you closer to the light. Everything’s still blurry, but you can barely make out the silhouette: dark hair, fine skin, smooth palm holding your face. It’s comforting, you start to question if this was the present reality, but you take a shot in the dark:

“Jennie?” you say, mind buzzed and speech slurred. 

“No. Dingus.” 

Ah, it was worth a shot. You can see things a lot more clearer now. Instead of the shaded dark hair, it’s the opposite: hot blonde. The texture of the jacket too is also familiar, her hand is surprisingly wet from the rain, and she sounds out of breath - like she ran here. 

Rosé. 

“What the hell happened to you?” She asks, distressed, holding your face before lightly shoving it away realizing what she was doing.

You try your best to explain the situation; but considering the plethora of drinks you had on the tab along with the alcohol in your system, you don’t actually explain anything at all. 

She could only hear the sniffles coming out of your nose. 

Rosé then takes a second look, and puts another piece of the damage together. It’s all over your face: the puffy eyes, bloodied knuckles, your irises once filled with light now an empty, deep void - like something sucked the life right out of you. 

“Something happened with Jennie, no?” The name pierces your heart at the guiltless inquiry.

“Kinda,” you answer with a hiccup at the end. “It’s all the same between me and love, honestly.” 

Rosé then draws back, your face still in her hands, internalizing the present state. You think she might’ve realized a thought right then and there, an instance where she's been before not long ago. It doesn’t take that much more for her to learn what you had done to get here; let alone who managed to hurt you in the first place. Because she’s been here before, and she now knows what her mistake was two years ago. 

So instead of running away, she pulls you in for a hug. You break down a little harder for a moment. No point in hiding. 

She doesn’t say anything after leaning back. The best form of comfort she could give were both palms to your cheeks, wiping the dried-up tears off as best as she could. Somehow you barely even manage to make eye contact with her again, afraid to even look away in the first place. 

You’re not sure if you leaned in or if she pulled you back to her, but your mind clears up instantly the second she kisses you. 

Her lips are the same way as you remember them: nice and soft and undeniably comforting. Both of her hands keep you in place, the wistful inhale of her nose matches yours, wanting more of this rising heat spreading across your faces. She kisses like she missed you and- in a partly true way, for all the wrong reasons. Gripping and clutching wherever she can, afraid to let go of you again like the last time. You or her could practically melt in this little pocket created and recall sometime later and try to decipher every little individual action leading up to this, whether or not to write this off as an act of grace or an admission of cruelty - one or the other will have you sinking at the end. 

Rosé stops herself, eyes half-lidded, pulling her swollen bottom lip like some sort of warning. 

“I uh-” Crap. You should’ve known better, but you can’t help or blame the drinks for making you like this. “I-I’m sorry. You didn’t have to-” 

“It’s okay.” 

“But-” 

“C’mon,” she persists, holding your hand and nodding her head sideways, “let’s get out of here.” 

–

You’re more aware of your actions now, in the late hours of the city - where anyone could get away with anything. With that taken into account, this is the perfect time to hide away; out of anybody’s sight and the risk of getting caught is the least of your worries. 

Rosé’s nose bumps yours when you’ve pressed her against the brick wall in some alley - calming every form of impulse as you could, but it’s futile. Her arms wrap around your neck and you’re cupping her face, tilting her head up to elicit a gasp between her lips. 

“Fuck,” she rasps, and it’s pretty when she curses. Her hands go everywhere, haywire. A last act of desperation she does is dig her fingers into the back of your head, only making your arms pull her in closer, hindering the purpose of what she’s trying to achieve. You’d let her, and that’s exactly what she’s going for here. 

“I’m a bit drunk still,” you admit, feeling the tips of her fingers graze along the nape of your neck. “So don’t beat me up if I can’t remember everything after tonight.” 

Rosé’s hand shifts to your jaw, kissing you again so easily; giving you little to no time to react. Like she’s coaxing you into thinking differently that’s better than your common sense. A few more smacks here and there happen, the cool air surrounding both of you trying to flush the heat out. 

The press of her face is anything out of the ordinary, humming into your mouth that deepens the sinking pit happening in your stomach. It isn’t anything new. 

Because that’s the impending phase of her slowly coming back to light. She was always vocal and forward with how she took on the world; leaving a mark of what she had done not far either. Her hands cup your face so tenderly, and each longing touch of her lips against yours sends a tidal wave of memories flooding back - this entity that’s all-consuming where you could only handle so much, a hand to the side of her throat where the kiss deepens, surrendering your mind to hers

Maybe it was the timing of everything, a thought to theorize with once it’s all said and done. 

“You’re broken again,” she whispers between your lips. 

“Among other things,” you darted back, sighing slowly and head lowered. But it’s the truth. “Yeah, won’t say any more.” Your eyes meet hers as you slowly retreat. 

“It’s okay.” Rosé concludes, eyes filled with so much care and empathy into them, thumb grazing along your cheek, cleaning another dry trail from the tears. “You have me.” 

My god, this woman- 

“I honestly convinced myself that you’d already moved on,” her gaze goes crestfallen, pulling her lips inward. “To think that I left you there by yourself, after everything we’ve been through. It ruined me too since - it wasn’t even your fault to begin with.” 

You swallow your pride and turn yourself over on the wall. 

Most of your mind is drawing blanks - bits and pieces of the picture caricatured through a warm mouth and fingertips. The draft in itself is a bit fucked up, sketched at the last possible minute; hands ghosting your jacket, tracing a line or two into the fabric of your shirt, trailing lower along the waistband of your pants. “You’re kidding, right?” 

Rosé snorts at the whisper, lowering her eyelids when she’s peppering your neck again with kisses. “We’re not having a problem here are we?” She says that as she’s descending to her knees, looking up so innocently like some angel incarnate - contradicting the current action she’s presenting right now.  

“Look. Rosé, we really shouldn't-” 

She pays no attention to the pleading when she’s palming your length through your underwear, thumb sliding up against the underside while your other hand settles with hers set at the side of your thigh. “Okay, I mean - like this is just wrong - you don’t- god, why are you even-” 

Rosé here, doesn’t give you any chance to breathe or recuperate the fast flow of thoughts. Her eyes remain unimpressed with a tilt of her head, closing in with the newly uncovered area at your waist, and the twist of her lips brings forth a sense that’s been lost to hidden waves of time. 

She inhales, coaxing you much to the point where you’re looking up to the sky above for some safe passage. 

“Mmmmm.” 

You might as well be fucked from this point on. At least you’ll play into the game Rosé’s putting up with her mouth all over you. 

“Oh, oh fuck-” 

It’s all in the simple movements and adjustments - the hair being pulled back to the cuff of her ear, the way she bottoms your cock down to the base and rests for a second, the graze of her teeth across the topside, sending your hips chasing for more of that addicting bite. She hollows out her cheeks to the right pressure of suction, bracing her hands on your thighs as she begins to pick up a steady rhythm. Down, side to side, then up. Down, side to side, then up. You could picture her lashes fluttering with every slide down your shaft, humming right along the skin as if she’s proffering a way of reflecting, praising with little to no words but with plump lips and a warm tongue. 

“Gotta say,” Rosé starts, after reeling back for a second, “I remembered why I loved this cock so much.” 

You’ve got her hair in the grips of your fingers, thrusting your cock back past those pretty lips, hoping to shove her words right back down her throat - which works so much better than you initially expected. The brain is working triple the amount of overtime to register and compensate for the endless rush of stimulation your body is getting; the buzz of the alcohol fading with every new layer of spit lathered across the length, watching Rosé’s head continue to bob at a faster pace between your legs. She doesn’t let you off that easily when her hand coils itself at the base, the other cradling your balls with the right amount of pressure - prompting you to use both of your hands to grip her head, making the motion as seamless as possible. You could feel her throat go slack, opening up the edges to where your cock can fill in the space - the gags alone break above the audible ambiance of rain hitting the ground beneath the both of you. 

“Fuck me.” And at this point, your level of thinking is so thrown under limbo. The sounds alone are music to your ears. A lost tune waiting to be heard again. Wanting. “Rosé, you-” 

“Ummphgh,” is all you manage to get out of her, the spit and slippery slick of her mouth the only point of contact. You look down and see it in her eyes: glassy and welled up; like was meant to be used like this, a vessel to provide and clean up the mess of every lap her tongue makes to your underside and the seam of your balls. An angel like her, her wings clipped after committing a damming act, hoping to earn them back in any way she can. When you slide your cock out of her slack mouth - slap the member across her swollen lips, eyes closed and jaw lowered as you’re leaving behind the sloppy and unmarked territory that you’ll come back to not long after.  

She nods and gags. You want to make her fucking choke.  

All of this should be drawn up as a one-off, never to be spoken of again. She didn’t have to go this far, being on her knees for you like this. Neither of you owe anything to each other. Some of this might have some meaning carried with the way that Rosé speaks with her eyes, mixed with a concoction of want and sorrowfulness, opening her mouth so wide for you to take with no remorse.

And when you cum deep into her throat, it’s all in her eyebrows - the way she accepts, poisoning your morality just like that. 

The pulses do die down eventually, and Rosé tilts her head to the side to give you a better look at her swallowing your release; wiping her lip in a slight relishment, damp hair falling in front and her fingers dancing along the line of her jaw - internalizing the rewarding ache. Her eyes shimmer in the low lighting, her skin covered in this spreading glow of pale and glistening. Most of her lip gloss is gone, now mixed with the layer of smeared spit all over your cock. You’re cradling her head delicately, thumb grazing the temple and some of the ends of her hair, giving you a list of things to fix. 

Rosé smacks her lips, and runs her tongue against the upper profile of her teeth. “Well then,” she starts, “hope that was enough to calm your nerves for the time being.” 

You’re trying extremely hard to slow your breathing, watching while she brings a wrist to her face, wiping up the damage. 

“We’re so fucked up,” you barely say, clearing your throat. 

“Between us?” Rosé implies, finally rising from her knees and patting your shoulders down as an out-of-touch way to comfort, “That’s old news, buddy.” 

You pull her in a bit again, placing the distance of her face to yours a little over the double digits. There’s no point in ignoring her gravity, the way that you find yourself a tad magnetized, bringing out a side where it was for her and only her. She could be an entity of a higher being, probably God’s given gift from himself which you once had lost. A blessing and curse that’s managed to find their way back into your arms again. 

“Now that I think about it,” you’re saying, combing some of her blonde locks before ghosting your hand just above her head, “You’ve always been the same as before.” 

Rosé’s eyelids dip, peculiar, curious. That sly grin at the corner of her lip laced with the dimple trailing not far after, it’ll do you numbers. It’s happened before. 

But she puts a hand to the side of your face, a soft smile to seal the whole act up as she starts to peel away. “Think you can walk to the hotel in a straight line without my help?” 

“You’re gonna leave me outside if you get there first.” You answer jokingly. 

She might as well if she wanted to, and you won’t be that far behind. 

—

Hangovers. They’re the worst. 

Normally in times like these: you’d lie in bed facing up to the ceiling, playing back all the events and instances in your mind to the best of your ability, and then get washed by the feeling of regret or questions of why you did actions a, b, and c. Fuck around and find out they say, that’s how the learning experience goes. 

Although this would be the exception- 

“That’s all it took for you? Just the voice by itself?” Rosé asks you the morning after, tending to the wounds on your hands, easily stacked at the wrists, and caring for them with a mother’s touch. “If it were me, I would’ve hung up by the first five seconds of silence.” 

“Here’s the thing: I’m not you.” 

Rosé rolls her eyes and puts the attention back to your knuckles. She grazes them with her fingertips once the dried-up blood has been washed away and sealed with a bandage. Her hands alone may look small, but the size has been apparent compared to yours. “You broke the glass from that payphone booth, didn’t you?” 

“If I kept retelling you what I did, would you believe me by then?” You ask flatly. 

“I’m just-” she stutters for a second when she zips up the first aid kit, “-surprised, honestly - and don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen you angry before. I didn’t expect it to be that serious.” 

“Wow. Way to beat around the bush I guess.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I know you are. Slightly.” 

Rosé leans back to get more of you in view, examining the new patches to cover the temporary pain left because of your actions. The repercussions don’t have to be said when it’s already shown. Good thing you brought gloves for a reason - a proper excuse to keep your hands warm when the weather gets colder. 

“Are you okay?” She asks after a brief period of silence. 

Your head twists back towards her. “Hm?” 

“I’m being genuine. Are you okay?” she says to you again, this time leaning to place her elbows on the table. “When I picked you up from the bar, you looked wrecked.” 

“Which I was. So, you’re not entirely wrong here.” 

Rosé then curls her fingers, resting her chin on top of them. Her eyes were full of concern. She doesn’t have to do all this - the nice, good girl willing to reconnect and rekindle even though you and her both know that things ended in a rough patch prior. She didn’t have to agree to go on the trip with you, but the intentions here are good - for the most part. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The inquiries from her keep on coming. 

“I think we should come back to this topic when I’m in a better headspace,” you tell her, and she doesn’t bother asking anymore. “What about-” 

“Huh?” 

“I was gonna say something about, well-” you clear your throat before wiping the lower half of her face before finding the right words to deliver the next topic, “last night when we-” 

“Don’t expect you to remember much. Being drunk is a valid excuse,” she tells you, crossing her arms together with a little furrow in her brows. “One-time thing. No strings attached. Got it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

She nods convincingly. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, massaging your temple. 

“Okay,” Rosé echoes, knocking on wood twice for good luck. “I say we go out then.” 

“What? Where to?” You dart back while she stands up from the seat, shuffling away to her luggage. “Uh, hey-” 

Rosé snorts a bit, lets out a hearty laugh, one full of pure mischief. “I’m hungry. And we can put off room service for another time.” 

–

“How many cafes have we been to in the past hour?” you’re asking Rosé, jaw dropped at the abundance of people waiting for their coffee orders ahead of you two. “Jesus, with this amount of caffeine, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.” 

Rosé’s head turns, sipping the last bits of her beverage from the previous place you two were at, shaking the cup now full of ice. “Don’t give me that.” She laughs. “Jisoo was the one who recommended the places to me.” Her head leans back to get a few ice cubes in her mouth since the crunches are satisfying to her. “If anything, it’s your fault that you can’t keep up with-” 

“I’d rather prioritize my health than drain it all away with a lot of drinks and a heart condition.” you sigh, taking the hint of her waving the cup in front of you to throw out, looking back out to listen for the number of your order. (They’ve been alternating from counting into the high forties and low twenties. It’s all confusing how any of this is efficient.) “Though the pastries and drinks have been amazing to try, so I thank you.” 

She looks up at you again, flipping some of her back over her shoulder, flaunting a little shimmy of her shoulders. Like she’s aware of the praise, the compliments, the credit, and everything else lying underneath the verbal nuances. “Perks of having me as your foodie guide for the tour.” 

“You’re so stupid,” you say, gaze dropping down to your feet in disappointment. 

A nudge to your shoulder is all she gives before turning her body away. “Such a bitch.” 

“Preaching the truth,” you reply - a hum in the timbre, playing into the banter. “That’s why they paired both of us together: toothbrush and toothpaste. peas in a pod-” 

You flinch a bit when she raises a hand, but you can’t help yourself to laugh as she surrenders the idea of making a scene in public. It’s all good fun in the end, a breath of fresh air. 

Then the matcha order gets called up, perfect timing. 

–

You and Rosé do celebratory cheers with the clear plastic cups, swirl the tea inside before drinking a good third of it down, nod, and acknowledge the amount in addition to the taste. She then asks you to give it a rating - where you place it pretty high on the given scale. 

“That’s really good,” you say, wetting your lips for another sip. 

“What’d I tell you?” Rosé asks after, all comfy with her drink in both hands, watching you take in another swig because why not? “This place might be the best one on the list.” 

“You mean Jisoo’s list,” you tease. “But sure, you can claim this list as yours since she’s not here to protest against it.” 

“Right. I’ll do exactly that.” 

You take notice of the same gaze that she’s been holding for the past few minutes now. It’s probably too late to realize that it's a honey trap: the more that your curiosity gets the best of you, the more likely that you’ll forget about everything else. A good look at her rosy cheeks, the stray strands of blonde hair sticking out because of the fuzziness that her scarf is emitting, much to the point that you can’t even see her neck beneath all of that. 

“Sorry,” you’re saying, leaning your head sideways more to get a closer look. Nobody’s falling for it, especially not her. “There’s a stain right about-” 

Rosé keeps her hands right where they are in holding the drink, eyes glued to your hand ghosting her face, the slightest touch where you’re cupping her jaw to keep it in place. You do manage to get the small mess off but make no other move. 

She turns her head slightly towards your hand, parting her lips; and a part of your head starts to flip internally. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” Rosé proposes, you think it’s intentional like she wanted you to do that. You can see it in her alluring shade of whiskey, clouded with mystery, shrouding a burning sensation behind those irises, blinking prettily. 

“If I told you, it won’t happen later.” 

“Oh yeah?” Rosé tuts, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth, and dips her head a few inches. “I’m intrigued,” her voice is a witch’s spell. She scoots herself towards you, closing the bubble away from the world, the moment alone stretched longer than usual. 

“I shouldn’t kiss you,” you tell her, practicing caution. A last reminder thrown up in an imaginary white flag. 

“But you could, right?” Rosé says in the sheerest hint of innocence, but the message says all sorts of corruption, "Where's the harm in that?” 

Setting yourself up for the mind-meld was always a tall task, especially with a girl like Rosé. You could rationalize how the universe has managed to put you on this tightrope, with no hope of making it to the ends; the only choice would be to embrace this fall from grace, and feel every emotion. 

She inches closer, the intent clear as day. “Y’know,” the tension is already hanging low amongst the both of you, “I’d be okay with it.” 

–

(Look. Saving yourself the embarrassment was always going to be a lost cause. Consider it as a premonition, the tug of anticipation of playing things out the way they are, rewind the clip or recording to catch something new every take; a wish to alter the cause and effect. No matter how you look at it, what’s done is done.) 

–

The intimacy itself gets thrown out the window, and finding a proper hold would be a lesser worry to think about. Rosés frantically slithering out of her overcoat, biting your lip in what you assume is an accident, and pressing her into the wall catches her off guard and she bumps into your face. Your thumbs are at her cheeks, holding her face in place, and the hooded eyes get pulled away; you’re thinking, she’s thinking -  and all she can say is, “don’t start having second thoughts now.” It’s another green light from her to pick up where you left off, feel her arms have no sense of direction until they finally rest around the crooks of your neck and shoulders, quick draws of air passing through each other’s lips until you and her eventually fill in that space once more. 

Even if there’s no label between you two now, the knowledge is already present there in the low lights. 

“Let me remind you,” you’re telling her, smiling as her tongue clashes with yours, scrunching up your neck as her hands are working fast to slip you out of your top. “You started this.” 

Her chin tilts up, grazing the peak of your jaw, lips trained on yours and kissing like it’s second nature; since she exactly remembers how to wind you up, unraveling. The scrunch of your neck goes away once the top falls along the floor, making out with you for what feels like it’s been forever. 

“Maybe I did,” says Rosé, landing another kiss on the line of your chin, hand caressing the back of your head, unwilling to let go of you. “And can I be honest? I don’t hear you complaining about it.” 

“Now why would I?” 

She leans back against the drywall, arm up as if you were holding her by the wrist, but you aren’t - at least, not yet. Puffs her chest up with the help of the arch behind. “That’s the question,” she answers, hand palming the seat of your pants, fingers curling slightly, “That’s always the question.” 

A window of opportunity is here. You can see it. She could lay out all the hints in front of you and you wouldn’t need all of them to figure her out, because you know: she loves being so forward, only for her to be held down, give her little to no wiggle room where her hands can leave major damage, the teasing; you’ll shut her mouth up with a pillow to her face or your hand and watch her eyes crunch together until she breaks. There’ll be times when she wants to rush, and you’d go slow, then vice versa. The grip you have on her hip isn’t nice, and you’ll keep kissing her, be very meticulous in the approach, and make her go insane. 

Her muscles, let alone her body tense at the touch, shying a smile away as if she’s afraid to admit it herself. “But I gotta say,” Rosé whispers, her breath canvassing over your lips. “Doesn’t this feel nostalgic? Like old times?” 

And here is where you’re practicing plausible deniability: since she’s right. A brief flash of all the times; all the instances that occurred in the past. She’s got her shirt off, and it helps jog the memory a lot more too - how you’d hold her down and just revel in the whimpering noises that escape her mouth, embracing every acre of her body; it’d be so easy to mold into her, you know from experience. 

“Okay seriously,” Rosé’s saying, the rush of bliss spilling all over her face when your hands trail up and down the sides of her waist. The smile she’s bearing is a whole lot more apparent now the more your mouth is left slack open, eyes ogling without doing a single blink. “I forgot how you like to take your sweet ass time in adoring me - fuck, it’s even worse when you’re not even saying anything, like, at all, I swear to God, please, just-” 

You’re paying no attention as you’re scouting out the different pieces that need peeling away off her figure. The shirt’s already off from the start. You manage to stop your hands from dancing along the waistline of her pants, hold her leg up as you’re pulling from the cuff at the bottom, keep her second-guessing with a few kisses to her stomach, brush your nose along the lace of her panties and scrape a bit of your forehead into the line of her bra. There might be something wrong with you; but hey, she’s on the same boat as well. 

Once all of that’s off and disregarded, you’re claiming long lost territory - marking up everywhere to be examined at the scene of the crime when it’s all done and dusted: her chest, her neck, the collarbones, her nipples already primed to the point, the subtle hint of muscle in the abs, you’re finding a way back. 

Rosé’s breathing is heavy with heat over your ear now, palming her pussy folds now exposed to the open air. “Yes - okay. Okay. I get it- jesus,” she’s stuttering as the reaction starts to traverse throughout her body. Your fingers are dancing along the dangerous area, playing with fire. You can remember the nerves being so responsive, and electric, it’s beautiful to watch in real time. “Look- you win, I’ll help. Whatever you need. I’ll do it.” 

“That so?” you ask. She’s holding herself in place as best she can along with your hand, an acknowledgment, take account of the slick soaking the grooves of your fingers. You kiss her and smile against her lips - teetering on the edge of cruelty and excitement. “Jokes on you sweetheart, I knew you’d always be good for me.” 

The devil is already in the details: pinning her to the wall and burying your fingers into her cunt. She keens when you slip in one finger, then two. Her sighs, singing this harmony that urges this need for it to be silenced; so you get your lips to the line of her collarbone - or, her lips resting right above the cuff of your ear, leg curling to the backside of your thigh, rising to the end of your ass. You let it slide when she pulls you in deeper into her body with her arms, the weight of your front crushing her chest a bit, which she’s okay with. 

“There.” Rosé does a mix of a bob and a shake of her head, “yes, oh-” 

You’re building an idea. One that hasn’t seen the light in your mind ever since the preceding one was ripped apart from you so suddenly. She keeps on gasping as you find the spots - the familiar ones where you’ve killed her before, pressing deeper and deeper into the stretch of that satisfying warmth spreading into your hand. The trembling in her body is already a stark implication of your craft becoming true. A little of a wiggle here, the push of the stretch, opening her wide. Her eyes fixate on yours, and her mouth loosens with each parting breath. 

“Y-you-” 

“There she is,” you murmur, the lower half of your face twisting into a sinister smile. 

All she could do was nod, like she was admitting; almost as if she wanted this. 

“Hold still for me,” you’re instructing, and the tone in the phrase is so gentle that she agrees to the request easily. She’s surrendering herself to you. An unspoken truth in itself. You can see the twinkle behind the rings of her irises, her shoulders drop as a result of all the muscles and bones finally relaxing after being so pent up. Something shifts in you, maybe an act of desperation; a moment where your ego is fractured. It happens when you’re pressing your cheek against hers, whispering into her ear as you put your fingers back into her cunt: “You’ve missed this, so much, haven’t you?” 

Rosé winces. You can feel the clamp in her pussy and jaw. 

Her nose scrunches as well, doing everything she can to not unfold the stricken nerve, so she mouths instead. “Yes. God, yes.” She can’t focus at all when her head hits the back of the wall and you’re leaving your lips into her neck. “I regretted it - so much, so fucking much. Wanted you to forgive me, to come back and-” 

Shit. She got you there. The honesty alone might come as a shock to you. 

“I tried so hard to move on. To forget,” she barely breathes, her voice clearer than ever, like she’s ignoring the fact that you have two curling digits inside that unbelievable cunt of hers, gripping, thighs pressing together into your hand and keeping it there; a makeshift shackle. It didn't take much to push her buttons and rile her up, get her cursing and spilling out incoherent nonsense since she can’t think straight due to the rubbing from the bottom of your palm. “The apology was there, but you were already gone-” 

The more she speaks, the more she sends your common sense down into a spiraling cyclone. Your hand keeps working her leaking slit while the other hikes up her leg - let her carry the weight in holding your body as she’s mindlessly humming against your mouth; even though she’s still trying to speak, that’s fine as it is. Maybe you’re doing yourself a favor jumping face first into this hell, or Rosé herself is just helping you get there faster- 

She knows what she wants. It’s a bit pathetic, a contrast to her condescending attitude that’s been peeling away little by little. Her slick is so smooth around your fingers, twirling and sliding with no care for her responses at all. You could kind of hear her say ‘I'm sorry’. Almost, you’re not entirely sure, but the endless nods and welled-up tears prove that there’s a psychotic factor occurring in your mind. 

“Gonna cum for me?” you ask, and she puts on this faint smile before her head lolls up and back towards the wall. “Your hips are shuddering by the second.” 

Rosé doesn’t say anything except for the staggered breaths from your hand working her and giving no care to fucking with your fingers. She tries to grip onto something; a hand, shoulder, the back of your head - whatever she could try to get her mind to not focus on you. It’s pointless. The precipice and final peak of her high is there in her eyes; locked to your face, focusing and unfocusing. 

She cums. And she looks strikingly astonishing when she finally melts down. 

“Cat got your tongue?” You ask again, expression slightly satisfied as the arms around you hold her down, pinning her. “That’s too bad, ‘cause I was gonna say that you look good like this-” 

Her hips buck forward, pussy gushing a bit more on your fingers, wetting them. “God, y-you- fuck-” 

A pinch of her clit is all you give her and she’s practically not there anymore. 

The cries coming out of her reverberate around the room. Her mouth is still hung open when you relieve some of the pressure of your face on hers, eyes slowly trying to blink through the orgasm as much as possible. The front of her body falls forward, her cunt piping hot - or well, that’s just the final part of the warmth washing over with the need for another outlet to take it all in. 

“Maybe I should just let you have it, huh?” you tell her as you get your hands to her waist and thigh again. “Do you think you deserve my forgiveness after what you did?” 

“Yes, yes.” Rosé answers. You’re finding it hard to be convincing - as if she couldn’t say it any other way when you’re hovering her over to the bed and the nodding starts to become more frantic, desperate. 

When she finally lands back first on the bed, you don’t give her any room to breathe as her body naturally arches when you’re pressing your weight on top of her again. And that’s the venom working its magic through your mind and body; she’s managed to get you craving for more without doing much. 

This is her checkmate to you. She wants you so fucking bad that if you don’t get your dick inside her in the next few minutes, the damage to follow after would honestly be catastrophic. 

In all fairness, you want her. It’s that simple. You’re willing to hold her down and fuck her senselessly, give her no care until she’s a pure puddle of mush. The hand holding you is calculated, precise; palm to the side of her face as she sighs at the touch. Gentle, yes. Her head tracks yours as you admire the winding mess that’ll get worse eventually. 

“I want you to say it,” you tell her, accidentally leaning down to bump your nose with hers. “To be sure. Rosé, I-” 

“Need you-” Her body tenses while her mouth drops to a new low, the sudden shift in her body too much to bear. You manage to wrap yourself around her, sliding slowly; spreading her legs wider until that ache rests on your muscles and hers. The drag of her fingernails on your back keeps your attention on her, zeroing in on the tightness of her waist when you’re adjusting to the right angle and depth, suspending you not to think about anything else besides her. “Like this- oh, yes- right there, fuck it’s so big, holy shit-” 

“Christ,” you hiss; Rosé’s front rises to where your stomach is, squirming until you get a proper hold of her hips at the crease where the top of her legs are, putting her in place. You’re shaking your head here, trying to stay conscious; Rosé’s eyes fall to the back of her head, blinking lethargically. Her cunt’s smoothing out all the ridges and veins, clinging with a melting grip that you’d want to bury yourself in for as long as you’re with her. 

She bites down a cry, and the whines can only be covered so much when she’s eating away at your face, hips snapping up slowly. 

You use the adjustments wisely, watch as her expression carefully unravels right in front of your eyes, until you have a proper hold of her legs where it’ll hurt, pulling her into your cock. The first smack of skin and drive up her spine snaps - like a cable cut, a live wire - the thread of curses and the cauldron of praises fall out so nicely past her lips. She locks her arms around your back, get her pussy in a position where you can take it deep and wreck her like clockwork- 

“Okay, okay. I get it now- jesus girl,” you moan out, the sound partly broken, “You win. I, fuck-” 

So you manage to bury your dick inside her, saying her name and it freaking destroys her. Some of the slaps of skin match your heartbeat from time to time, the pace nice and consistent, kissing to comfort as she swallows down the first wave of sobs.

“Yeah, yeah. You know - you’ve always known,” Rosé groans. “Ugh-” 

“Talking too much,” you mutter right back at her, breath hot and all over the skin of her cheek, pressing, a slight grin forming between your lips. “You don’t sound sorry enough.” 

Her face then matches the same lazy smile, tugged at the corners. You’ve barely made a dent into her and it isn’t enough. The focus is clear; right in her eyes, lidded and glossy. But she flutters her lashes shut, nodding profusely again, when you’ve nudged your cockhead into the spot where you’ve killed her before, another move made. “Yes I- I am. I am, I am, I am.” 

There’s not much to follow up on. The pace is already set. The one-two; slide out and drop the pin right back where it belongs. Rosé pulls you in with her lips, ankles linking to the backside of your thighs, holding her by the middle of her waist. It’s a natural transaction of sorts, the opening of old terms - matching what one wants along the other. 

Maybe you’re returning the favor in a way with her - which you are. Your vision is already becoming hazy, the clamp of her cunt all over your cock the only point of focus and consciousness keeping you sane. Nothing else outside you two mattered at this moment, hidden away within these very walls of the room as Rosé’s hips started to stutter again when you bottomed her out. 

And when she whines, a high pitch rather than a lone note, the part has never been made clearer. 

You remember how you’ve fucked her in this fashion: burying your face into her chest, nails digging into the scalp of your head, holding you so close and tenderly - like she was afraid of losing you again, powering through the second time she cums all over your cock, the mixing of her sobbing and sniffles when you’ve pushed her over that edge once more, urging you to keep sinking into her willingly - even when the precision starts to lose its fine touch. 

Even when her body starts to go limp, you play the nice gesture of raising her legs a little higher, getting her ankles planted right to the small of your back, opening up the deep, melting hollow of heat underneath you. 

“Rosie. Oh, Rosie- my Rosie-” you mumble softly beneath the repeating hymn of your name on her tongue. “My god, you’re fucking crazy.” 

“I want it- want you,” she sighs, palm to your cheek as her eyes lock with yours again. Christ, she knows what the fuck she’s doing, you need to fuck her properly, get your cock embedded right in her cunt where the warmth is at the hottest, filling her up and sliding smoothly along her slick walls to the point where she’ll have to repeat in the request - will you? Please, you fuck me so well - I swear, right there, this pussy’s always been yours, nobody else’s- 

“How I’ve missed this,” you confess. The drag of her fuckhole is that lethal, and reverts you to old ways. The regret will cross your mind again soon, you’re sure of it. 

“Cum baby.” She tells you, basically letting you do so. The velvety walls are just too much for you to handle. You could feel the coil tighten in your abdomen, the grip of her legs in your hands now leaving their red marks across her pale skin, cock hitting the same spot of her cunt over and over, relentlessly pounding and grinding her lower half into a mere puddle. “I want you to cum.” 

The air within you gets sucked right out of your lungs, boiled over to a stream of strained groans and heavy exhales - two more strokes inside her creaming cunt before you grasp on the last bit of energy to tug yourself out, painting all over the fine plane of Rosé’s waist, pumping your load out. A hand gets planted to the side, holding you upright, her voice also in its high octave, begging and speaking in tongues as the ribbons of white find their place across the blush ambered skin. 

“Fuck- holy fuck,” she sighs again, eyelids lifting up as you hobble over from the sudden blood loss from your head, bumping into hers as you tap the numb of her clit with your tip once, twice, the loose sobs sounding heavenly, pulling you back to your senses. “Oh god - it feels so good all over me. Yes.Yes. It’s so good, keep teasing my pussy like that, I know you love it, shit-” 

Even after getting her brains properly fucked out, the slurs of her words spilling out are still coherent. You take a moment to breathe, calm down the irregular heart rate as best you can, and watch as Rosé takes a fingertip to her stomach and collects some of the mess left by you. She’s so shameless, tattered, reaping the reward in all of its glory. 

“Satisfied?” You ask, rubbing her lip. Her blush is amazing to look at, a slut like her owning the part as if she’s meant for it. It’s true. The afterglow makes her ten thousand times more alluring than how she was back at the cafe when she planted the idea of those dirty thoughts slowly formulating in the back of your mind. All you have to do is just look at her- 

It’s easy to read and take a step back; because giving her more would be a guarantee on the cards. Her palm lands on the left side of your chest, feeling your heartbeat. You indulge in pulling a wisp of her hair off from her forehead, those doe eyes looking up at you while she treats herself by licking up your load off her fingers. 

She hums. It’s only the two of you. Everything you or her ever needed is trapped in this space. 

Rosé teases with the tip of her tongue, showing the evidence being down into the space of her mouth - in her throat, seeing her neck bob up while her head tilts to this sultry gaze, a damming smile forming again, hinted with a small peek of her teeth. She then manages to get a hand around your length - fingers still soaked with your cum, languidly pumping without care - since the reaction could be substituted as a reflex. “I think you have more to offer for me.” 

“God, Rosé-” you say, and she just laughs; the sound alone is impossible to ignore, but her snark, the words and things she tells you from time to time - it alters your brain chemistry. She’s always been like this. 

“What? Am I wrong?” She asks, ghosting your upper profile to give you the hint that she needs some breathing room, rolling herself over where her back is now in view, and not to mention her fucking ass- 

“No, you’re not,” you answer, hovering over the nape of her neck, pressing a few kisses down the curve. “If anything, you’re doing a terrific job of keeping my mind off of certain things.” 

Her knees dig into the mattress, lifting her backside to the front of your hips, her slick still there, smothering the top of your length. You hold her down from the shoulders and slide your knees up to the proper placement. She’s giving an offer, alright - one that you simply cannot refuse. 

“Good.” Rosé chuckles, breathing low as you’re grazing the head of your cock over the pucker of her ass, teasing it around her folds. “I hope I can keep up the work for you. Make you not worry about any other thing besides me. God that would be amazing. Can you? For me?” 

“Make me fuck your brains out as my only worry,” you concur. “Doesn’t sound that bad to do again.” Her head dips down into the sheets when you’ve got your cock slowly working its way back into her creaming pussy, hips becoming flush with yours, relishing in the perfect fit - the gorgeous press of those walls, it does something to a man. 

You’re imagining the widest smile on her face, knowing that she’s won you back. It doesn’t make sense yet, the bits and pieces of your mind not lining up with the actions. Rosé’s yelp gets muffled, in response to the press of her lower half into the mattress, hands pressing both asscheeks together, tightening the noose around your length, letting the drag make your cock throb even harder. 

“I’ve fucking missed this,” she rasps, the last exhale shoved out of her once you’ve managed to nudge your cock back inside her. The latter of everything is this: the steady breaths, the audible slide of slick, and the slap of skin. 

A hand reaches out to her hair, holding her head down to the mattress along with the rest of her body, arm slithered to the underside where the waist is, a placeholder as your hips snap forward. The whimper she lets out is a clear implication that your bag of tricks is doing a number on her. 

“Taking me so well. God, Rosie. This pussy is amazing. Look at you,” you praise, growling as she continues to babble beneath your touch. 

And the innocent giggles can hide so much of the absolute pleasure she’s enjoying. She’s a real-life venus fly trap: pulling you in with her smile, her eyes, and her charisma; only for you to be wrapped around her little finger and quite literally, her leg. “How cute. You were full of shit not that long ago. For a second I figured you’d be having second thoughts.” 

You smack her ass and grab both sides of cheeks on her face. A statement. A warning. 

“Watch your mouth,” you grit, and you swear that you’ll stay true to your word. 

“Alright, just- ah, fuck me, like that. Your cock hit that same- hngh! Please, just fuck me like you mean it. Rail my ass until I’m on my knees apologizing. I promise, just dick me down-’ 

The pace picks up and you’ve lost all remorse. You’ll bounce her cunt on your cock regardless if she’s asking for it or not. In the present case that she is, giving it to her was an easy decision. Her pussy is the missing piece of a puzzle that you always wanted to complete anew, and it’s right in your hands and on your hips. 

Rosé’s face twists over her shoulder, eyes fluttering in unadulterated pleasure, tensing and unraveling each passing stroke you have on her. The secret’s already out: you missed her, and she missed you. You’ll have the desire to take this moment away and put it in a chest, only for it to be tossed to the bottom of the sea, where no one else will know of its existence. 

“Have me over and over,” she says, “if that’s all you ever wanted, I’d let you.” 

You weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into, and when you’ve made her cum the second time, and third soon after - she’s a sobbing mess, voice wrecked, you’re also there with her, she’s got you by that much. 

–

The first snowfall meets the cloudy skies when the light peeks through the drapery. Or at least when your vision is coming around while Rosé’s posture straightens when she sits up - clutching the comforter from the bed close to her body as she looks over her shoulder to you. Her friz of bed hair is apparent at the ends, not to mention her bare back, the first hint of red marks at the bottom of her neck - you’re drawing the assessment up as you go. 

“Cold?” you ask, leaning your head back into the pillow behind. “That’s a shame.” 

“Says the one who doesn’t have anything on along with me,” Rosé chuckles, swirling around facing you. You’ll be left there to just observe and stare more times than you can probably count on your own ten fingers. 

Then she lets the blanket fall; her version of a curtain raiser. 

It isn’t anything new really, but you catch yourself blinking a lot faster than usual; the blotches of red spread across her chest, mixed with the paleness of her skin. Her waist emulates this hourglass shape that almost looks unreal for one to have; there’s also neck and collarbones, and you’re looking everywhere from her face to her hips - lustful would be an understatement of her efforts. 

“You could give me one of your hoodies again,” she’s saying, sliding her hands into the crease beneath her shoulders, looking down to the crimson marks. 

“Tempting.” 

She tilts her head the other way, a soft hum reflected off her smile. The rosy blush is a highlight; the reruns of all the moments with her keep coming back, and you’re certainly here for all of them. “You can’t turn me down.” 

“And if I did, it would be a tragedy,” you say, pulling her into your embrace as she spins around again, her hand scratching the side of your head, nose buried into the curve of her neck, “thankfully, that won’t happen with you.” 

“Let’s go exploring the city today,” Rosé proposes, back arching to the adjustment of your hold. “I can put in a reservation for that one restaurant with the fancy snails and seafood.” 

“Isn’t that like-” you snort, “eighty percent of the restaurants around here anyway?” 

“Only if you’re not looking deep enough.” 

“Your call,” you agree, turning your head to put a proper kiss, tasting the sweetness of cherry or strawberries. Her fingers trail across your forearms while yours are grazing her waist, her breasts - you’re one for physical touch, a little too much for your liking but in this case is it justified? Absolutely. Who wouldn’t? “I can carry you to the shower if you’d like.” 

Rosé’s eyes close, fluttering. Lips pulled inward to a smirk. She’s enthralled with the notion - the affinity of how you treated her before. “Mmmmm. I think: yes please.” 

–

(So you do carry her. Frankly, your fingers digging into the plush skin of her ass, sinking her back onto your cock; palms holding the tile, then slipping - her back to the wall as her feet dangle past your backside. Rosé’s moaning into the shell of your ear one second, kissing you the next - like the world would end at any given moment, hands pressing your face deeper into hers in the wash of rain above, encouraging you to give in. 

She was doing whatever it took to creep herself back into the nook of your mind, and so far it’s working; rewriting your nerves and synapses, corralling with her tongue and lips in all the ways that swept off your feet before, her grin against your chin all the easier to bite down and swallow. “You swear not to tell anyone about this, promise me.” The only telltale point of accountability laid out on the table, in the space opened between your lips and hers - a brief pause, stalled negotiations, ending with an everlasting proposition that you’ll submit to when she finally says: 

“Not a soul. Promise.”)

–

You’re shrugging your shoulders up to your ears, hoping to keep in some of the heat trapped in your body. An instinct; and with the right amount of layers of fabrics, it makes the job a whole lot easier to do. Simple as that. 

Rosé eventually did manage to steal one of your hoodies from your luggage. Not that you were complaining about it. As much as you hate to admit it, the girl did have a knack for styling different articles effortlessly to the point where you can’t even tell if she’s wearing your clothes or her own. She’s got a red scarf for today’s outing, properly complimenting the other shades below while she’s fixing her appearance in the mirror of the restaurant, patting down her hair with you coming right behind to transfer some of the warmth onto her. 

You’re getting a few whiffs of her perfume. Cinnamon and something rustic, cozy, and she just gives you a beaming smile off the reflection in front of you. Her hand goes into the pocket of her overcoat: a small digicam, turns it on and points it to the mirror - telling you to act candid or cute, whichever one happens to come first. The pull of your arms brings her closer to you, a familiar movement and rhythm when you leaned over earlier while getting ready, talking all sly and prettily as she creams all over your cock. She’s thinking about it also, even while the camera clicks. 

“Would you look at that,” she exclaims, capturing the photo as a personal keepsake, and showing you the photo on the screen soon after. “We look good in this for once.” 

Rosé notices your whole body freeze, rolling your eyes, “Uh, was that supposed to be an insult?” 

Her face shifts to a quick scowl, taken aback by the question suddenly. “Why? Would you rather have me tell you that you’re fucking ugly instead?” 

“Not true. But, hah. That does sound a lot more like you.” 

Your gaze goes back to the glass, and Rosé takes another funny photo for the memories, looking over to the corner of your eyes as the snaps from the camera continue for a few seconds. “How’s my jacket?” 

She pulls the hood to her nostrils, eyelids snapped shut, and inhales. The grin she has all over her face proves to be a clear indicator that the signs are all pointing towards positive. Her figure is still in reach of you, her front opposite to yours. “Comfy, for one,” she then looks up to your chin, syrup eyes looking up with a gentle gaze. “It’s a distinct smell. A one-of-one.” 

“Corny.” 

“And?” 

“Pretty,” is what you end off with, petting her hair which earns you a nose scrunch. “Want me to add on?” 

“You could tell me that I’m special, your angel, or something. Maybe say that I look good, y’know - to boost my ego. You being my one and only, the dream guy I’ve wanted for as long as I liv-” 

“Don’t push your luck,” you’re grinning, because she’s planting the idea so well, the keywords and points of inference to decode and analyze. She’ll inflate your ego so much that you’d have to hold her down in your hands and fuck some proper sense into her - ‘cause it’ll happen again -  probably because she deserves it, which is true. 

–

Later, and by her arm linked to yours, Rosé pulls you into this music club. A jazz bar, or- just a place where they were having an open mic night, the songs having the earworm effect to the point where your feet are following hers. 

The place opens up inside where the seating arrangements are segregated in pairs in the middle from the stage and outwards with the usual booths set at the sides. Some people are sitting, others are dancing, and then there are a few who are just casually conversing and really having a great time. But the wave of nostalgia is hitting a little harder than usual as they’re all riding along with the music. 

“This place is nice,” she tells you, gently bobbing her head along to the cozy ambiance of the band playing on the stage, tugging the cuff of your sleeve towards some open seats to rest your legs and take a breather. 

When you do finally settle your bearings, the seat under you becomes a lot more comfier, taking in the sights and sounds of the live music being performed right in front of you. It wasn’t that long also for the drinks to come flowing in; only this time, you’re more in line with your inhibitions and common sense all because there isn’t any impending stress plaguing your mind. 

Once the setlist’s been played through, the main lead of the band calls out to the audience for anyone who would be interested in singing on the open floor. Pretty straightforward: just name the song for the band members to play and give them a few minutes to get adjusted to the demands of the piece; gotta say, they’re pretty good at what they do. 

“I’m gonna go up there.” Rosé snatches your attention with her spontaneous plan. “It’s been a while since I sang in front of anyone” 

You chuckle, because you remember how she was back in the high school choir years ago. “You’re serious?” The question comes off as rhetorical alone, but you sense that burning passion inside her that fuels everything in her enthusiasm. “By all means, go for it.” 

“Got a song in mind?” She asks, hand resting on your forearm. 

“Don’t have anything in particular,” you answer with a shake of your head. “Surprise me.” 

With that, Rosé shoots her hand up high into the air. The band leader spots her out instantly and calls her up to the stage. Everyone’s eyes are drawn towards her - a mix of applause and whistles to solidify the encouragement, and here you are stuck in your seat hoping that nothing goes wrong while she’s up on stage. You have faith, and it’s just enough to stick by. 

Her introduction is cute to watch; the way that she sounds sends your heart flipping for a millisecond: “Hi my name is Rosé. I’m not from here, but I’m super excited to perform for you guys tonight and I hope that you guys enjoy it. Thank you.” 

You’d have to admit, she does look good when the lights are all on her. 

She picks two oldies that you remember vividly because of your parent's music taste, and the final song catches you off guard, because of the way that she presented it- 

“I’d just like to dedicate this last song to the number one that I hold most dear to in my heart. So if you’re listening to this, wherever you are, I hope you know that I will always root for you - even from afar.” 

-being a classic Bruno Mars song since that’s been one of the few artists she’s been playing on repeat for the entirety of the trip. Her head moves and tilts in alternating directions, really just feeling out the music. 

Once the final chords of the song get played out, the club erupts with a mix of cheers and claps, congratulating her for providing a wonderful show. The gratitude comes out naturally and she gives her thanks, occasionally landing her gaze over to you before looking elsewhere. She realizes the yearning, like how she sensed it while examining the art pieces up close as you were a few steps away. 

It really gets you thinking, just how much you’ve fallen deeper back into the abyss with her. 

–

At some point, you realize that you aren’t getting enough sleep as you’d like. 

And no, it’s not because of the exhaustion of burying your cock deep into Rosé’s cunt, the slide of her folds becoming a relapse of an addiction long locked away. The lines become blurred between right and wrong, considering the incessant begging she keeps putting towards you where you give her exactly what she wants. 

She’s laid on top of you, skin touching skin. You make do by clinging onto her small body since she likes that. 

Rosé looks up, palm to your cheek, thumb canvasing the surface. She leans down for a peck - you lean up to meet her in the middle. Everything about this feels safe; your heart’s beating with a rise in tempo, every move of her hand and head an electric current across your body, the quick blitzes of craving for one another, pulling her close, wrapping her in your clothes, blowing air in the sensitive spots that get her going, whimpering. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: the ex.” She says to you, both hands now to the sides of your face, holding you like an award - a trophy. 

“First of all, ouch.” 

“Don’t take it to heart since you dicked me down not too long ago.” Her face turns over, listening to your heartbeat, legs tangling underneath the sheets. “It sounded a whole lot better in my head, so I thought why not say it out loud,” her tone filled with relief. “I’ve always spoken from my mind anyway, so how is this any different?” 

“That’s-” 

“I’m kidding,” Rosé laughs, “well- partly. I didn’t mean to hurt you again if that’s what you wanted to hear,” in a way she’s right; what also doesn’t help is her hand slithering down your front, to your hips, fingers coiling your length in record time. 

You gasp, tensing up all the muscles in your body. “Fuc- Rosie-” 

“These thoughts that I have, they’re the worst,” she’s telling this like some gospel - a fabled story or prophecy from an oracle, twisting and jerking your hardening shaft while sharing the madness of her hippocampus. “Well? What are you gonna do about it?” 

When she slides you right back into her volcanic heat, your mouth drops. “I think we can figure that out together.” 

She sighs, pressing her lips against your cheek, grinning. Her lower half has a mind of its own: grinding down and settling, where she stays. 

–

You make love with her again. And she screams; it could be heard far and wide past the walls. A guarantee, you said. A promise. It's only you and her, after all.

–

There are multiple ways for one to sign off on their death sentence: a contract, a hearing, a proclamation; where one’s resolve is pushed to the brink where everything that transpires after has to be seen to the end until the lingering thoughts and repercussions are nothing more than just a distant memory. You knew what you signed up for when this trip had its inception, what’s to come when you’re put face first with someone who was supposed to be part of the last chapter in your story. Things like these can be rewritten on a new page for starters, but still keep all the details intact. 

Rosé could be your judge, jury, and executioner for all you know - and still be the one to lure you into the dangerous pits of temptation. 

“Holy shit,” you grit, voice tattered; Rosé’s head dips down as she plants both of her hands on your waist, and adjusts her legs until her heels are rooted into the mattress, testing the angle with an unprompted thrust by you. 

“Don’t move too much,” she commands, the slide of your cock in her pussy slow enough to make you want to rush into it. “I’ll ride you like this. You don’t even have to do a thing.”

“God-” and the giggle she lets out in tandem with her devilish grin serves to be too much for you to bear. A lift up in her squatting position, and her petite ass slams on top of your balls - the deadly pin drop. “Fuck- you’re so good at that.” 

A rise and fall. A one-two in stopping and gyrating. She’s riding you so delicately - in contrast to your style of holding her close to your chest and impaling her upwards. You feel the edge of her palm at your chin - to your bottom lip - and you bite down gently into her hand. 

“I wanna feel it - all inside me,” she’s telling you, a phrase projected into existence, a claim. “Want your cum,” her confidence brightens so much when she’s the one in control, “so fucking bad.” She slides her feet out from under her, grinding harder against your hips, laying her body flat against yours, raising her ass again and back down; the angle is much more deeper than you anticipated. “Using this pretty cunt all for you. I know you like it.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” you growl, and it’s a swear in itself, “can’t get enough of you - this pussy is a dream.” 

“Uh huh,” her face crinkles when she ups the pace. “Tell me all about it. I’ll be your good little girl for you, babe.” This role isn’t her forte, but if the opportunity presents itself, she’ll own the part with flying colors. You could hear and feel the slick spread up to your waist; every gush, smack, and dragged-out moan was all part of a symphony created by you two. She effortlessly bottoms your cock out, and she whines. 

Your arms slither around her back, keeping her in place. She whispers a ‘yes’ in your ears, and licks your temple. 

“Grab me, fuck me. Make me yours,” she murmurs, happily kissing along your cheek as you spread yourself wider, getting the proper measurements right to ruin her. 

The rest of the world fades out as Rosé’s breathing fills up your brain. “Rosé- I’m gonna- fuck-” 

“Oh god- Yes! Baby, I’m close- keep going-” 

When you inevitably cum inside her - filling her up, you’re coaxing through her sobs. Driving your shaft deep where each exhale is a staccato. Your lips find her neck, marking up skin, drinking in the sweat, fucking through her orgasm to the point where she’s pliant and quivering - tiredly nodding in approval and satisfied. 

–

You’re no diplomat, but the advisable action of keeping your phone on do not disturb, limiting contact with anyone other than Rosé was entirely justified. 

(By common sense, how could anyone keep in touch with their significant other after the heinous acts that they’ve committed? Our lives are not defined by any one action, but rather the sum of our choices. Everyone has their reasons - more or less - and sometimes, some don’t even need a reason at all.) 

The messages do pile on throughout the week. Various texts at different times, all on different days. Each one is more desensitizing than the last. 

jen: can you please call me? 

jen: i’ll explain everything 

jen: i’m worried sick 

jen: pls just come home

You’ll deal with clearing out the notification bubbles sometime later when the time is right. 

Rosé’s in the bathroom, door open to slip some of the excess steam out, towel to her bust. Most of the water is soaked into the cloth; her hair is half dry - half damp, combing a little at the ends with a brush, leaning on the door frame. “You think you can help me with something real quick?”

“Hm? And what would that be?” you ask, slipping on a shirt. 

She’s in the middle of the walkway now. 

“Just need some attention in a few spots,” Rosé says, very nonchalantly. Pulls apart the towel from the two folds, lets it pool at her feet. Her being naked isn’t enough to sway you into pushing her back into the shower and well- yeah. She knows it’s gonna take a lot more than just that. “Preferably the ones where you didn’t touch earlier, to be more specific.” 

“Could’ve said you wanted more,” you laugh. “Didn’t have to sugarcoat it.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Rosé asks, deadpanning. She sways her body where her bare ass is now in view, hips moving side to side on the balls of her feet, looking over her shoulder to solidify the image. “We got a little more time on our hands and besides, it’s Christmas Eve.” 

You’re back following her in a heartbeat. 

–

You may be sloppy and shameless, but you are also very intricate in how you approach things. It’s in how your mouth moves: precise, calculated - licking down her slutty little waist, to her clit, getting everything you’ve ever needed between those glorious thighs of hers. 

On your knees like you’re in reverence, you’re worshiping Rosé’s pussy; hoping that she could give you the blessing of eating her out like it’s your one-way ticket to heaven. The insides of her thighs press inward, her fingers in your hair pulling you exactly where she wants. 

Rosé almost slides off the bathroom counter when she finally cums. She’s yelling her heart out, hissing through her teeth. Neither of you are thinking about the possible noise complaint that you’ll get for the sixth time this week. 

“Fuck, yes,” she huffs, pressing your head harder with her legs. “Yes- yes, just that.” 

You raise yourself and give your fingers the fill, nipple between your teeth while the knuckle curls inside- 

She grasps at your neck - like you’re going off to war and she’s bagging on the chance she’ll never see you again, “Baby, I can’t say this enough,” she rasps, whining a high pitch when you hit her favorite spot, “I literally need you to ruin me,” and you nod, because you will. 

Doesn’t take that long for her to cum again soon after, figuratively off the cliff face first. Her body goes limp, eyes glossy, panting as if she’s dehydrated. She keeps her legs closed, your hand caught in the crossfire, hoping that you’ll stay once the sun shines after the storm. 

Once the clouds of lust finally pass the both of you: 

“Good use of our time actually, what do you think?” 

Rosé looks up to you, hand on her cheek, wiping the dry stream of tears. 

“We can still go,” she sighs. “I just need a few more minutes because, fuck, can’t think straight when you’re staring at me while I’m like this.” 

“Saying that I went too far?” 

“No- but,” her groan makes you chuckle, “that’s not it. It never is, I-” 

“I?” you carry on with the overhanging thought. 

“I know that you have different sides, but this- this one is just- I don’t know, to me, it just feels right.” 

She manages to get herself up from the edge of the bed, legs a bit wobbly but manageable. You’re patting down her overcoat and adjusting the scarf around her neck, cupping her face. Her hands find yours stacked on top. 

“Not letting me go, hm?” Rosé asks, humming. “That’s not very kind.”

“Want me to carry you? ‘Cause I can most definitely do that, if it makes it easier,” and it comes off so casually. You’ll stay true to your good intentions, worrying about the punishment for the crime later. 

Rosé nods, and looks down, kissing the crown of her head. She’s entrapped with this spell of desire, unsure of who got it first. It’s boundless, even when you’re hugging her. Boundless, and you’ve concluded that it’ll stay. 

–

(The muddled wet-suck of her cunt. The grip. Her listless sighs and whimpers of praise plague your brain. You're having your fill; filling her up with your cock like old times. Like it's meant to be.

You fuck her again, and all it takes is one look, and she knows. It's plastered in those rosy pink cheeks at that lip bite that makes you crave her more - it's maddening.

An untethered devotion: you could give her everything she ever wanted.

If it takes the space left open in her heart, you'd pledge yourself to get her back without a second thought.)

–

The time’s ticking; the sands in the hourglass are almost at the bottom. Part of you is torn between finally getting this trip over with and stirred that you and Rosé will probably never see each other again in the coming days. Aside from the rough, raw sex, you also realize that it’s been pretty refreshing to reconnect with the girl that you shared a good third of your life with and fall into old habits as if nothing had ever happened between you two. 

You’re starting to reminisce on how it had all gone wrong. 

Rosé, without a care in the world, stares up into the deep blue sky. The Eiffel Tower still has some guests visiting, sightseeing, and enjoying the present company that they have. You have your phone in your hands, taking pictures of everything within distance. Each click that’s pressed is a reminder of what little you will have to cling to once this fever dream is all done and dusted. 

She’s a bit out of arm's reach from you, enjoying the brisk weather and the overall ambiance that’s happening with the people around her. Her digicam in one hand, phone in the other. At some point she’s recording a guy that’s playing with his accordion, going down his list of Christmas carols, happily nodding along to the joyous tunes. She keeps on snapping photos wherever she happens to see or notice first. Canvassing the area, like a lighthouse with her phone in hand- 

Until her camera finally lands on you. She’s snapping a photo of you. You’re snapping a photo of her. 

(It’s a gunshot without the smoke. Yours and her version of Halley's comet flying over you. The realization settles in: you both fucked up.) 

You stand there motionless - phone lowered and you just look at Rosé. She does the same. Time halts to a standstill as the both of you just admire one another. Your expression is stoic while her’s is filled with an expression that’s told by her glossy eyes and uneven breathing. 

She moves without fail, running towards you; before you know it, she’s jumping in your arms, clinging onto you so hard that it’s nearly suffocating. Her sniffles are a lot louder now, and you start rubbing the back of her head in the same motion that you know brings her comfort. 

“Hey-” Rosé stutters, burying her face into your collarbone. “I- I just, God, I’m such an idiot-” 

“There’s no need for that,” you whisper, “I know. I know.” 

Like always, Rosé’s face is in your hands yet again; wiping away the tears and cradling her as if nothing else had mattered. You chuckle at the sobs she lets out, and she hits your arm. “Can we-” you’re rubbing her head still to help gather her thoughts, “can we go back to the hotel now? I think we’re good for today.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll do that. Okay. Let’s go back.” 

–

(Midway on the walk back, you decide to bet it all on the line. If it doesn’t happen now, the chances of it happening later become less likely.

“I need to stop by somewhere for a sec,” you’re telling Rosé with a sudden clutch of her hand to stop her. “Wanted to surprise you with a gift.” 

Rosé furrows her brows together, but shakes her head, smiling. “Promise you’ll meet me back at the hotel?” 

“Won’t be long, I promise.” You reassure, kissing her and her hand soon after.) 

–

You’ve never been so fast to come back to someone in your life, bouquet of roses in hand like those tv melodramas that always milks the simple moment for absolutely no reason. This might feel like one of those moments, all honesty considered, but who’s really to judge when you’re preparing for the inevitable. 

The keycard slots itself in, followed by the click of the lock once closed. You notice that the lights were already dimmed - the actual preference you and Rosé agreed on after the first night, the only difference was the trail of undergarments leading to the open area of the room. 

And that’s when you see her. 

She’s knelt on the bed, a singular rose in her hands. Her outfit is uncovered by the layers of pants, hoodie, and scarf - revealing a lingerie set on her that you’ve never seen before, painted in scarlet red. It highlights her natural complexion, not to mention her hair - she’s the literal image of your long-lost wet dreams come to life. 

“Like what you see?” Rosé asks, staring while you remain motionless. 

You drop the bouquet in your hand, not for dramatic effect of course, but in utter shock at how well the fabrics meld onto her clad body. 

She takes the hint, moving herself closer to you, on the edge of the bed while your hands ghost her figure - unsure of where to even begin. 

“I’ve said this countless times before,” you say, heart rate spiking when her palms land on your chest, “but you look amazingly good in that.” 

Her hand pulls you by the neck, and gives you a quick kiss after that. “Why thank you,” says Rosé, lip caught to her teeth when your hands slide across the lower plane of her back, resting above her ass. “I had a few other options in mind, but I always knew that your favorite color was red.” 

“Aw. So thoughtful.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“I will.” 

Rosé laughs at that. Aside from the figurative meaning, she’s aware that you can back that up. 

“Do you know why? Why I broke up with you then?” Rosé asks, face shifting to a wistful gaze. Your body freezes at the sudden question, wide eyes locked with hers as open as they can be. She twirls the rose in her fingers for a few seconds, places it at your middle, finding her words. 

“Still can’t put all of that together, you know.” You’re telling her. 

“We were young back then. We still are.” She confesses, palm to your chin as you’re doing the same. “I thought that you didn’t care how we were - like you didn’t love me anymore. Even at first now, you were such a fucking dick-” 

“Ros-” 

“Shut up, let me finish. It made me realize at that moment where I- I tho-” her words are becoming more and more shaky, you can tell in the irregular breathing, “I thought you fell out of love with me.” 

The harsh sting of truth still hurts when you’re thinking back on it for a second. It wasn’t a one person show, however, but you contributed to most of the downfall of the relationship in the past. You’ll own up to the mistakes somehow, someway; if you had the chance, you’d do it without a second thought. 

“It made me realize, this whole trip, I saw the old you,” Rosé confesses, keeping her emotions at bay as best she can, “Like how did you know that I’ve wanted a dream trip to Paris for the longest time? How long did you work on this before we- oh, right.” 

You’re laughing a bit here. Could be the psyche of trying to not come to terms with the feelings. “Use your words, it’s okay.” 

“You treated me so well this past week, putting up with my shenanigans and such, forcing you to walk wherever I go but I’m just- fuck. It fucking sucks with how we are now.” 

“I’m still hurt too,” you admit, wiping a tear off of Rosé’s cheek. “I hoped that us being here would give us some closure - which is working, but I also hope that we can still be happy as friends once all of this is over.” 

Rosé nods, sniffling. “Won’t be easy, but we can try.” 

You seal your lips with hers, finally breaking the dam of longing that you’ve been holding back until now. Her mouth burns a hum down her throat, hands weaving across your shoulders, the passion instantly infectious. 

She pulls away with a heavy sigh, “Prove it.” The words match her eyes of determination and urging. “Make love to me.” 

You’re not far from her, and you’ll follow no matter what. 

Her face is hot: scorching and engulfing at the same time. She’s quick to slip you off of your jacket - your hands fiddling with the lace decorated all over her body, pulling on your bottom lip, giving you no chance to regroup and re-hit the areas that you want to take; she’s prioritizing in keeping you close, unwilling to loosen her arms once the grips have been set. 

The fingers find the small latch of her bra, feeling her chest rise in your other hand. 

She’s peeled you off of your shirt, claiming scratches on your skin. 

You’ve got an angel within your reach - from the echelons of heaven and earth above. She’s gracing her presence onto you to the point where you will do anything to prove your devotion to her, hoping that she’ll grant you your deepest wishes - and make you forget about your darkest regrets. 

Rosé’s so responsive and you love it. Her octave goes up a key when you’re fondling along lone breast; dividing and conquering in two places at once with your other hand palming the dampness of her panties. She pulls you onto the bed, a lasso of truth that you’ll always submit to. Whispering sweet nothings, begging you to keep going; telling you more, more, and more. 

Your eyes, no matter how many times you’ve dozed off into the distance, have always landed back on Rosé in some way or form. Amidst everything, you’re magnetized to the way her eyes looked now: dangerous, wanting, hooded - as if the shades of lust have completely taken over her thoughts and with her as the vessel to carry all of those bad deeds out, as if you were the only one who could control this growing feeling. 

When she finally settles on the pillows, the heat’s already become too infectious, her face flushed and lips generally parted, waiting for your return. You go for her neck, and her body tenses, back arching and heels sliding up the sheets, unsure of where to rest as you’re catering to her lovely neck. 

“How bad do we want this?” you start, fingertip to your lip before wetting it. “You up for it?” 

Rosé bites her lips as always and nods. “Fuck,” she gasps, taken off guard by your lips to her collarbone again. “I want it.” 

A press deep into the slick center of her panties only solidifies what she’s implying. 

Her hands work with yours, sliding her out of the last piece like clockwork, her tongue clashing against yours as she shuffles herself up against the headboard, but you lean down to keep her in place. The sooner you pin her down to reach her soft spots, the more likely she’ll break within minutes - it’s all part of the plan. 

Giving her a heads up wasn’t an option, and that’s proven so when your fingers slide up against her slick folds, getting a feel for what’s to come when you eventually push inside and spread her open, teasing by dipping no more than your fingernail into her cunt, rubbing her clit to up the sensitivity. 

“You fucking tease, I know- ah-” she spits, squirming at your touch, the friction becoming a necessity. Her inner thighs press together, holding your hand hostage. That only prompts you to traverse your fingers deeper into her pussy, and she moans. “R-right there.” 

She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, or her legs, let alone her entire body in this state. The pleasure is too much to bear, and the snowball effect keeps on building. You kiss her again to keep her mind off the finger fucking you’re doing to her; she digs her nails into your forearm, pulling you by the neck to deepen the lip lock. As much as you’d love to eat her out into the night, the way that she is right now is just enough for your satisfaction. 

“God, yes- fuck-” 

You know that she’s almost there; all it takes is a little push. She’s grinding her hips against your hand, the three digits inside her too much to handle. Each whimper and moan and sigh she lets out is nearly bittersweet to hear and witness - pitiful that she got herself like this for you, and there’s nothing that she can do about it. 

“Gonna make you cum so much,” you say huskily, pressing your forehead against hers as you feel her eyebrows mesh and rise, unsure of what to focus on. But you know exactly what it is, and it’s that euphoric rush that she won’t admit to having a craving for. “Can you do that for me? Be my good little girl and do as I say?” 

Her bobbing goes frantic; she doesn’t care either way, it’s happening regardless. 

“These fucking fingers,” Rosé grits, her first words that aren’t an ‘mmm’ or ‘ah’ or ‘hah’ in a while. “Baby, baby, holy shit, you’re fucking me so well with your hand, I’m so close- shit, I’m so fucking close.” 

“Yeah? Let go, Rosie. I want to see you cum for me.” She pulls you in to keep her mind off of your hand, hips bucking at an insane rate. You could feel the shake in her thighs, sliding in and out of her cunt - the press of your thumb on her clit an additional point of pressure. Her eyes open and close, lazily matching the pace of your fingers and steadying. 

All it takes is one more slide; one more press, and she’s fucking gone. 

The sight is the holy land you’ve managed to see time and time again: watching her cum on your fingers. It’s in the rosy blush spread on her face, and you’re pretty sure that she’s squirted a bit onto your arm, but you bear no mind to that. 

“There we go, would you just- look?” You’re enamored, amazed. Your Rosé is so pliant and willing to let you have control so easily that it shouldn’t be this straightforward to do. 

“God, the fucking mess. Rosé-” 

And the sigh is just heavenly. 

She’s shaking her head in disbelief. Your fingers are still inside her, hauling past the edge of her orgasm that she can’t do anything about it. 

You eventually give her a minute or two to breathe. Because she deserves it. 

Unfortunately: one thing was never going to be enough for someone like Rosé. 

Because she’s the kind of person who will always want to see things to the end. Usually, there’s a pause, a breather, probably the overhanging thought of what you’ve done to her again for the thousandth possible time on this trip - in these four walls - a glass of water would also suffice, or a bathroom break, but not tonight. 

Rosé’s fingers are fast around the button of your pants, and you get the hint right away. You can easily tell from the glint in her eyes that if you don’t take her cunt and fuck her apart the way that she wants, there’s certainly going to be irreversible damage. This is all you are doing. It’s the match of madness that you don’t want to admit but accept wholeheartedly. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insane?” You ask, hand coiling her waist, pulling her close, thumb at the edge of her belly button. 

“Hmm, I think someone has, but I might need a refresher of sorts,” Rosé replies, a sultry smile as she watches you lick up her mess spread across your digits. “Add that to the number of things you’re willing to fix.” 

“Who said anything about fixing?” You dart back, reining her in by the waist, listen close to the stack of laughs, break down with every rumple and fold you do to her arms and legs. 

She glances at your throbbing cock waiting at her entrance, slipping the tip right in as a test, the rest to follow along until the noises coming out of her are broken, relieved. 

“Okay,” she’s saying, shimmying down your length, and raising her hips. “Impress me.” 

So, you get one thrust in for good measure, her hands braced around your back and legs finding a foothold around your hips. “How’s that so far?” 

Rosé’s fucking arch. Her pussy grips around you like a fist - hot and tight. She looks up and then at you, softer, prettier, and you’re beginning to wonder if it was ever worth getting stranded with her for a week and not ending up like this. It’s in the sound, the feeling; fucking her in this fashion: sliding yourself in and out of her so nicely. Clinging. Dragging. Every night after the first has always been like this. And the things she says: 

“Bet that feels good, right?” Pulling you from the back of your head, leaning down. “Just keep- keep, fuck, baby, like that. Holy shit, I fucking can’t-” 

Here she goes again: the praising. She’s scratching your scalp, patting your back. Nails down your spine. The tempo has her gasping in a sweet tone. “Have you like this and fuck, goddamit,” you sigh, and she looks at you like she knows what the fuck you’re talking about. 

You snap into her hips a little harder the next stroke. Pounding deep in her cunt was the eventual endgame. Her stomach dips with her next breath. Sucks her lips in. 

Oh, and that whimper; that bubbling whimper mixed into a wail of some sort. She’s looking at you; deep into your eyes where she wishes to see that part of that universe she knows she should’ve never left in the first place. Her smile is lazy. She’s got that fucked-out gaze written all over her. 

“Too much?” you say, diving into the curve of her jaw to where she moans at the contact. 

“Never,” she mumbles, cock drunk at the continuous pressing you’re doing inside of her. 

“Good,” you rasp. 

“Baby, baby, baby,” Rosé purrs, nails clawing away the skin and sweat off your back, clutching, “Please keep fucking me.” 

You bite a patch of skin away from the underside of her chin. You would rather be on the back foot here - dialing it down, but she won’t utter a complaint; she wants to feel this, how hard you can be with her. She’s taken you plenty of times before, getting her so wet at the thought of fucking her raw and dumping your load until it’s dripping down her inner thigh, watch her gasp and beg for the taste when you pull yourself out and she’s almost at the edge too. 

“Not leaving you until I’ve had enough,” you’re panting, carving your dick down to the base, thumbing her clit, a twisted evil smile painted across your lips when she’s wailing out of her mind - the mere image and sound of it is obscene. 

The pace is unrelenting, it wasn’t long until she’s cumming over your cock again, and again, and again - cutting off all the tension that’s building up in her spine as you’re holding the shivers spread across her body, unable to fight back but let you take her pussy so fucking well that the noises are bouncing off the walls, mix the heat into the open air, slide yourself out and slap the head of your cock on her swollen folds before letting her walls clench around your shaft. She might be fucked out, but you know that she still wants it. 

“Please-’ she’s pleading, and you know. You can tell from her face and body alone that she’s not done yet. 

You’re leaning down on top of her again, hooking your arms underneath her shoulders that makes the upper profile of her back fold at a ridiculous curve, and fuck her down that you’re hitting all the right places-

Her chest is heaving, nothing more than just sputtering pants - something that Rosé doesn’t register in her head right away; the air gets trapped at the bottom of her throat, swallowing, her eyes crinkle as there’s no sound coming out. 

You land your lips on hers to ease her mind. “In your nose, Rosie. Like so. There we go. Leave your pussy to me. You’re so good, you’re so so good.” 

Rosé’s head knocks into yours; a fierce wail pierces your ears. You can feel the clench a little tighter when you bottom yourself out; her stomach is moving in a concerning motion. Her gaze on you is almost a mix of shock, tears welling up in her eyes. 

You’re kissing her again, swallowing her cry. “Shhhh.” you comfort her. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” you hush, wrapping your arm to her lower back so she can stay close. “You can cum again baby, I won’t hold you back.” 

Her head goes sideways, the first domino to fall. You can see her mouth shape into something coherent - probably a dragged-out wheeze, okay, fuck, just, yes. 

“More, please, give me more,” she says. “Your cock, its- fuck, baby- I-” 

“I know sweetheart,” you croon, impaling your cock deep in her cunt. “I’m working with you here. You’ll let me use your pretty little pussy whatever way you like, huh?” 

It’ll be seconds before Rosé cums again, the wear and tear your minds and bodies are having are reaching its peak. The other times of fucking were just a competition of who can get off the other first. This time it was different; now it was getting someone over the edge first over the other - no telling how far this has gone on the scales of fucked up. 

She mouths a ‘yeah’, and the situation has never been more clear. You have to fuck her. You can’t help yourself. The nodding is only prompting you to keep going, her voice completely shattered. “Just- use me.” 

Right in the clamp of her melting cunt. In the tightening of her legs. 

“Fucking-” she’s sobbing at this point; you’ve got yourself in the prime position to where your cockhead hits the deepest spot of her cunt. “s-so good. That’s so fucking good, you’re pounding me so well-” 

She shrieks when you’ve pushed her past that brink. You’re entirely certain that it was your doing. 

This was the swan song you’ve sought out to hear. A hymn played in a time of reflection - collecting your thoughts and offering them to Rosé, hoping that she can accept your blessings and absolve you of your crimes, ordaining yourself to all good actions from this point moving forward. You’ll take this liturgy for as long as you’d like; worshiping her body and listening to all the psalms that are coming out of her mouth, holding her close as she rides out the lasting remnants of her orgasm - your name as a saint’s prayer and one that she’ll keep on speaking in tongues with over and over and over until she believes it to be true. You confess, through these harsh thrusts into her cunt with your cock, choking on the vice with a vicious finesse at the angle. 

(You’d wish you stayed at the cathedral a little longer than you did that day; confessing your sins was always going to be easier than pouring a heart out for someone who ripped it right out of you.) 

“Amazing,” you praise, and Rosé does this mix of a smile and a wince when you’re wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Her hands guide yours down to the crease of her hips, enabling you to rock her cunt down like the lovely woman that she is. 

Her voice is rattled, helpless. Like she’s been chopped up, the cracks clear as day where the faults formed. “Want- want it- I want your cum, so fucking bad, please-” 

You grin when she grins, finally reaping the reward when you tug yourself up and splatter your cum all over her body. Her chest does this circular motion, arms digging deep into the mattress beneath her, wanting her skin to be soaked so well with your release. She can’t stop moaning. She doesn’t want to stop moaning. 

“Finally,” she sighs, whimpering, mouth twisting to a satisfied smile at the corners. “God, it’s so fucking much.” 

Her hand picks up the mess spread across her waist, wraps it around your cock in no time flat. The laugh she lets out when you groan is just sinister. 

Two can play that game.

She freezes when you slide your cum-soaked cock back into her dripping cunt; listen closely at the mere gush as you slide in once more. 

“Babe-” 

You push. 

“Think I can give more, just for good measure,” reassuring, and you hold her down so hard that the next load you give is caught deep inside her cunt. 

Pushing it all back in, where it stays. 

Her eyes pinch - and there’s no voice to be heard. All that’s shown is her slacked jaw, the air in her lungs passing through, soon filled with the shape of your lips pressed against hers. 

"It's so- it's so fucking warm inside me, baby-"

"Yeah?"

Rosé sniffles again as her body tries to shudder out the cum leaking from her slit. You don't let it happen though.

You keep breathing her in; she brackets your hips with what little strength she has left. It doesn’t take much, and you know. 

Because Rosé’s got you right where she wants, to the point where your bodies are so well molded into one where each heartbeat and thought are the same, feeling the suction of her pussy wrapped around your cock like it’s the missing piece. Half of ones together make a whole. Your cock fits so well. Above the soreness and debauchery. Once the mess is finally made. Where you’ll want to keep your cock warm and settled until you or her have finally had enough. She’s speaking nonsense still; and you just- keep- fucking going. Fucking into her cunt like it's the only thing you know how to do. Even when the throbbing subsides. 

Until you decide to fully embrace her. 

The heat’s still present where it stays; you don’t even make a move to clean yourself up - it’s too early for that. Instead, the sheets are pulled over you and her, take her fingers in your hands, and hold them right as they are. 

You look at the clock on the nightstand; a little before midnight. “We’re showering together, right?” Rosé pouts her lips, burrowing her head into the space of your collarbone, hand held up and over scratching your hair. 

“Yeah,” she says, nestling her head further up against your chest. “A few minutes here, please. With me. Stay with me.” The disarm is already in effect, and you wonder if you’re at the right place and at the right time; where your heart should be, it’s a brief period of pensiveness. 

–

You blacked out. When your vision comes to, there’s nothing much for your eyes to see except the endless void of darkness that stretches over the room until the glow from the streetlights below breaks through the window. Each blink you do makes you wonder how much time has passed - along with the countless questions of what’s to come next. The thrum of your heart pounds heavy against your ears, but you’re breathing, and alive. You also notice that the space on your right side is a lot lighter compared to earlier, the quick rush of anxiety plaguing your mind. 

That all changes when you look out the window again, specks of white floating down gracefully. 

It’s snowing again. 

“Oh, you’re up,” Rosé’s voice instantly reels you, towel wrapped around her neck and in some comfortable clothes. “I was just about to wake you.” She crawls back on the bed to your side and kisses your cheek. The moment alone holding your heart in limbo. “Sorry, I thought I’d get ahead and use the shower first. You looked so peaceful sleeping.” 

Only she would be the one to blame for that. 

“Why are you dressed up?” You ask, fixing your posture and leaning into Rosé’s face for another quick kiss. She draws away playfully, wagging her head a ‘no’ that makes you lean back as a result. “We would’ve saved water if we went together.” 

“It’s fine,” Rosé tuts, ruffling your hair. “Go shower and get dressed. I wanna go for a walk.” 

“Really? Why? Right now? It’s late.” 

“But it’s also Christmas,” Rosé adds, walking away while you’re finally sitting on the edge of the bed. “We won’t be out for long. And besides, what’s wrong with a little more cardio?” 

You give her a smirk at the end in agreement. Her feet are cemented in place until you reach forward with an arm, pulling her in. Once reeled she tilts her head in surrendering because she knows that you'd be clingy without explicitly saying it.

She's back on your lap. She's yours. She can be yours again. A wish that you want to make true.

"Gonna let me go?" Rosé asks, giggling, and you kiss her.

"Maybe," you answer, leaning up for another peck since it's not hurting anybody. "Just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas."

–

When the snowflakes hit your skin, part of you on the inside is jumping for joy. It’s even better as your ears are filled with Rosé’s contagious laughter, running up the sidewalk and picking up clumps of snow in her hand. 

You make sure to be right behind her, for as much as you can.

–

“This whole thing has been a blast,” she says, slowing her pace when you and she are on the edge of a bridge. In the late hours in the city, where anyone could get away with anything, it’s just you and her - five feet apart from each other, walking along, wandering wherever your feet go. “An absolute dream come true for me. For us.”

The snow starts to land on your head along with your shoulders. 

“Part of me makes me wonder,” Rosé continues, hands wrapped around her long scarf, keeping her neck warm, nodding her head side to side when her eyes eventually land on the sea of locks put on the fencing of the bridge. She knows exactly where she is. You know exactly where she took you. “Would any of this be different if we didn’t go our separate ways?” 

“It’s a pretty good thought,” you tell her. Your exhale shows your warm breath dissipating into the cold air, causing you to bunch up your shoulders to your ears to make the heat stay. “Makes me wonder if you’d put it in your old diary back in middle school.” 

“Hey. Fuck you.” 

You shrug your shoulders with a smirk and walk closer to her. “I know you. You would.” 

Her feet stop at a random padlock just underneath the railing. She slides it into her palm, examining it. It’s not anybody she knows in particular - just the fact that what stood out to her was the neat handwriting of the initials drawn up in a Sharpie. You feel her gaze on you when you approach her side, taking a closer look at what’s in her hand, slotting your palm underneath. 

She keeps staring at the lock, leaning your face into your chest. You bury your nose in her hair, thoughts trailing to someplace where you don’t want to think about anything else. 

You point at another fancy lock decorated with gems. She points out an old-fashioned one next to you. 

‘Hey,” she says once more, looking up. The lift in your eyebrows serves as the appropriate response. Silence starts to grow between you two, the gust of wind blowing through your bodies. 

Rosé tries to read into your expression: stoic and mysterious. She knows that you’re not one to vocalize your thoughts out loud - instead, you stay quiet and listen obediently, waiting for your turn to speak when it’s the right time. A soft smirk spreads across her lips, knowing exactly what’s going on in that brain or yours. 

You wrap your arms around her and rest your chin on top of her forehead. “I think you have a general idea of what I’m thinking about right now.” 

She’s laughing into your chest, unable to look up. You look down to see what was taking her so long, only to realize that she’s hiding her tears away from the world. 

Somehow, like before, you know exactly how to comfort her when the emotions are starting to boil within her. “Rosie.” You’re saying her name softly, clutching her tighter now, the grasp of your fingers reaching to where you wish for them to stay. 

“I just wished that maybe-” and her voice breaks. Composure is starting to weigh down on your shoulders; heart rate rising in uncertainty. “Maybe if weren’t such idiots back then, we-” and the sentence doesn’t even get finished there. She’s trying so hard to put her thoughts into words, “like maybe in another life we weren’t like- well, this.” 

Her face is back in your hands, the tears building and spilling all at once. You give her a look of sorrowfulness - hopelessly, desperately, longing to make her realization a reality. 

“Memories, Rosé,” you’re telling her, “they’re all just memories. We don’t need the memories. Depreciating yourself isn’t gonna make anything better because we both grew.”

The tears well up in your eyes, too. You may be broken, but she’s also the same.

"I hope you can forgive me for a lot of things; for cutting you off and leaving you in the dark," she tells you, jaw twitching - unable to make eye contact, linking her fingers with yours, "but if there's one thing you choose to never forgive me on, my dear, is the fact that I wasted all your precious years."

(I know, you’re saying to her, in tandem with a verse that you’ll recite as penance once you and her part ways. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care about any of that. I just want the both of us to be there for each other, no matter what happens in between.) 

–

As of now, you’re mentally checked out from all the logistics once everything’s been checked in at the airport, waiting to board. Rosé’s dozed off on your arm. She thought that it was a good idea to get less than the usual six hours of sleep and her current state serves to be the consequence. The scarf draped around her shoulders was yours, adamant in wanting to save another keepsake from you; she claims that it looked better on her. (Which is a bit of an insult, you think. Though it’ll do the job of covering up the bruises along her neck just fine.) 

But, things are played out differently in the final act of the return trip. 

You hear her flight announce the boarding phase and tap her shoulder to wake her up. She shoots up instantly, blinking. Everything else falls into place: gathering her belongings, rolling up her luggage to where she can grab and go, fixing up her appearance with that one pair of sunglasses that she likes so much, but doesn’t wear just yet. You walk with her to the main walkway of the gates, getting all of the last looks you’ll possibly have in these last few moments. 

The familiarity with distance affects the healthy human mind to think of it as some sort of curse rather than a luxury - depending on the situation, you’ll take it with a grain of salt. 

Her arms are folded with her handbag and jacket, staring at you so eagerly. “So, you just gonna stay quiet this whole time or-” 

You scoff, because it’s the truth - and so like you. “Uh- well, I was just wondering,” you say, scratching your head shamelessly. “Are you sure you want go forward with this?” 

Rosé bobs her head for yes. The decision’s already been made; no point in changing it. “Unless you want to create a shit storm with our friends when we get back, then by all means go for it.” 

“Right.” you deadpan. “Just for accountability.” 

“If things do go south, you know where my flight’s headed. And given the present situation that you’re in, I’m in no position to make that choice for you,” she says, looking over to the tv board to see where her boarding gate was at. “Guess this is it, " she declares, sighing, "any last things or words you want to do or say?” 

You say something. And you do something. You pull her in for a hug, get the last whiffs of her coconut scented shampoo in her hair; she kisses you. You kiss her forehead as her eyes flutter shut; you hold her a bit too long for your liking, but tells you that she doesn’t mind. Don’t be far away, okay? At least let me catch up for once. 

She tells you: never. It’s a running inside joke. The classic game of cat and mouse, an old fabled goose chase; you’ll keep going after her even when you don’t expect it to happen. She’ll lure you back in so easily that all it doesn’t sound terrible as it seems. 

–

When you do settle on the plane, you have your moment of getting the window seat. Your eyes are getting familiar with the arraignment, how cramped the leg room is, the assortment of movies you know that you’ll sleep through. There’s a lot of things circilng around your head; either one at a time or all at once. This fever dream is coming to and end, and you’re left torn to not tell the tale. 

You check your phone and turn off do not disturb, taking in all the notifications that you missed the past few days. The work messages, fill-ins with coworkers and friends; then there’s Jennie’s messages. 

“I’m so fucked.” You manage, muttering under your breath. Tongue tip to your teeth to mentally prepare youself for what’s to come. 

–

(You keep thinking about that night on the bridge, holding Rosé in your arms - in midst of the cold weather hitting you. She tells you that this getaway was everything to her, and it’s the simplicity in the delivery that makes you want to share those snap-shot moments with her even more. Nothing else mattered to you: managing to fall in love with her all over again. 

We can try, you’re saying, we can always try again, and she smiles through the tears. You and me. Together. Properly.

“I’ve always loved the idea of starting over. It’s exciting. All of these things. All of these moments we spent together, it just felt right,” and her gaze goes crestfallen. “Never really thought that I’d come back to you, and I couldn’t be more proud.” 

And once you’re way up in the sky, it does feel like some sort of whirlpool back into the reality of life, the final fade to black shot - you look out the window and ponder: a choice can be made still. All of the stars have to align at just the right time for it to happen. It can happen. You could alter the course of the story if you just made the right calls. Maybe you will. 

Your gaze falls down to the ocean below - and maybe it’s a long shot, winding into a pipe dream. 

You’ll never realize what you can do unless you take the chance.) 

[haecunt]

　　　　　　　　𝚘𝚗　　　❤︎　　　𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎

　　　　✚　.　　. 　　　 ˚　.　　　. 　　　　 ˚　.　　　

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　 ˚　.　

[lisanamjoon]

ROSÉ ✩ BRUNO MARS APT. (2024)