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cloudtransprncy · 2 months ago

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Ningning x Karina x Male Reader | 18k words Tags: 3sum, blowjob, deepthroating, spit play, hair pulling, breast play, nipple play, dirty talk, dominance, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, body worship, rough sex, two hot bitches feral for cock

Bio can wait. The two baddest bitches at school just told you to skip class with them. Who the fuck would say no? Especially when its Karina and Ning.

no this is not in the same universe as "dumb" :P

The moment you push through the doors to your school's dance room, you know your plan for a solo practice is finished. Karina and Ningning are sprawled against the mirror wall, a perfect picture of cool indifference that somehow makes the empty room feel smaller.

They're wearing what they always wear—simple but devastatingly effective. Karina in high-waisted gray sweatpants that pool slightly at her ankles, paired with a fitted black long-sleeve crop zip up that rises just enough when she stretches. Ningning in similar wide-leg pants but with a simple white off-shoulder top that somehow makes her collarbones look like art. Both outfits say "I barely tried" while looking impossibly put-together.

They're those girls at school—the ones with presence, the ones who command attention without trying.

Everyone on the dance team is attractive in their own way—but they have that something extra. You've seen it countless times during team practices: the way other dancers give them space, how even the coach seems to hold their breath when they perform.

Karina's scrolling through her phone, platinum blonde waves cascading over her shoulders as she absently twists a strand of Ningning's dark hair between her fingers. Ningning has one AirPod in her ear, her dark eyes drifting up to catch yours before you even announce yourself. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's cool blonde presence against Ningning's warm, dark features—perfectly complementary in the way they occupy space.

"Of course," you mutter, dropping your bag near the door with a thud that's maybe a little louder than necessary.

Of course they taking up the whole floor (they're not)

You try to play it casual, hyper-aware of every movement you make. That's the thing about being dancers—you notice details. Sometimes you catch Karina's eyes lingering on you during practice, or notice how Ningning always ends up stretching near you, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Just the usual dance team dynamics. You're all physical people; boundaries blur. It doesn't mean anything.

Ningning stretches her arms over her head. "What are you pissed for? There's like, so much space."

"I need the whole floor to go full out," you say, gesturing vaguely to the room. "I'm working on that new combo."

Karina snorts without looking up from her phone. "Yeah, because you need the entire studio to practice the same eight-count for an hour."

Ningning laughs, then tilts her head slightly. "You wanna dip with us instead?" Her blonde-tinted waves fall over one shoulder as she shifts to look up at you, dark eyes expectant.

You're instantly torn. Dance has made you disciplined—fit, clean, and sharp on the floor—and that same discipline usually keeps your grades steady. Usually. But there was that chem test last week. And the English paper you turned in late. And now Bio tomorrow, which you're definitely not prepared for.

"Can't," you say, even as your eyes drift to where Karina's top meets the waistband of her sweatpants. "I've got a test next period. If I bomb another one, Coach will bench me for sure."

Karina finally looks up from her phone, golden-rimmed eyes locking with yours in the mirror. Your reflection stands tall behind theirs, and for a moment, the three of you make a symmetrical composition in the glass.

"That's cute," she says, a smirk playing at her lips. "Choosing bio over us." She shifts, her shoulder brushing against Ningning's, and something passes between them—some silent communication that makes Ningning bite her lower lip to suppress a smile.

"Pussy," Karina adds, the word landing soft but deliberate.

The question hangs in the air, and something in the atmosphere shifts. They're still draped against each other—Karina's head now resting on Ningning's shoulder, Ningning's fingers absently playing with the hem of Karina's top—but their attention is fully on you now. The casual indifference is gone, replaced by a focused intensity.

Karina's eyes narrow slightly, calculating. Ningning's lips part, just barely, like she's already anticipating your answer. The way they're looking at you makes your skin prickle with heat. It's the same look they get right before a performance—that blend of challenge and confidence that says they know exactly how good they are.

The logical part of your brain is still calculating how many points you need on tomorrow's test to maintain your eligibility for the showcase. You've already been warned about your grades. One more missed class and you might actually get suspended from the team. This isn't just about one bio test anymore.

But there's something about the way they're waiting, bodies still intertwined but faces turned toward you in perfect symmetry, that makes the decision feel momentous. Like this is some kind of turning point.

Your jaw ticks, just barely.

"Fuck it," you say finally, slinging your bag back over your shoulder. The relief on their faces is subtle but unmistakable, like you've passed some test you didn't know you were taking. "Say less."

The reason is simple, even if your GPA will suffer for it: you just wanted to hang with the two baddest girls at school. And when they both smile at you—Karina's slow and knowing, Ningning's bright and wicked—you can't bring yourself to regret it.

Not yet, anyway.

…

Ningning's house is just a short drive through the sprawl of suburban Southern California. By the time you arrive, all three of you are armed with Slurpees from a 7-Eleven pitstop—yours blue raspberry, Karina's cherry, and Ningning's a swirled mix of both that she sips like she's solved some great mystery of flavor.

Her room is exactly what you'd expect—a perfect blend of cozy and chaotic. Fairy lights wrap around the ceiling fan, with climbing ivy trailing down from the fixture, casting soft shadows across the walls. Posters cover nearly every inch of white space—Frank Ocean, SZA, Tyler the Creator, Tate McRae, Billie Eilish—with a round mirror breaking up the collage. Monstera plants thrive in the corner next to a small white bookshelf. The whole space glows in the afternoon light filtering through the windows.

You settle on the carpet, back against her bed, Slurpee in one hand, a bag of sour gummy worms in the other. But Karina? She's sitting directly on Ningning's lap, legs draped over hers, body leaned back lazily against Ningning's chest like they've done this a hundred times before. No hesitation, no awkwardness—just pure, easy closeness. They fit together the way bad bitches always do, like they know exactly how to take up space.

Leon Thomas hums from a speaker in the corner, his smooth vocals and the soft R&B bassline weaving into the atmosphere, just enough to fill the comfortable silence.

"Let's play a game," Karina says suddenly, her cherry-red nails tapping idly against Ningning's thigh.

"What kind of game?" You ask, already suspicious.

"Just questions. Truth only." Ningning grins, absently running her fingers through Karina's platinum hair. "I'll start easy. Who's the hottest on the team?"

You glance up from your drink, already knowing exactly where this is going. It's a setup. A trap.

You take a second, not too long, just enough to make it seem like you're actually considering your answer. But you know there's only one right response—the one even they would agree on.

"Chaewon."

"Fuck, such an obvious answer," Karina groans, throwing her head back dramatically. "She's so fucking hot."

"Ugh," Ningning adds, biting her lip. "I tried making out with her at Jungwoo's party last month and she wasn't feeling it. I almost died."

They exchange knowing looks, satisfied, like they'd already predicted your answer before you even opened your mouth. Karina leans back further into Ningning, reaching for her own Slurpee.

"Your turn," Ningning says, nodding at you.

You think for a moment. "Best dancer in the crew?"

"Me, obviously," Karina says without hesitation.

Ningning rolls her eyes but doesn't argue.

"Fair," you concede with a smile.

"My turn," Karina says, her voice dropping slightly. "Ever hooked up with anyone from the team?"

The question hangs in the air. It's an escalation, but not entirely unexpected.

"Yes," you answer, taking a sip of your Slurpee.

Their eyes widen simultaneously. "Who?" Ningning demands, leaning forward.

You shake your head. "That wasn't the question."

Karina narrows her eyes. "Sneaky. I respect it." She turns to Ningning. "That's definitely our next question."

"What about you two?" you ask, deflecting.

Karina shrugs. "Not with anyone from the team."

Something in her inflection makes you pause. "But with each other?"

They exchange a look, this one different—a silent communication you can't quite read. Without saying a word, Karina turns her head, meeting Ningning's eyes with a smirk. Ningning doesn't hesitate. She cups Karina's face and pulls her in, capturing her lips in a kiss that's anything but casual.

Jesusfuckwhat.

Karina's hand slides up to Ningning's neck, fingers tangling in her hair as their mouths move against each other. Ningning's other hand drifts down, boldly palming Karina's breast through her top. You watch, frozen, as Karina lets out the faintest sound against Ningning's lips.

Is this actually happening right now? Your throat goes dry as you try to process what you're seeing, your Slurpee forgotten in your suddenly tense grip.

When they finally part, Karina's lipgloss is smudged, and both are breathing heavier, their eyes dark when they turn to gauge your reaction. Neither says anything—they don't need to. The answer is written all over their flushed faces.

And they're just gonna act like that didn't happen? Like they didn't just—

"Your turn," Karina says, her voice noticeably huskier now, acting like she didn't just have her breast grabbed in front of you. "What's your biggest turn-on?"

You blink, trying to recalibrate. The game is apparently still on, despite the fact that your brain is still processing what you just witnessed.

You swallow. "Someone who takes control without asking."

Ningning smirks, running her thumb across her bottom lip to fix her smudged gloss. "Noted."

What the fuck is happening right now?

It's Ningning's turn, and she doesn't hesitate: "Who on the team did you hook up with?"

You consider lying, but decide against it. "Yujin."

That night in her car after the showcase. Her skin under your hands, the way she bit her lip to stay quiet...

"Shut the fuck up," Karina's jaw drops, her eyes widening with what looks suspiciously like jealousy. "Are you serious?"

"She's hot as fuck too, what the hell?" Ningning looks genuinely offended, sitting up straighter, dislodging Karina slightly. "How are you pulling the baddest girls and we didn't even know?"

Karina narrows her eyes. "When did this happen? And why didn't she tell anyone?"

Because she asked me not to tell anyone. Because it was just that one time. But you just shrug, enjoying their reactions more than you should.

The questions heat up rapidly.

"If you could do anything to anyone in this room right now, what would it be?" Karina asks, fingers now tracing patterns on Ningning's arm.

You consider your words carefully. "I'd rather show than tell."

"Bold," Ningning says with approval. "But you'll have to wait your turn."

"Ever watched porn with someone else?" Karina asks, changing tactics.

"No."

"Wanna start?" Ningning challenges, raising an eyebrow.

The game accelerates. Boundaries blur. Questions become increasingly explicit.

"Where's the riskiest place you've hooked up?"

"What's something you want to try but haven't yet?"

"Have you ever thought about either of us while getting yourself off?"

"If you could do anything to anyone in this room right now, what would it be?"

Your answers grow bolder. Theirs grow filthier. With each revelation, the space between you shrinks, though neither of them has moved from their position.

"Have you ever fantasized about being with two people at once?" Karina asks, no longer pretending this is just a game.

"Yes," you admit.

"Anyone specific in mind?" Ningning presses.

You look from one to the other, letting the silence answer for you.

With each answer, the air in the room grows thicker, charged, until Karina finally shifts on Ningning's lap to face you directly.

"You're pretty hot, you know that?" Her voice is smooth, casual, like she's just stating a fact. She doesn't look at you when she says it, just keeps tapping her nails, waiting to see how you react.

Ningning hums in agreement, finally meeting your gaze. "Especially when you dance."

You shift slightly, a near-imperceptible reaction, but they catch it. Of course they do. Dancers notice everything. The way your grip tightens slightly on your cup, the flicker of something unreadable in your eyes before you school your expression back into something neutral.

You keep your cool. You're unsure where this is going, but you don't back down.

Karina stretches her arms above her head, arching her back slightly against Ningning. The movement causes her top to ride up, exposing a sliver of skin at her waist. It feels too deliberate, too precise to be casual. Your mouth goes dry.

They know exactly what they're doing.

Ningning's hand settles on Karina's hip, fingers splayed possessively as she adjusts her position on her lap. You can't help but track the movement. The room suddenly feels ten degrees warmer, and you shift your position on the floor, grateful you're sitting cross-legged.

Karina takes a long sip of her Slurpee, her eyes never leaving yours over the rim of the cup. When she pulls away, she runs her tongue slowly over her cherry-stained lips, catching a drop.

Jesus Christ.

You blink rapidly, heart pounding against your ribs. Heat crawls up your neck, and you're acutely aware of every inch of your body—especially the parts now responding all too obviously to their performance.

They exchange one last look, a silent confirmation passing between them. Ningning's eyes darken slightly as she tilts her head, expression unreadable but sharp, like she's weighing something in her mind.

Then, just like that, she drops it.

"Yo, be honest, would you fuck both of us?"

Did she really just ask that?

The shift is immediate.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

Everything in the room feels different now—the air heavier, charged with something unspoken. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you process the question, trying to read their expressions for any sign they're messing with you.

You're caught between laughing it off or taking it seriously. But when you look at them, really look, you realize—

They're serious.

"Are you—" you start, voice catching slightly. "Is this for real?"

Instead of answering, Karina slides off Ningning's lap in one fluid motion, the kind of movement that reminds you why she's first in every formation. She kneels in front of you, close enough that you can smell her perfume—something expensive and subtle that's been driving you crazy all afternoon.

Her eyes never leave yours as her fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to trace along your stomach. The touch sends electricity up your spine.

"We've been thinking about this since that showcase last month," Ningning says, her voice softer than usual as she moves to join Karina. "The way you danced that night..."

They were watching me?

Karina's mouth crashes into yours with unexpected hunger. It's not just a kiss—it's a claiming. Her tongue slides against yours, hot and insistent, tasting like the cherry Slurpee and something sweeter underneath. She sucks your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. Her hands fist in your hair, pulling you closer, angling your head exactly how she wants it.

When she finally releases you, your lips are tingling, slick with her spit. You barely have time to gasp before Ningning turns your face toward her, her fingers digging into your jaw.

Her kiss is even more aggressive—open-mouthed and demanding. Her teeth graze your lip, biting down just hard enough to sting before soothing the spot with her tongue. You feel Karina's mouth on your neck now, sucking hard enough to leave marks, her hands shoving your shirt up roughly.

"Fuck," you breathe against Ningning's lips as Karina's nails rake down your chest.

Is this actually happening? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Without warning, Karina's hand finds the back of Ningning's neck, pulling her away from you. For a brief second, you think something's wrong—until they crash together right in front of you, mouths colliding in a kiss that's nothing short of filthy. Karina's tongue slides along Ningning's bottom lip before pushing inside, Ningning moaning into her mouth, hands gripping Karina's waist to pull her closer.

Your hands move on instinct, reaching out to touch them. Fingers grazing Karina's sides, palm flat against Ningning's lower back. They don't stop kissing, but Karina reaches blindly for your hand, guiding it higher along her body until you're cupping her breast through her top. Ningning breaks the kiss just long enough to suck in a breath when your other hand slides down to grip her ass.

They continue making out, but now it's a performance for you as much as it is for them. Karina bites Ningning's lower lip, tugging it between her teeth while looking directly at you. A string of saliva connects their mouths when they briefly part before diving back in, messier this time, wetter. Ningning's hand finds the back of your neck, keeping you close, letting you feel their breath, almost encouraging you to join.

When they finally pull apart, both their lips are swollen, shiny with spit. Ningning pulls you in for another kiss, the taste of Karina still on her tongue. You can taste both of them now, the flavors mingling as Ningning licks into your mouth with deliberate slowness. Karina's fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. She drags her tongue up your throat, teeth scraping along your pulse point.

Ningning's fingers twist in your hair, yanking your head back further to expose more of your neck. The sharp pull sends a jolt straight to your groin. She works her way down the opposite side from Karina, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that make your skin burn. You're trapped between them, their bodies pressing against you from both sides.

The sensation of their mouths—one on your neck, one on your collarbone, then trading places with practiced coordination—is overwhelming. Karina sucks your earlobe between her teeth while Ningning's tongue traces the hollow at the base of your throat.

Then they're kissing each other over your shoulder again, but it's nothing like the controlled display from earlier. This is raw, messy, desperate. Karina moans into Ningning's mouth, their tongues visibly sliding against each other. Ningning's hand is still in your hair, Karina's palm flat against your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat. You watch, transfixed, as Karina's teeth catch Ningning's bottom lip, as Ningning's fingers tighten in Karina's platinum hair.

"Get the fuck up," Karina breathes when they finally pull apart, her lips swollen, a flush spreading across her chest. She grabs the front of your shirt, hauling you to your feet.

Ningning's already pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. Her hands immediately explore your torso, fingers tracing the definition in your abs, your chest, your shoulders. Karina drops to her knees, working on your jeans, her knuckles deliberately dragging against your hardness through the denim.

"Goddamn," Ningning whispers, lips against your ear as her hands slide around to grip your ass. "Been wondering what you were hiding under those practice clothes."

"Sit," Karina commands, pushing you backwards until you hit the edge of the bed and drop down.

They stand before you, and for the first time, you get a moment to just... look. To really take them in.

Karina unzips her long-sleeve crop top with deliberate slowness, revealing an expanse of smooth skin inch by inch. Her collarbones cast delicate shadows, her shoulders slim but toned from years of dance. When the top finally falls away, the black lace of her bra is a stark contrast against her pale skin, barely containing her full chest. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her sweatpants, pushing them down her hips in one fluid motion, stepping out of them gracefully, her curves unmistakable even in the fading afternoon light.

Ningning watches your reaction to Karina, a smirk playing on her lips before she pulls her own shirt over her head. Her body is different—more delicate frame with gentle curves, her light blue bra a perfect complement to her fair skin. She stretches her arms overhead, an unnecessary movement that's purely for your benefit, showing off her slender waist and the subtle definition in her stomach. Her sweatpants come off next, revealing slim legs that somehow look even longer than they are.

They stand there for a moment, letting you drink them in. Karina in black lace, Ningning in light blue cotton that somehow looks just as sexy. Their dancer's bodies—Karina's fuller curves and Ningning's delicate frame—on full display.

Holy fucking shit. This cannot be real.

"Like what you see?" Ningning asks, head tilted, eyes dark with want.

Words fail you entirely. You just nod, mouth dry.

They move toward you in perfect tandem, the bed dipping as they climb on either side of you. The heat of their bodies is scorching against your skin. Karina's mouth finds your chest first, her tongue tracing a wet path from your collarbone down to your nipple. She bites down gently, watching your reaction through hooded eyes. Ningning works on the other side, her lips softer but no less insistent, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder.

Their hands explore every inch of you—Karina's nails scraping down your abs, Ningning's fingers tracing the V-line of your hips. You feel Karina's teeth against your ribs, leaving marks that will be visible tomorrow at practice. Ningning's tongue darts out to taste the salt on your skin, her hands gripping your biceps, feeling the muscles tense under her touch.

They work their way down your body with agonizing slowness. Karina's mouth blazing a trail along your stomach while Ningning's lips press against each vertebra of your spine. The dual sensation of their tongues—one hot against your abs, the other tracing the dimples at the small of your back—has you practically panting.

"Fuck, he tastes good," Karina murmurs against your skin, her words vibrating through you.

"Let me," Ningning replies, and suddenly they're trading places, Karina's weight shifting behind you while Ningning moves to kneel between your legs. She presses her mouth to your stomach, tongue dipping into your navel, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans.

Karina's breath is hot against the back of your neck, her full breasts pressed against your back, nipples hard even through the barrier of her bra. "You like that?" she whispers, her hands sliding around to your chest, fingers pinching your nipples just enough to make you hiss.

Ningning looks up at you from under her lashes, a wicked smile on her lips as she moves lower, her mouth now hovering just above the visible bulge in your jeans.

Karina slides around to your side, impatient. "Let's see what you're working with," she breathes, hunger evident in her voice.

Karina's mouth finds yours again, swallowing your groans as she continues to grind against you. Ningning turns your head, breaking the kiss so she can claim your mouth instead. You feel Karina's lips trail down your neck, your chest, moving lower with clear intent.

Their hands work at your jeans in tandem, Ningning popping the button open while Karina drags the zipper down with agonizing slowness. Karina's mouth finds yours again, kissing you deeply as Ningning tugs your jeans down your thighs, taking your boxers with them. She pulls them completely off your legs, tossing them somewhere behind her, leaving you fully exposed as your cock springs free, harder than you can ever remember being, already leaking at the tip.

"Oh my god!," Karina breathes, breaking the kiss to look down, genuine surprise in her voice.

Ningning crawls back up, pushing Karina aside to get a better view. "Let me see," she demands, her eyes widening as she takes you in. "Goddamn."

"Fuck, no wonder Yujin kept quiet about this," Karina says, wrapping her hand around you, testing your girth with her fingers barely meeting around your shaft. "Selfish bitch kept this all to herself."

"I can't believe our first threesome is with a dick this good," Ningning murmurs, her eyes fixed on Karina's hand stroking you slowly. "Wish I'd known what you were hiding under those practice sweats."

Karina nods in agreement, her thumb collecting the bead of precum from your tip and smearing it down your length. "Goddamn, we picked the right guy to skip with today."

Their reactions send a surge of confidence through you. The power dynamic shifts—their impressed expressions giving you an unexpected edge in whatever game you've all decided to play.

Maybe I can handle these two after all.

Karina recovers first, her confidence returning as she slides back onto your lap, this time with just her underwear separating you from her heat. She takes your hands, guiding them deliberately to her body—one to her breast, the other to her hip—while leaning in to kiss you deeply. Her tongue slides against yours, claiming your mouth as she grinds down against your exposed cock, the thin fabric of her panties already soaked through.

"Touch me," she commands against your lips, and you don't need to be told twice. Your fingers knead her full breast, feeling the hardened nipple through the lace as your other hand grips her hip, guiding her movements against you. The wet patch of her panties drags against your length, the friction making you both groan.

"Fuck, your tits feel even better than they look," you murmur against her mouth, gaining confidence as you squeeze harder, making her gasp.

Ningning circles behind you, her knees bracketing yours on the bed. Her hands slide over your shoulders, down your chest, her lips finding your ear. "She thinks she's in charge," she whispers, her teeth grazing your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine, "but we both know better, don't we?" Her fingers pinch your nipples, the sharp pain making your cock twitch against Karina.

You're sandwiched between them—Karina's weight on your lap, her body rolling against yours in a perfect rhythm, the lace of her bra scraping against your chest as she moves, and Ningning pressed against your back, her breasts soft against your shoulder blades, her breath hot on your neck. Karina's mouth leaves yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, sucking hard enough to mark you, while Ningning's hands roam lower, one sliding between you and Karina to wrap around your cock.

"Fuck," you hiss as her cold fingers encircle you, giving a slow, tight stroke that has your hips bucking involuntarily, pushing you deeper into her grip and harder against Karina's core.

Karina moans at the increased pressure, her head falling back, platinum hair cascading down her back as she rocks harder against you. The movement pushes your cock along her slit through the thin fabric, the head catching on her clit with each stroke.

"I knew you'd feel this good," Karina breathes, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure as she watches your face, her lipstick smudged, her cheeks flushed. She takes your hand from her hip, guiding it between her legs, pressing your fingers against the soaked lace. "Feel what you're doing to me."

Your fingers press against her through the fabric, feeling the slick heat there. You can feel how swollen she is, how wet, even through the barrier. You rub your thumb in slow circles, watching her face contort with pleasure.

"Goddamn," you breathe, feeling her wetness seep through the lace onto your fingers. "You're fucking soaked."

"Can you blame me?" she says, grinding harder against your hand, her movements becoming less coordinated as pleasure builds. "Who knew you were hiding all this..." She gasps as your thumb presses harder, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

Ningning's hand continues to stroke you, her grip tightening just beneath the head on each upstroke, twisting slightly in a way that has your thighs tensing. Her teeth find the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to make you groan. "Don't forget about me," she whispers, her other hand reaching around to pull Karina's face toward her.

They kiss over your shoulder, messy and aggressive, all tongues and teeth, while their hands continue to work you both. You watch, entranced, as Karina moans into Ningning's mouth, her hips still moving against your hand, Ningning's fingers still wrapped tight around your cock.

The image of them kissing while touching you, while grinding against you, is almost enough to push you over the edge right there. You feel the familiar tightening, the building pressure. Ningning must sense it because she squeezes the base of your cock, staving off your orgasm.

"Not yet," she breathes against Karina's lips. "I want more than just my hand on him."

Karina pulls back from the kiss, lips swollen and wet. "Greedy bitch," she says, but there's no real heat behind it, just desire. She grinds against you one more time, the friction delicious but not enough, before lifting herself off your lap.

Before you can process what's happening, Karina drops to her knees between your legs, shoving them apart roughly. Her nails dig into your thighs as she positions herself, looking up at you through her lashes, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

"Hold on," she says, sitting back on her heels. She reaches behind her head, gathering her platinum hair in her hands. The movement lifts her chest, her arms raised, exposing the soft skin of her armpits and stretching the fabric of her bra against her breasts. She works quickly, twisting her hair into a messy bun at the top of her head.

The sight of her—arms raised, back arched slightly, body on display—makes your cock twitch with anticipation. She catches your reaction and smirks, knowing exactly what she's doing.

"Fuck, I need to taste it," she murmurs, her breath hot against your length. She runs her tongue from the base to the tip in one long, slow stroke, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When she reaches the head, she pulls back slightly, letting a string of saliva fall from her lips onto your cock. She works it in with her hand, coating you before wrapping her lips around the tip, sucking hard enough to hollow her cheeks.

Ningning watches intently from beside you, her hand absently stroking your thigh. As Karina works you deeper into her mouth, Ningning reaches behind her own back, unclasping her light blue bra. She slides the straps down her arms slowly, revealing her small, perfect breasts, the nipples already hard.

Your hand instinctively reaches for her, palm cupping the soft weight, thumb brushing over the hardened peak. She sighs at your touch, leaning into your hand as she watches Karina suck you.

The sight alone is almost enough to make you cum—Karina, the girl half the guys at school would kill to talk to, on her knees with your cock in her mouth, her platinum hair pulled up to give you a perfect view, while your hand explores Ningning's bare breast.

Karina takes you inch by inch, her tongue pressed flat against the underside, creating delicious pressure as she sucks. Her hand works what doesn't fit, twisting in tandem with her mouth's movements, spit already making her fingers glide smoothly along your shaft. You feel the vibration of her moan around you as she takes you deeper, the hot, wet pressure of her mouth making your toes curl.

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips still brushing against your tip. "Fuck, you taste so good," she breathes, her eyes heavy-lidded with genuine pleasure. "Better than I thought you would."

She descends again, moaning around your length in a way that tells you she's enjoying this just as much as you are. The vibrations from her throat send shockwaves of pleasure through your cock.

"Jesus Christ," you breathe, your free hand instinctively going to Karina's hair, tangling in the loose strands that frame her face. She moans around you as you tug slightly, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure up your spine.

Just as you're settling into the sensation, she's yanked backward, Ningning's hand fisted in her hair, pulling hard enough to make Karina yelp.

"My turn," Ningning says, her voice sharper than before, edged with hunger. She moves between your legs, but first reaches behind Karina, unhooking her bra with practiced ease. "Take this off. I want to see you."

Karina complies, shrugging the black lace from her shoulders, her full breasts bouncing slightly as they're freed. Your mouth goes dry at the sight—both of them now topless, their dancer's bodies on full display.

Ningning sits back momentarily, mimicking Karina's earlier motion as she gathers her hair, arms raised above her head, body stretched long and lean. The position emphasizes the delicate curve of her waist, the subtle definition of her stomach. She secures her hair in a high ponytail, a few strands falling to frame her face.

"Much better," she says, settling between your legs. Rather than starting slow, she spits directly onto your cock, the warm saliva dripping down your length, trickling over your balls in a sensation that makes you shiver. She spreads it with both hands, stroking you a few times before wrapping her lips around you.

The first slide of her mouth around you is electric—different from Karina's technique, more aggressive from the start. She takes you deep immediately, your tip hitting the back of her throat, the muscles there contracting around you in a rippling sensation that makes your vision blur momentarily. You feel every millimeter of her throat closing around your head, squeezing in a way that's almost too intense.

She pulls back, gasping for air, but her eyes are bright with excitement. "Fuck, you're so big," she breathes, stroking you with her hand. "Feel so fucking good stretching my throat." She dives back down with enthusiasm, humming in satisfaction as she takes you deep again, the vibrations traveling through your entire length.

Karina moves to your side, pressing her now bare chest against your arm. Your hand immediately finds her breast, significantly fuller than Ningning's, the nipple stiff against your palm. You squeeze gently, drawing a soft moan from her as she watches Ningning take you deep.

The dual sensation is overwhelming—Ningning's hot mouth around your cock, taking you deeper than Karina had, her throat constricting rhythmically around your tip with each swallow, while your hands explore Karina's body, feeling the softness of her skin, the firmness of her breast in your palm.

This is not real life. This cannot be real life.

The sight of Ningning on her knees, lips stretched wide around your cock, eyes watering slightly as she takes you to the back of her throat, is almost too much. Her technique is different from Karina's—less teasing, more focused on depth and suction, her hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. Each time she pulls back, you feel the cool air against your saliva-slick skin for just a moment before she descends again, taking you impossibly deep.

Karina presses closer, guiding your hand to her breast again while she watches Ningning work. Your fingers pinch her nipple lightly, drawing a soft gasp from her that turns into a smile. She leans in to kiss your neck, her teeth grazing your pulse point as Ningning continues to suck you, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room.

"You're doing it wrong," Karina says after a minute, tugging Ningning's hair hard enough to make her release you with a wet pop, a thick string of saliva still connecting her lips to your glistening cock. She moves between your legs, gently pushing Ningning to the side.

Ningning doesn't move far. Instead, she shifts to your other side, pressing her small, firm breasts against your arm, guiding your hand to touch her as Karina had done. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's fuller, heavier breasts against Ningning's smaller, perkier ones, both equally perfect in different ways.

Your hands explore their bodies as they continue taking turns with your cock—feeling the taut muscles of their dancer's bodies, the softness of their breasts, the hardness of their nipples against your palms. Karina arches into your touch, more vocal in her enjoyment, while Ningning responds with subtle shifts of her body, pressing herself harder against your hand.

Karina pushes Ningning aside, but instead of taking you directly into her mouth, she gathers saliva and lets it fall in a long, obscene strand onto your cock. The warm wetness slides down your shaft, pooling at the base and dripping onto your balls, the sensation making your cock twitch visibly. She spreads it with both hands, one working the shaft while the other focuses on the head, applying more pressure on the upstroke. Her technique is more deliberate—twisting motions, varying pressure, her thumb occasionally swiping over the sensitive spot just beneath the head.

"Watch and learn," she tells Ningning before taking just the tip between her lips, sucking firmly while her hands continue their assault, working you with practiced precision. Each stroke is wetter than the last, her spit making obscene squelching sounds as she pumps you. You feel the suction of her mouth intensifying as she hollows her cheeks, the pressure building at the base of your spine.

She releases you with a gasp, her eyes glazed with arousal. "So fucking good," she moans, jerking you faster. "Love how you throb in my mouth." She's not performing anymore—the pleasure in her voice is raw and genuine as she takes you in again, moaning around your length like she's tasting something delicious.

Not to be outdone, Ningning moves closer. "Let me show you how it's really done," she says, nudging Karina to share. She gathers a mouthful of saliva and lets it drip directly onto your cock where Karina's hands are still working, the added wetness making the glide even smoother. The warm spit runs down to your balls, the tickling sensation making your thighs tense.

Then she ducks lower, her mouth finding your balls. She takes one gently between her lips, sucking lightly while Karina continues working the shaft, their combined efforts making your head spin. The contrast between Karina's firm strokes and Ningning's gentle suction creates a dual sensation that has you groaning, your hands tangling in the sheets.

Ningning hums against your sensitive skin, the vibration traveling up your shaft. "Mmm, I can feel you getting closer," she purrs, her breath hot against your balls. "Getting harder for us." She sucks again, moaning like she's savoring the taste and feel of you, her enthusiasm unmistakable.

Karina watches Ningning with growing arousal, her own breathing heavy. "He tastes so fucking good," she tells Ningning, almost reverently. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Fuck," you groan, hips lifting involuntarily, the muscles in your stomach clenching. "This really your guys' first threesome? There's no fucking way you're both this perfect at this."

They exchange a look, something passing between them that you can't quite read. Then, without warning, they both move at once. Karina releases your cock from her grip, allowing Ningning to take you deep into her throat in one smooth motion, her nose pressing against your stomach as she swallows around you. The tight squeeze of her throat has you seeing stars, the rhythmic contractions milking your length as she holds herself there, her eyes watering from the effort. You hear a muffled moan vibrating around your cock as she takes you, a sound of pure pleasure that makes your hips buck involuntarily.

The sensation is indescribable—hot, wet pressure surrounding every inch of you, her throat muscles rippling involuntarily around your head, her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft. You feel yourself hit the back of her throat and then push beyond, into the tighter passage that spasms around you.

When she pulls back for air, a thick strand of spit connects her lips to your cock. Before it can break, Karina leans forward, connecting her mouth to Ningning's through the spit strand, the two of them sharing a messy kiss with your cock between them. Their tongues visibly slide against each other, spit passing between their mouths before both turn their attention back to your cock.

"Holy shit," you breathe, unable to look away as they kiss, their tongues visibly sliding against each other, spit passing between their mouths before both turn their attention back to your cock.

Now they work in tandem, taking turns—Karina sucking the head while Ningning strokes the shaft with spit-slicked hands, then switching, Ningning taking you deep while Karina's hands massage your balls. The constant switching, the different pressures and sensations, the visual of them trading your cock between their mouths, is mind-bending.

Karina pulls off with a gasp, a line of spit connecting her bottom lip to your cock. Ningning immediately takes her place, but not before Karina spits directly onto your length, adding to the mess. Ningning works the extra wetness in with her hand before taking you deep again, her eyes watering as she pushes past her gag reflex.

The competition escalates further. Karina yanks Ningning off by her hair, replacing her mouth with her own. She takes you as deep as she can, gagging slightly but pushing through it, determined to outdo Ningning. When she comes up for air, Ningning is ready with another gob of spit, this time letting it fall into Karina's open mouth. Karina takes it, letting it mix with her own saliva before dripping it all onto your cock.

"Fuck," you groan, watching the exchange with wide eyes. The sight of Karina's mouth open, receiving Ningning's spit, then the combined wetness falling onto your cock, is filthier than anything you've ever seen.

They're getting progressively sloppier, wetter, messier with each passing minute. Ningning holds your cock at the base, pointing it toward Karina's waiting mouth, but before Karina can take you in, Ningning spits onto the head. Karina smiles, working the wetness in before adding her own spit, creating a growing puddle of saliva that drips down onto your balls.

The visual is obscene—both of their faces are wet with spit, their lipstick long gone, hair messed up from where you've grabbed it, eyes dark with desire as they work you between them. Your cock is coated in a sheen of their combined saliva, glistening in the fading light of Ningning's room.

The wetness is incredible—warm spit running down your shaft, pooling at the base, dripping onto your balls and beyond. Each stroke of their hands spreads it further, creating a slick, frictionless glide that has your toes curling. The sounds are just as filthy—wet suction, obscene slurping, the squelch of saliva between their fingers as they stroke you.

Then they change tactics. Instead of taking turns, they position themselves on either side of your cock. Karina takes the head into her mouth while Ningning works the shaft with her tongue, both of them moving in a synchronized rhythm that has your thighs tensing. You feel the different textures—Karina's soft lips sealed around your tip, the suction of her mouth pulling at you, while Ningning's tongue traces patterns along your shaft, occasionally dipping lower to tease your balls.

When they switch, it's seamless—Ningning taking the head while Karina's tongue traces patterns along the underside. Their eyes meet over your cock, some unspoken competition still driving them, but now they're working together to destroy you completely.

"He tastes so fucking good when he's about to cum," Karina whispers to Ningning, her voice raspy with desire. "Can you taste it?"

Ningning nods, her lips never leaving your skin. "Mmm, getting saltier," she agrees, moaning as she takes you into her mouth again. She pulls off with a wet pop. "Love how he twitches on my tongue."

Their obvious enjoyment, the way they're talking about you like you're some delicious treat they can't get enough of, pushes you even closer to the edge.

The most obscene moment comes when they both press their open mouths to either side of your shaft, essentially making out with each other with your cock between their lips. Their tongues slide against your skin and occasionally touch each other, sharing spit as they work you from base to tip. The sensation of both their tongues, both their mouths, both their breaths against your most sensitive skin has your head spinning.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groan, your hands fisting in the sheets, hips lifting involuntarily. "I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," Karina says, pulling back, her hand squeezing the base of your cock hard enough to stave off your orgasm. Her lips are swollen, her chin and chest slick with spit and precum. "We're just getting started with you."

Ningning's eyes are dark with want as she looks up at you, her mouth and chin equally wet, a strand of saliva still connecting her bottom lip to the side of your cock. "We haven't even decided who goes first," she says, her voice raspy from taking you so deep.

Karina wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze predatory. "And I'm not done showing off what I can do with my mouth."

Is this actually my life right now? How the fuck did I end up here?

The tension between your need to cum and their determination to edge you builds to a breaking point. Just as you think you can't take anymore, Ningning makes a decisive move, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you backward onto the bed.

"My turn to feel good," she announces, climbing up your body with predatory grace. Her small, perfect breasts hang above you as she straddles your chest, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your torso. "Scoot back," she commands, waiting for you to shift until your head is properly on the bed.

Without hesitation, she moves forward, positioning herself directly over your face. Through the thin fabric of her panties, you can see how wet she is, a dark patch spreading across the cotton. The scent of her arousal hits you—sweet and musky and intoxicating.

"Show me what you did to Yujin," she demands, lowering herself until her covered core is just inches from your mouth.

You reach up, hooking your fingers into the sides of her panties, pulling them to the side to expose her completely. The sight of her pussy makes your mouth water—she's got a neat landing strip of dark hair leading down to otherwise perfectly bare lips. The contrast of the carefully maintained strip against her pale skin speaks to her personality—controlled yet still wild underneath. Her folds are delicate, pink and glistening with arousal, already swollen and parted slightly, revealing the deeper pink within. She's absolutely soaked, her wetness visible from her entrance all the way up to her small, perfect clit that peeks out from beneath its hood.

"Fuck, you're pretty," you murmur before lifting your head to run your tongue through her slit in one long, firm stroke, tasting her fully for the first time.

"Shit," she gasps, her thighs trembling slightly as she grips the headboard for support.

You continue exploring her with your tongue, learning what makes her breath hitch and her thighs quiver. You trace around her entrance, gathering her wetness before moving up to circle her clit, alternating pressure and speed to keep her guessing.

Meanwhile, Karina hasn't forgotten about your cock. You feel her mouth envelop you again, picking up where they left off, but with a new urgency. She takes you impossibly deep, her throat constricting around your head as her hands massage your balls.

"Don't forget about me down here," she whines when she comes up for air, her hand replacing her mouth as she strokes you firmly. "Just because she's getting your tongue doesn't mean I'm done with your cock."

The dual sensation—Ningning's wetness on your tongue, Karina's mouth and hand working your length—creates a sensory overload that makes your head spin. You grip Ningning's thighs, pulling her more firmly against your face, your tongue diving deeper into her heat.

"Fuck, your tongue is fucking insane," Ningning moans, her hips beginning to roll against your mouth with more purpose. "The way you—shit—the way you flick it right there."

You focus your attention on her clit, alternating between fast flutters and firm circular motions, watching her reactions to learn exactly what drives her wild. Her thighs tense and tremble around your head, her breathing becoming more labored.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she chants, grinding herself shamelessly against your face now. "Your fucking tongue, holy shit—don't stop, please don't stop."

From below, you hear and feel Karina's response—the wet suction of her mouth intensifies, her pace increasing to match your efforts on Ningning. The competition continues, each trying to divert your attention and pleasure to themselves.

"He's already shaking," Karina observes after pulling off your cock with a wet pop, her hand continuing to stroke you firmly. "His cock gets harder every time you moan, Ning."

Ningning looks down between her legs at you, then back over her shoulder at Karina. Without breaking the rhythm of her hips against your mouth, she reaches back with one hand. Karina meets her halfway, their fingers intertwining in a brief moment of unity despite their ongoing competition.

"Fuck, I think I could die on his tongue," Ningning confesses, her voice thick with pleasure but not quite at the breaking point. "No wonder Yujin kept coming back."

You feel a surge of pride at her words, doubling your efforts, flattening your tongue to provide a broad surface for her to grind against while occasionally dipping into her entrance. Her taste is addictive—tangy and sweet with a hint of something uniquely her. Your chin and lips are completely coated in her arousal now, the obscene wetness making filthy sounds with each movement.

As amazing as it feels having Ningning on your face, you're acutely aware of Karina working diligently between your legs, her mouth and hands tag-teaming your cock with relentless precision. Each time you feel yourself getting close, she backs off just enough, squeezing the base or slowing her rhythm to keep you right on the edge.

"You taste so fucking good," you murmur against Ningning's pussy, the vibration of your words making her gasp. "Could eat you for hours."

"Please," she whimpers, her body trembling with the effort of restraining her orgasm. She's close—you can feel it in the way her thighs tense, see it in the flush spreading across her chest, hear it in the pitch of her moans.

But before she can tip over the edge, you pull back slightly, easing the pressure on her clit, focusing instead on long, slow strokes through her folds. Her frustrated groan makes you smile against her wet flesh.

"Evil," she hisses, recognizing what you're doing—giving her just enough to keep her on the edge but not enough to push her over.

Two can play at that game.

You feel a newfound confidence swelling within you. Making Ningning tremble above you while Karina worships your cock below has awakened something primal and commanding. You're done being the passive recipient of their attention.

You grip Ningning's hips firmly, lifting her off your face despite her whine of protest. "Move," you tell her, your voice rougher than usual. "I want to try something else."

Ningning slides off you reluctantly, her chest heaving, lips swollen from biting them to hold back her moans. Karina looks up from between your legs, her chin wet with spit, eyes questioning.

"Get on your hands and knees," you tell Karina, sitting up and pointing to the middle of the bed. "Facing Ningning."

Karina's eyebrows raise, a slight smirk playing on her lips, but she complies, crawling into position on all fours across the bed. Her platinum hair falls around her face as she looks up at Ningning, who's watching this shift in dynamic with undisguised interest, still breathing heavily from her near-orgasm.

You position yourself behind Karina, taking a moment to appreciate the view—the elegant curve of her spine, the swell of her ass, the way her hair cascades down her back. You run your hands over her skin, feeling the goosebumps that rise in the wake of your touch.

With deliberate slowness, you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her thighs. The reveal is exquisite—unlike Ningning's landing strip, Karina is completely bare, her pussy smooth and flawlessly waxed. Her lips are fuller than Ningning's, her pink folds more pronounced, glistening with an abundance of arousal that's already begun dripping down her inner thighs. She's swollen with need, her entrance visibly pulsing as you watch.

"Fuck, look at you," you breathe, running a finger through her slick folds, collecting her wetness. She's so wet it makes an obscene sound, a lewd squelch that fills the room. "Soaked just from sucking my cock."

Karina looks back at you over her shoulder, eyes dark with want. "What are you waiting for?" she challenges, but the slight tremble in her voice betrays her desperation.

You grip your cock, still slick with their combined spit, and drag it through her folds, coating yourself in her wetness. The head catches on her clit, making her gasp and arch her back further.

"Please," she whispers, and the vulnerability in that single word hits you hard.

"Look at Ningning," you command, waiting until she turns her head forward.

Ningning has positioned herself cross-legged in front of Karina, close enough to touch, her eyes darting between Karina's face and your cock poised at her entrance.

This is it. This moment. After all the teasing, all the build-up, you're finally about to be inside one of them. The significance isn't lost on you—or them, judging by the anticipation crackling in the air.

You position yourself at her entrance, gripping her hips firmly with both hands, and then thrust forward in one smooth, relentless motion, burying yourself to the hilt inside her.

"Fucking hell!" Karina cries out, her arms nearly buckling from the sudden intrusion. She's impossibly tight around you, hot and wet and perfect. Her inner walls grip you like a vise, pulsing around your length in a way that nearly makes you cum on the spot.

"Goddamn," you hiss through clenched teeth, fighting for control. "So fucking tight."

You hold still for a moment, both to let her adjust and to regain your composure. The sensation is overwhelming—better than anything you could have imagined. Better than Yujin, better than anyone you've been with before.

Slowly, you pull back until just the tip remains inside, watching your length emerge coated in her arousal, before driving back in with deliberate force. She makes a choked sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets.

"Eat her out," you command Karina, nodding toward Ningning. "Show her what that pretty mouth can do."

Ningning's eyes widen at your directive, but she doesn't hesitate. She scoots closer, positioning herself so her pussy is directly in front of Karina's face. Karina leans forward eagerly despite the distraction of your cock still pumping into her, her tongue darting out to taste Ningning.

You establish a rhythm, your hips meeting Karina's ass with increasingly forceful thrusts. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mixing with Karina's muffled moans against Ningning's pussy and Ningning's sharper gasps.

"That's it," you encourage, your hand sliding up Karina's spine before tangling in her platinum hair, pulling just enough to arch her back further. "Make her feel good while I fuck you."

The visual is pornographic—Karina on all fours, her face buried between Ningning's thighs, her ass raised high as you pound into her from behind. Your cock glistens with her arousal each time you pull back, her wetness making the glide effortless despite how tightly she grips you.

"Fuck, she's good with her tongue too," Ningning moans, her hand coming down to grip Karina's hair, holding her firmly in place. "Not as good as you, but still—ah!—still fucking amazing."

The praise spurs Karina on, making her work harder to prove herself. You can feel her determination in the way she pushes back against your thrusts, meeting you halfway, taking you impossibly deeper.

You bring your hand down on her ass in a sharp slap, watching the flesh jiggle and redden under your palm. Karina jerks forward with a muffled cry, her inner walls clenching around your cock in response.

"You like that?" you ask, doing it again, harder this time.

Her answering moan, vibrating against Ningning's core, is all the confirmation you need. You develop a rhythm—thrust, slap, thrust, slap—each impact making her tighten around you, each moan making Ningning gasp.

"Fuck, don't stop," Ningning pants, her hips rolling against Karina's face with increasing urgency. "She gets better every time you spank her—fuck!—it's like she's trying to earn it."

You can tell they're both getting close, teetering on the edge of release. Karina's pussy is gripping you with almost painful intensity, fluttering with each thrust in a way that signals her approaching orgasm. Ningning's thighs are trembling, her chest flushed, her breathing ragged as she grinds against Karina's eager mouth.

But you're not ready for this to end. Not yet.

You pull out of Karina suddenly, making her whine against Ningning's pussy. At the same time, you reach forward to pull her away from Ningning, denying them both their release.

"Not yet," you tell them, your voice rough with desire but commanding in a way that surprises even you. "I'm not done with either of you."

They both look at you with identical expressions of frustration and arousal—lips swollen, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed. Karina's mouth and chin glisten with Ningning's arousal, while Ningning's thighs are visibly trembling from how close she was.

"Don't forget about me," Ningning says, her eyes fixed on your cock, still hard and slick with Karina's juices. "I want to feel that too."

"You had his mouth," Karina argues, turning to glare at her friend despite her breathlessness. "My turn to have something."

"Your pussy isn't the only one that needs attention," Ningning shoots back, crawling closer to you. "He obviously likes how I taste better anyway."

"Bullshit," Karina scoffs, reaching for your cock possessively. "He was practically shaking inside me. Weren't you?" She looks up at you, seeking confirmation.

The competition between them reignites, both vying for your attention, both desperate to be the one who makes you lose control first. But you've found your footing in this dynamic now, no longer overwhelmed by their beauty or intimidated by their confidence.

You know exactly what you want to do next.

After pounding into Karina with increasingly forceful thrusts, your control begins to waver. The wet heat of her pussy, the sight of her platinum hair bouncing with each impact, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting—it's all becoming too much.

"Fuck," you growl, suddenly pulling out completely with a lewd, wet sound. Your cock springs free, glistening with her arousal, bobbing heavily in the air between you. Karina whimpers at the loss, looking back at you over her shoulder with confusion and frustration in her eyes.

You take a deep breath, fighting for composure, and shift backward until you're settled against the headboard. Your cock stands at full attention, slick with Karina's arousal, veins prominent against the flushed skin, pulsing visibly with each heartbeat.

"Get over here," you command, voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Both of you."

The frustration on both their faces at being denied release only heightens your newfound confidence. Their flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and desperate eyes tell you everything you need to know—they're as close to the edge as you are.

"Ningning," you command, your voice leaving no room for argument. "Come ride me. Karina, you're on ball duty."

Their eyes widen at your sudden assertiveness, but neither hesitates. Ningning practically scrambles toward you, her small breasts bouncing with the movement, eyes dark with hunger. She straddles your thighs, positioning herself above your cock, while Karina crawls between your spread legs, her platinum hair falling around her face as she looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal.

Holy shit, who am I right now? When did I start giving orders to the two baddest girls at school?

You take a moment to truly look at Ningning hovering above you—her skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, making her body gleam in the scattered light. Droplets trail down between her breasts and along the defined lines of her dancer's abdomen. Her dark hair, once perfectly styled, now falls in messy strands around her face where it's escaped her ponytail. The contrast of her disheveled appearance against her usually perfect composure makes your cock throb with anticipation.

You reach up to trace the elegant curve of her collarbone, your finger dipping into the hollow at the base of her throat where sweat has pooled. Impulsively, you lean forward to lick the salt from her skin, dragging your tongue along the defined ridge before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. She gasps at the sensation, her hands gripping your shoulders for balance.

"You taste fucking incredible," you murmur against her skin, your lips moving down to capture a bead of sweat trickling between her breasts. "Even your sweat is sweet."

Her head falls back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat as you continue to explore her body with your mouth. Your hands roam freely, cupping her small, firm breasts, feeling the weight of them in your palms, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. They're incredibly responsive, stiffening further at your touch, drawing a whimper from her lips.

"Please," she whispers, her voice so different from her usual confident tone. "Need to feel you inside me now."

Ningning hovers above you, her entrance just brushing against your tip, teasing you both. You've had enough teasing. Your hands grip her narrow waist, fingertips digging into her soft skin as you pull her down onto your length in one forceful motion.

"Oh fuck!" she cries out, her body going rigid as you fill her completely. She's even tighter than Karina, her walls gripping you like a vise, her heat enveloping you in a way that makes your vision blur momentarily.

Her pussy feels different from Karina's—tighter, with more texture, gripping you in rhythmic pulses that suggest years of dance have strengthened muscles you're now benefiting from. Every tiny movement sends lightning through your nerve endings.

This cannot be real life. There's no way I'm inside Ningning right now with Karina watching. No fucking way.

You feel Karina's presence below, her breath hot against your thighs as she watches Ningning take you. The anticipation of her mouth on you while you're buried inside Ningning makes your cock swell even harder.

"Move," you growl, your hands still gripping Ningning's waist, guiding her into a rhythm. She begins to ride you, her hips rolling with a natural fluidity that showcases her dancer's body. Unlike Karina's more controlled movements, Ningning rides you with complete abandon, her head thrown back, small breasts bouncing with each drop of her hips.

Your hands slide from her waist to her ass, squeezing the firm globes, feeling the muscles flex and contract as she moves. Her skin is impossibly soft despite the toned muscle beneath. You spread her wider, your fingers digging into the supple flesh, controlling her movements even as she sets the pace.

Sweat drips down her temple, following the curve of her jaw before trailing down her neck. You lean forward to catch it with your tongue, tasting the salt of her exertion, the evidence of how hard she's working on your cock. Her hair has come further undone, dark strands sticking to her damp neck and shoulders, the ponytail now hanging by a thread.

"Fucking hell, you're deep," she gasps, her internal muscles clenching around you as she adjusts to your size. "Shit, shit, shit."

You feel Karina's mouth on your balls, her tongue lavishing attention on the sensitive skin while Ningning continues to ride you. Her lips are impossibly soft, contrasting with the occasional graze of teeth that makes your hips buck involuntarily. She sucks one into her mouth, the wet heat surrounding you from below as Ningning envelops you from above.

The dual sensation—Ningning's tight heat surrounding your cock, Karina's wet mouth on your balls—creates a pleasure so intense you have to grit your teeth to maintain control. Your hands tighten on Ningning's ass, fingers dipping between the cheeks, exploring every inch of her.

"Look at you," Karina murmurs against your skin, her breath hot and teasing. "Already about to bust for her. Your balls are so tight."

She's not wrong—your entire body is wound like a spring, tension building with each drop of Ningning's hips, each swipe of Karina's tongue. You can feel the pressure building at the base of your spine, your thighs tensing with the effort of holding back.

Her observation spurs you to reassert control. You tangle one hand in Ningning's hair, finding the loose ponytail and wrapping it around your fist before yanking her head back sharply, exposing the elegant line of her throat. The remaining hair tie snaps, releasing a cascade of dark waves that fall around her shoulders. She gasps, her pussy clenching around you in response, her rhythm faltering momentarily.

"Fuck, I love when you pull my hair," she moans, her pace increasing, taking you deeper with each drop of her hips. Her nails dig into your chest, leaving crescent-shaped marks that sting deliciously, adding tiny crescents of pain to the overwhelming pleasure.

You pull her down to crush your mouth against hers, swallowing her moans as you thrust up to meet her movements. Her lips are swollen from earlier kisses, softer now, yielding to your assault. You taste yourself on her tongue, mixed with her own unique flavor and the lingering sweetness of the Slurpee from earlier. The combination is intoxicating.

Your free hand slides up her sweat-slicked back, feeling each vertebra, each ripple of muscle beneath her skin. You trace the definition of her shoulder blades, the delicate curve of her spine, the subtle dimples at her lower back. Her body is a masterpiece of lean muscle and subtle curves, honed by years of dance but still undeniably feminine.

Karina's not content to be forgotten. She moves from your balls to nip at Ningning's thighs, leaving small red marks that make Ningning jerk and gasp above you. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin where thigh meets ass, leaving a trail of light bruises that will remind Ningning of this moment for days to come.

Then she presses her tongue flat against the place where your bodies join, tasting both of you with each of Ningning's movements. The added stimulation makes Ningning shudder, her inner walls fluttering around you. Karina's tongue slides up to tease Ningning's asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle before dipping back down to where you're connected.

"Oh god," Ningning whimpers, the added stimulation nearly pushing her over the edge. Her movements become erratic, desperate, her inner walls fluttering around your length in warning.

You can feel how close she is—her thighs trembling against yours, her breathing shallow and rapid, her pussy contracting in those telltale rhythmic pulses that signal impending orgasm. Her eyes are unfocused, lips parted, a flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck to her chest.

Not yet. I'm finally in control here, and I'm not letting it end this fast.

You're not ready to let her finish yet. With a sudden burst of strength, you lift her off you entirely, eliciting a cry of protest that cuts off when you manhandle her to the side, practically throwing her onto the mattress beside you.

Her body bounces slightly with the impact, her hair splaying across the sheets like dark ink, chest heaving with exertion and denied release. Her skin is flushed pink, nipples tight peaks begging for attention, thighs still spread with the memory of having you between them. A thin sheen of sweat makes her entire body glisten, highlighting every curve, every muscle, every dip and hollow of her dancer's physique.

"My turn with Karina," you state, your voice rough with arousal but commanding enough that neither questions you.

Karina's eyes darken with desire as she moves to take Ningning's place, but you stop her with a hand on her shoulder. Her skin is hot to the touch, slightly damp with exertion, surprisingly soft despite the toned muscle beneath. You can feel her pulse racing beneath your palm.

"Get your ass up here," you direct, indicating your face. "Wanna taste you while you ride me."

Her breath catches, pupils dilating until her eyes are nearly black, a fresh wave of arousal evident in the way she presses her thighs together momentarily. She complies immediately, positioning herself over your face, facing your feet, while reaching back to guide your cock into her waiting heat.

The position allows you full access to her pussy with your mouth while she controls the depth and pace of penetration. The view is spectacular—her round ass hovering above your face, her slick, swollen pussy lips parted and ready, the perfect curve of her spine leading up to her platinum hair cascading down her back.

As she sinks down onto your length, you grip her hips, pulling her core against your mouth simultaneously, your tongue finding her clit with unerring precision. The taste of her explodes across your tongue—tangy, sweet, with an underlying muskiness that's uniquely hers, different from Ningning's flavor but equally intoxicating.

She cries out, her body jerking at the dual penetration, her inner walls clenching around you. You feel her thighs trembling on either side of your head, her weight shifting as she struggles to maintain balance in the face of such intense stimulation.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she chants, beginning to move on your cock while grinding against your mouth.

Where Ningning rode you with wild abandon, Karina's movements are calculated, controlled—each roll of her hips designed for maximum pleasure, each contraction of her inner muscles deliberate and devastating. She knows exactly how to angle herself to take you deepest, how to twist to hit her most sensitive spots, how to clench around you to create the perfect pressure.

Your hands roam her body, one gripping her hip to guide her movements, the other sliding up her sweat-slicked torso to find her breast. It fills your palm perfectly, heavier than Ningning's, the nipple stiff against your skin. You pinch it between your fingers, rolling it, tugging slightly, feeling her inner walls contract around your cock in response.

Your tongue works her clit relentlessly, circling the swollen bud before flattening against it, applying perfect pressure as she grinds down. Her taste becomes more intense as her arousal builds, her wetness coating your chin, dripping down your neck. You trace her entrance with your tongue, feeling where your cock stretches her, the tight ring of muscle yielding to your thickness.

That's the difference between them—Ningning all passion, Karina all precision. Both fucking incredible in completely different ways.

Ningning watches for a moment, her chest heaving, before moving to participate again. She positions herself beside your head, leaning down to whisper in your ear, her voice husky with arousal. Her breath is hot against your skin, her lips brushing your earlobe with each word, sending shivers down your spine.

"She thinks she can take you better than me," she murmurs, her hand trailing down to massage your balls as Karina continues to ride you. Her fingers are cool against your heated skin, gentle yet firm as they cup and roll, occasionally dipping lower to feel where you stretch Karina open. "But I had you deeper. I felt you throbbing inside me."

Karina hears her and responds with a particularly skillful twist of her hips that makes you groan against her flesh. The movement changes the angle, taking you impossibly deeper, her inner walls rippling along your length in a way that makes your toes curl.

"He's rock hard inside me," she shoots back, looking over her shoulder at Ningning with a triumphant smirk. Her platinum hair sticks to her sweat-dampened back in places, strands darkened by moisture. "Like, literally throbbing."

Their competitive banter continues as they trade positions again, this time with Ningning straddling you in reverse, her back to your chest. The view is spectacular—the elegant line of her spine, the subtle dimples at the small of her back, the perfect curve of her ass as she positions herself over your cock once more.

She sinks down slowly this time, savoring each inch as you fill her, her head falling back against your shoulder with a gasp when you're fully seated. Her hair, now completely free from its ponytail, spills all around you, tickling your chest, your neck, your face—dark, silky strands that smell faintly of coconut shampoo and her own unique scent.

Karina kneels beside you, her mouth finding your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with her tongue. The contrast of her platinum hair against your skin is stark, beautiful, the strands sticking to your sweat-dampened chest as she moves.

You grip Ningning's hips, guiding her movements as she rides you with increasing urgency, her head falling back against your shoulder. Your hands slide up her torso, feeling the taut muscles of her stomach contract with each movement, the delicate ribs beneath her soft skin, before finding her small, perfect breasts.

They fit perfectly in your palms, the perfect handful, nipples stiff against your fingers. You pinch them lightly, rolling them between your fingers, feeling her pussy clench around you in response. Your mouth finds the side of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark that will be visible for days.

"Fuck, the way you fill me," she gasps, her hand reaching back to tangle in your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss over her shoulder. The angle is awkward but intensely erotic, her tongue sliding against yours as she continues to move on your cock.

Her body is a furnace against yours, heat radiating from every inch of her skin, her sweat mingling with yours where your chests press together. You can feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, her pulse fluttering beneath your lips when you break the kiss to suck at the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

Karina's hand slips between Ningning's legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles that make Ningning's rhythm stutter. "Let me help you," she offers, her voice innocent but her eyes calculating as she watches Ningning respond to her touch.

It's not cooperation so much as an extension of their competition—each trying to prove they can give and receive pleasure better than the other. Still, the effect is the same: Ningning moaning loudly as Karina's fingers work her clit, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your length.

They might be competing, but holy shit does it work in my favor.

You break the kiss to watch them, fascinated by the shifting dynamic. Karina leans forward to capture Ningning's mouth in a passionate kiss, swallowing her increasingly desperate moans while continuing to work her clit. Their tongues visibly slide against each other, the kiss open-mouthed and filthy, a performance as much for your benefit as for their own pleasure.

Your hands slide to Ningning's ass, spreading her cheeks, feeling where your cock disappears into her tight heat. The visual of them kissing while Ningning rides you, Karina's fingers visible between her legs, is almost enough to push you over the edge.

Sweat drips down your temple, your chest, your back—every inch of you is damp with exertion, muscles burning with the effort of maintaining control. The room smells of sex now, the sweet musk of their arousal mixed with sweat and the faint coconut of Ningning's shampoo creating an intoxicating blend that fills your lungs with each ragged breath.

"Switch," you command, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your orgasm. "Karina on my cock, Ningning on my face."

They separate reluctantly, exchanging a look that speaks volumes before repositioning themselves according to your instructions. The brief moment it takes them to adjust gives you a chance to regain some control, your breathing ragged, your cock throbbing painfully with need.

Karina sinks down onto you with a satisfied sigh, her pussy still incredibly tight despite how wet she is. Ningning straddles your face, her thighs bracketing your head, her scent intoxicating as you pull her down onto your waiting tongue.

What happens next is the most seamless teamwork you've seen from them so far. Karina leans forward to kiss Ningning deeply, their breasts pressing together as they move in synchronized rhythm—Karina riding your cock with deliberate precision, Ningning grinding against your tongue with increasing desperation.

Their hands explore each other's bodies, pinching nipples, tangling in hair, tracing curves with obvious familiarity. It's clear this isn't the first time they've touched each other this way, but the addition of you between them brings a new intensity to their interactions.

They work together now, their earlier competition forgotten in favor of a united goal: pushing you past the point of control. Karina's inner muscles contract around you in waves, milking your length with expert precision. Ningning grinds against your tongue with shameless abandon, her wetness coating your chin, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.

"Fuck, he's gonna cum," Karina observes, feeling your cock swell and pulse inside her. "I can feel it."

The sensation is overwhelming—Karina's pussy gripping your cock like a vise, her inner walls rippling along your length with practiced control, while Ningning floods your mouth with her arousal, her taste growing stronger as she gets closer to her own release. You feel the familiar tightening at the base of your spine, the tension building in your balls, the telltale throb of impending orgasm.

Ningning looks down at you between her legs, her eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," she says, both to you and Karina. "We're not done with him."

They exchange another look, some silent communication passing between them, before they both lift off you simultaneously. The sudden loss of stimulation makes you groan in frustration, your cock twitching in the cool air, your mouth still chasing Ningning's retreating heat.

"What the fuck," you hiss, your voice rough with need.

Are they seriously edging me right now? After I was finally about to—

They smile at your frustration, identical expressions of satisfied mischief on their flushed faces. The power dynamic shifts again as they move to position themselves on either side of you, their hands trailing teasingly across your sweat-slicked skin.

Your body is hypersensitive now, every touch amplified tenfold. Karina's fingers along your ribs feel like fire, Ningning's breath against your neck like a physical caress. Your cock stands proudly between you, harder than it's ever been, the head swollen and purple, veins prominent against the shaft, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

"We told you," Karina purrs, her fingers wrapping loosely around your aching cock, not providing nearly enough pressure. The touch is maddening—just enough to keep you on edge, not enough to provide relief. Her platinum hair falls across your chest as she leans over you, a few strands sticking to your sweat-dampened skin. "We're not done yet."

"You'll cum when we say," Ningning adds, her tongue darting out to flick across your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Her dark eyes hold yours as she does it again, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with her tongue. The contrast of sharp pain and soft pleasure makes your cock jerk in Karina's loose grip.

Your earlier dominance wavers in the face of their united assault, but you're not ready to surrender control completely. With a growl, you reach out, one hand tangling in Karina's platinum hair, the other gripping Ningning's hip hard enough to leave marks.

You feel the damp heat of Karina's scalp as you fist her hair, the moisture from her exertion making the strands cling to your fingers. On Ningning's hip, your fingers dig into the subtle curve, feeling the contrast of soft skin over firm muscle. Your grip is possessive, commanding, a clear statement that this power struggle isn't over yet.

"No," you state firmly, pulling Karina's face close to yours. Her platinum hair falls around you both like a curtain, individual strands clinging to the sweat on your face and neck. You can smell her shampoo—something expensive and floral—mixed with the musk of sex and the salt of her sweat. "I decide when this ends."

The authority in your voice makes both of them freeze, their eyes widening in surprise before darkening with renewed arousal. Karina's pupils dilate so completely her eyes look almost black, while Ningning's lips part on a shaky exhale.

"Yes, sir," Karina whispers, the unexpected honorific sending a shock of pleasure through your system. The word falls from her swollen lips with surprising naturalness, as if she's been waiting for the opportunity to say it.

Sir? Oh fuck, that's hot coming from her mouth.

Ningning nods her agreement, suddenly docile under your grip. "Whatever you want," she adds, her voice softer than you've heard it all day. The contrast between her usual sharp-tongued confidence and this new, yielding tone makes your cock throb painfully between you.

The surrender in their responses ignites something primal within you. You pull Karina into a bruising kiss, your teeth catching her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper. Her mouth opens immediately under yours, tongue sliding against yours in eager submission. Her platinum hair tangles around your fingers as you hold her in place, controlling the angle, the pressure, the depth of the kiss.

When you release her, her lips are even more swollen than before, a tiny drop of blood where your teeth caught her too hard. The sight of it—evidence of your intensity—makes something dark and satisfied unfurl in your chest.

You turn to Ningning, claiming her mouth with equal ferocity, your tongue pushing past her lips in a clear mimicry of what your cock has been doing to both of them. She yields immediately, moaning into the kiss, her small hand coming up to grip your bicep, feeling the muscle flex under her fingers.

The taste of them mingles on your tongue—Karina's cherry-sweetness, Ningning's slightly spicier flavor, both layered with the salt of sweat and the unique taste of their arousal from when they rode your face. The combination is intoxicating, driving you to deepen the kiss, to take more, to claim her completely.

You break the kiss, looking at them both with undisguised hunger. Their faces are flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with desire. Sweat makes their skin gleam in the fading afternoon light, highlighting the contours of their bodies—the swell of Karina's breasts, the elegant line of Ningning's collarbones, the defined muscles in both their stomachs from years of dance.

"Get on your backs," you command. "Side by side. Now."

They scramble to comply, positioning themselves as instructed, their earlier bratty competition replaced by eager compliance. They lie beside each other, legs spread, bodies on display for your approval. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's fuller curves and platinum hair against Ningning's more delicate frame and dark waves.

Both are covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their skin flushed pink with exertion and arousal. Ningning's small breasts rise and fall with her rapid breathing, the subtle definition in her stomach more visible now as she lies flat. Karina's fuller curves create shadows and valleys across her body, her platinum hair spread out across the pillow like spilled moonlight.

You move to kneel between them, looking down at the feast before you—Karina with her full breasts and perfectly waxed pussy, Ningning with her smaller, perkier breasts and neatly trimmed landing strip. Both of them flushed, breathing heavily, watching you with identical expressions of desperate need.

Your own body bears the marks of your encounter—small crescent-shaped indents from their nails, light bruises forming where their mouths have been too eager, sweat dripping down your chest and back. Your cock stands painfully erect between you, harder than you've ever been, throbbing with each heartbeat.

"Now," you say, your voice calm despite the fire raging through your veins, "let's see which one of you can take me better."

They exchange a glance—half challenge, half solidarity—before turning their attention back to you, waiting for whatever comes next.

I've got the two baddest dancers at school spread out for me. Bio test be damned—this is worth getting benched for.

And what comes next will test all three of you to your limits.

You move between them, your body radiating heat, muscles tense with anticipation. Your hand trails up Ningning's inner thigh, feeling her tremble beneath your touch, while you lean down to capture Karina's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"I want it first," Ningning demands, her voice a mixture of need and command. Her slender fingers wrap around your wrist, trying to guide your hand higher between her legs. The desperation in her tone sends a fresh surge of arousal through you.

Karina breaks the kiss, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. "Make him choose," she challenges, her eyes locked on Ningning's, then flicking back to yours. "Let's see who he really wants."

Jesus, even now they're competing. And I'm supposed to pick?

You pull back slightly, looking between them—both flushed, panting, their bodies on display just for you. An idea forms, something that will satisfy them both while maintaining your newfound control.

"I choose both," you state, your voice leaving no room for argument. "But I'm calling the shots."

Without warning, you move over Ningning, positioning yourself at her entrance. She's so wet you can see it glistening on her inner thighs, pooling slightly beneath her on the sheets. The head of your cock slides through her folds, gathering her arousal, the contact drawing a whimper from both of you.

When you finally push inside, the wet sound is obscene – a lewd squelch that echoes in the room, matching Ningning's sharp gasp as you stretch her open.

"Fuck, you're splitting me in half," she cries out, her back arching off the bed, small breasts pointing upward as you fill her completely. Her inner walls clamp down around you like a silken vise, rippling with involuntary spasms that nearly end you on the spot.

The sensation of her tight heat surrounding you again nearly makes your vision go white, but you hold on to your control by a thread, fingernails digging into your own palms as you fight the urge to come immediately.

You don't give her time to adjust, setting a brutal pace immediately, each thrust punctuated by the wet sound of her arousal and the sharp slap of your hips against the backs of her thighs. Her legs wrap around your waist instinctively, heels digging into your lower back, urging you deeper.

"God, don't stop," she gasps, each word punched out of her with your thrusts. Her hair splays across the pillow in dark waves, sticking to her sweat-slicked temples and cheeks. There's something almost painful in her expression as she takes you, a mixture of pleasure so intense it borders on agony.

You shift your angle, driving deeper, searching for that spot inside her that will make her fall apart. When your cock brushes against it, her reaction is immediate – her entire body seizes, back arching further, a broken sound torn from her throat.

"There! Right there!" she sobs, eyes wide and glassy, unfocused with pleasure. "Oh god, I'm gonna—"

But you haven't forgotten Karina. Your hand finds her core, two fingers sliding easily into her wet heat, thumb circling her clit with deliberate pressure. She gasps at the contact, hips bucking up to meet your hand.

"I need more than fingers," she demands, voice cracking with need as she watches you pound into Ningning. "She's hogging you."

You lean down, capturing one of Ningning's nipples between your teeth as you continue thrusting, the dual sensation making her cry out louder. The taste of her sweat-slicked skin is addictive – salt and something uniquely her that makes you want to lick every inch of her body.

Your fingers pick up speed inside Karina, curved perfectly to hit her g-spot while your thumb continues its assault on her clit. Her hips rise to meet each thrust of your hand, grinding against your palm, seeking more friction.

"I can feel how wet you are," you tell Karina, voice rough with exertion as you continue pounding into Ningning. "Soaked through. All for me."

Sweat pours down your back, drips from your forehead onto Ningning's chest, mingling with the perspiration already coating her skin. It slides between her small breasts, pooling in the hollow of her throat. Impulsively, you lean down to lick it away, tasting the salt on your tongue, feeling her pulse hammering beneath your lips.

The room fills with the sounds of your collective panting, moaning, the wet slap of flesh, the squelch of your fingers in Karina's pussy, the creak of the bed frame protesting your vigorous movements. The air is thick with the scent of sex – musky, primal, intoxicating.

Ningning's nails rake down your back, leaving burning trails that sting deliciously. Her inner walls flutter around you, signaling her approaching orgasm. Her eyes, which have been locked on yours, suddenly squeeze shut, brows drawing together in intense concentration.

"I can't—it's too—" she gasps, words failing her as pleasure overtakes her ability to form coherent thoughts.

You pull out suddenly, leaving her empty and gasping, hovering right at the edge of release. Before she can protest, you shift to Karina, removing your fingers from inside her only to replace them with your cock in one swift movement.

"Finally," Karina gasps, body arching up to meet your thrust. Her pussy welcomes you with a gush of wetness, the lewd sound filling the room as you bottom out inside her. She's different from Ningning—slightly less tight but wetter, hotter, inner walls undulating around your length in deliberate pulses that suggest years of practice.

Her legs immediately wrap around your waist, ankles crossing at the small of your back, pulling you deeper. The change in sensation is mind-bending – from Ningning's tight grip to Karina's silky heat, both equally devastating to your self-control.

Now it's Ningning's turn to receive your fingers, sliding easily into her abandoned pussy, still stretched from your cock and dripping with arousal. You find her g-spot with unerring accuracy, applying firm pressure that has her keening, back arching off the bed.

"No fair," she whimpers, eyes glassy with frustrated tears. "I was so close."

"You'll get your turn again," you promise, voice barely recognizable through your labored breathing. "Want to make it last."

You lean down to kiss Karina as you thrust into her, swallowing her moans. Her mouth is voracious against yours, tongue tangling with yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip. One of her hands tangles in your hair, pulling hard enough to send sparks of pain-pleasure down your spine.

"Feel how fucking wet I am for you?" she pants against your lips, inner muscles clenching deliberately around your length. "Been thinking about this since I first saw you in homeroom."

The confession, unexpected and raw, sends a fresh surge of arousal through you. Your hips stutter in their rhythm before driving deeper, harder, drawing a choked cry from her throat.

Beside you, Ningning grows impatient with just your fingers. She rises to her knees, moving closer until she can press her body against your side. Her small breasts brush against your arm, nipples hard points of contact that make your skin tingle.

"Let me help," she murmurs, surprising you as her hand slides down to where you're joined with Karina. Her slender fingers find Karina's clit, circling it with a practiced touch that suggests this isn't the first time she's touched her friend this way.

Karina's reaction is immediate – a sharp gasp, inner walls clenching around you, back arching to press her breasts up toward you. Her platinum hair fans out across the pillow, damp strands sticking to her flushed face and neck.

"Fuck, Ning," she breathes, using a nickname you've never heard before. "Just like that."

The sight of Ningning's darker fingers against Karina's pale flesh, the contrast of their skin tones as they work together to maximize pleasure, is possibly the hottest thing you've ever seen. Your cock throbs inside Karina at the visual, drawing a knowing smile from both girls.

"You like watching us together, don't you?" Karina purrs, voice thick with satisfaction. "Been playing with each other since sophomore year. Wondering when we'd find someone worth sharing."

The casual revelation sends your mind reeling, imagination filling with images of them together – Karina's head between Ningning's thighs, Ningning's fingers buried inside Karina, their bodies entwined in countless configurations.

Holy shit, this is actually happening.

You increase your pace, pounding into Karina with renewed vigor while maintaining the curl of your fingers inside Ningning. The awkward angle strains your wrist but the dual sensation of both their bodies clenching around different parts of you is worth any discomfort.

Suddenly, you withdraw from Karina, her disappointed whine cutting off as you move down her body. Your tongue finds her clit, sucking the swollen bud between your lips while three fingers thrust into her soaked entrance. She tastes incredible – tangy, sweet, with an underlying musk that's uniquely hers.

"Oh my GOD," she cries out, thighs immediately clamping around your head, one hand fisting in your hair to hold you in place. "Right there, don't you dare fucking stop!"

Your free hand continues working inside Ningning, her wetness covering your fingers, dripping down your wrist. The position is challenging but the sound of both girls moaning, their bodies writhing on either side of you, spurs you to push through the discomfort.

"His tongue," Karina gasps to Ningning, eyes wild, pupils blown wide. "You have no idea."

Instead of responding with words, Ningning leans down to capture one of Karina's nipples in her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. The unexpected cooperation between them – Ningning pleasuring Karina while you work between her legs – creates a tableau of feminine beauty that's almost artful in its eroticism.

You alternate between them, mouth moving from Karina to Ningning, fingers filling whoever doesn't have your tongue, never letting either girl get too close to the edge before switching again. Their frustration builds with each denial, whimpers turning to pleas, then to demands.

"Please," Ningning begs, voice cracking, a tear escaping the corner of her eye to disappear into her hairline. "I need to come so bad it hurts."

"Let her finish," Karina surprises you by saying, her own voice shaky with need. "Want to watch her fall apart on your cock."

The request – so unlike her earlier competitive attitude – makes your decision for you. You move up Ningning's body, positioning yourself at her entrance once more. She's so wet now that you slide in effortlessly, her body accepting you with a soft squelch that should be embarrassing but is just incredibly hot.

"Yes," she hisses, hands immediately finding purchase on your shoulders, nails digging in. "Fuck me like you mean it."

You comply, setting a relentless pace that has the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Her small body takes everything you give her, inner walls gripping you like a vise, fluttering with the beginning of her orgasm.

"Look at me," you command, one hand moving to cup her jaw, forcing her gaze to meet yours. "Want to see your eyes when you come."

Her gaze locks with yours, dark irises nearly swallowed by dilated pupils. There's something raw and vulnerable in her expression that contrasts sharply with her usual guarded demeanor. A single tear tracks down her temple, disappearing into her hairline—overwhelmed by sensation, by the intensity of feeling you so deep inside her.

You grip her small, firm breast in one hand, thumb brushing over the hardened nipple, while your other hand finds her throat. Not squeezing, just resting there, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm. The gesture is possessive, dominant, and her response is immediate—pupils dilating further, inner walls clenching around you.

"Going to come," she warns, voice thin and reedy, barely audible over the sound of your bodies meeting. "Don't stop, don't stop, please don't—"

Her words dissolve into a high-pitched keen as her orgasm crashes through her. Her pussy spasms around you in powerful waves, each contraction stronger than the last, milking your length with incredible strength. Her entire body goes rigid beneath you, back arched so dramatically only her head and hips remain on the mattress.

The sight of her coming undone – face contorted in ecstasy, throat working as she gasps for air, body surrendered completely to pleasure – burns itself into your memory with crystal clarity.

You continue thrusting through her orgasm, prolonging it, feeling each aftershock ripple through her overstimulated body. Only when her whimpers take on an edge of discomfort do you finally pull out, your cock glistening with her release, harder than it's ever been, angry red and pulsing with need.

Before you can move, Karina pushes you onto your back with surprising strength, swinging one leg over to straddle you. Her eyes are wild, desperate, platinum hair hanging in damp strands around her flushed face, lips swollen from kisses.

"My turn," she growls, positioning herself above your cock. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

She sinks down onto your length in one fluid motion, taking you to the hilt with a satisfied groan. The wet heat of her pussy surrounds you, different from Ningning's but equally intoxicating. Where Ningning was all tight, gripping heat, Karina is velvet smoothness with deliberate control, her inner muscles rippling along your length in waves that suggest she's done her Kegels religiously.

"So fucking thick," she gasps, beginning to ride you with the perfect combination of speed and pressure. Her larger breasts bounce with each movement, nipples stiff peaks begging for attention. You reach up to cup them, feeling their weight in your palms, thumbs brushing over the sensitive tips.

She leans forward, changing the angle, her platinum hair falling around your faces like a curtain. The new position has the head of your cock dragging against her front wall with each movement, hitting that spot that makes her thighs tremble.

"Right there," she breathes against your lips, not quite kissing you, just sharing breath. "Can feel you so deep like this."

Ningning, still trembling from her recent orgasm, moves to join you. She positions herself beside you, her small hand sliding down your chest, over your stomach, to where you and Karina are joined. Her fingers find Karina's clit, circling it with practiced ease while her mouth finds your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak.

The dual sensation – Ningning's mouth on your chest, Karina's pussy gripping your cock, the visual of both girls working together to maximize pleasure – sends jolts of electricity down your spine, coiling at the base, threatening to push you over the edge embarrassingly quickly.

"Not yet," Karina commands, reading your expression with unsettling accuracy. She slows her movements, rising until just the head of your cock remains inside her before sinking back down with agonizing slowness. "Want this to last."

Ningning shifts positions, moving behind Karina now, her small hands reaching around to cup Karina's breasts, taking over where your hands just were. The visual is incredible – Ningning's darker skin against Karina's paleness, her delicate fingers pinching Karina's nipples as she continues to ride you.

Karina's head falls back against Ningning's shoulder, throat exposed, eyes closed in concentration as she chases her pleasure. Her inner walls flutter around your length, the beginning of what promises to be an intense orgasm.

"She's close," Ningning murmurs, looking down at you with dark eyes, her chin resting on Karina's shoulder. One of her hands slides down Karina's stomach to find her clit again, rubbing in tight circles as Karina continues to ride you with increasing urgency. "Can feel how tight she's getting."

The sight of them together – Karina bouncing on your cock while Ningning touches her from behind – combined with the incredible sensation of Karina's pussy gripping you like a silken vise, brings you dangerously close to the edge again. Your balls tighten painfully, pressure building at the base of your spine, every muscle in your body tensing with impending release.

"Gonna come inside you," you warn, voice tight with the effort of holding back. "Can't wait any longer."

"Yes," Karina hisses, movements becoming more erratic as her own orgasm approaches. "Fill me up. Want to feel it."

Her platinum hair sticks to her sweat-slicked back, strands darkened by moisture. Beads of sweat roll down between her breasts, along her stomach, glistening in the fading light. The scent of sex fills the room – musky, primal, intoxicating – mingling with the faint coconut of Ningning's shampoo and the cherry sweetness of Karina's lip gloss.

Behind her, Ningning continues her ministrations, one hand on Karina's clit, the other reaching down to cup your balls, feeling their tightness, the way they draw up close to your body as you approach your peak.

"He's about to explode," Ningning announces, voice husky with renewed arousal despite her recent orgasm. Her fingers massage your balls gently, adding another layer of sensation that pushes you closer to the brink. "Can feel how tight they are."

Karina's movements become more deliberate, grinding down on each downstroke, creating a corkscrew motion that has the head of your cock hitting every sensitive spot inside her. Her inner walls flutter around your length, the telltale beginning of her orgasm.

"Don't stop," she gasps, eyes locking with yours, pupils so dilated her blue eyes look almost black. "Please, I'm so close, I'm right there—"

Her words cut off as her orgasm hits, body going rigid above you, thighs clamping down on your hips with bruising force. Her pussy contracts around you in powerful waves, each pulse threatening to pull your own release from you. Her face contorts in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream, a single tear tracking down her flushed cheek as the intensity overwhelms her.

The visual of Karina coming undone above you – head thrown back against Ningning's shoulder, throat working as she tries to breathe through the pleasure, body trembling with the force of her release – combined with the rippling contractions of her pussy around your cock, finally shatters your control.

You grip her hips hard enough to leave bruises, fingertips digging into the soft flesh as you thrust up into her spasming heat. The first pulse of your orgasm hits with such intensity that your vision whites out momentarily, pleasure radiating from your core outward until every nerve ending is alight with sensation.

"Fuck, I'm coming," you growl, the words torn from your throat as you empty yourself inside her in hot, powerful spurts. Each pulse seems stronger than the last, your entire body seized in the grip of the most intense orgasm of your life. Your hips buck uncontrollably, driving deeper, prolonging the pleasure for both of you as her inner walls continue to milk every last drop from you.

Karina collapses forward onto your chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks. Her skin sticks to yours with sweat, her breathing ragged against your neck. Behind her, Ningning strokes her back gently, fingertips tracing the knobs of her spine with surprising tenderness.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the room are your collective breathing, gradually slowing as your heart rates return to something approaching normal. The scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, mingled with sweat and the faint traces of their different perfumes – Karina's expensive floral scent, Ningning's lighter coconut notes, both now thoroughly blended with the musk of shared pleasure.

Eventually, Karina shifts, wincing slightly as she lifts herself off your softening cock. A mixture of your release and her own arousal follows, dripping onto your stomach in a lewd display that somehow still manages to send a weak throb of interest through your spent cock.

She collapses beside you, one arm thrown across her eyes, chest still rising and falling with slightly labored breaths. Ningning moves to your other side, curling against you like a satisfied cat, her small hand coming to rest possessively on your chest.

The three of you lie there in sweat-soaked, satisfied silence, the reality of what just happened slowly sinking in as your brain begins to function again. Your body feels simultaneously weightless and heavy, every muscle pleasantly exhausted, skin hypersensitive as you come down from the most intense experience of your life.

Ningning's fingers trace lazy patterns across your chest, occasionally circling a nipple, making you twitch despite your complete exhaustion. Her head rests in the crook of your shoulder, damp hair tickling your skin. You can feel her heartbeat gradually slowing where her small breasts press against your side.

Karina reaches for your free hand, intertwining her fingers with yours in a gesture that feels surprisingly intimate after everything you've just done. Her thumb strokes the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, sending tiny shivers up your arm.

"So much better than bio class," she murmurs, voice still slightly hoarse from all her moaning. "Worth missing that test for sure."

You laugh, the sound pulling from deep in your chest. "Coach is gonna kill me when I get benched, but yeah... definitely worth it."

Ningning lifts her head to look at you, dark eyes still soft with lingering pleasure. She leans in to place a gentle kiss on your lips – so different from the desperate, hungry kisses you shared earlier. This one is almost sweet, her lips soft and yielding against yours.

When she pulls back, Karina immediately takes her place, claiming her own kiss. Her style is different – a little deeper, her tongue briefly tracing your lower lip before she pulls away with a small nip that makes you gasp.

"We should make this a regular thing," Karina suggests, trying to sound casual despite the hint of eagerness in her voice. Her fingers continue their gentle exploration, trailing down your stomach now, circling your navel, deliberately avoiding your spent cock.

"Mmm," Ningning agrees, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Next time I go first though." The competitive edge is back in her voice, though softer now, wrapped in playfulness rather than genuine rivalry.

You find yourself laughing again, equal parts disbelief and delight. "There's going to be a next time?"

"Duh," they say in unison, then exchange a look and burst into giggles.

Karina props herself up on one elbow, pushing damp platinum strands behind her ear. With her makeup smudged and her hair a mess, she looks younger somehow, more like the girl who sits behind you in English rather than the untouchable dance team captain.

"I wonder if Yujin would want to join us sometime," she muses, glancing at both of you. "Now that I know about your little secret hookup."

Your face heats up at the mention of what you thought was your private encounter. "You think she'd be into this?"

Ningning shakes her head slightly. "She kept that whole thing with you totally quiet. Didn't even tell us, and we tell each other everything." She shoots a meaningful look at Karina. "She might not be into sharing."

"Maybe," Karina concedes with a thoughtful expression. "But I've seen how she looks at Ningning during practice."

Ningning rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "Whatever."

"And I'm still determined to finish what Chaewon started with you at Jackson's party," Karina continues, poking Ningning's side playfully. "Before she chickened out."

"She didn't chicken out, she just got weird about it," Ningning protests, but there's a wistful quality to her voice. "Said she wasn't ready or something."

"Trust me," Karina says confidently, "if she saw what I just saw, she'd definitely be ready. We just need to ease her into it."

Your eyes widen at the casual way they're discussing expanding this... whatever this is. Your cock gives a valiant twitch despite being completely spent, drawing knowing smirks from both girls.

"Look at that," Karina teases, glancing down at your slight movement. "Someone likes the idea."

"Don't break him," Ningning warns, reaching across you to flick Karina's arm lightly. "We need him functional for next time."

Karina catches Ningning's hand, bringing it to her lips for a quick kiss before releasing it. The gesture speaks to a depth of connection between them that goes beyond the competitive dynamic you've witnessed so far.

"So what do you say?" Karina asks, blue eyes fixed on yours, one eyebrow raised in challenge. "Ready to be our regular class-skipping buddy?"

"With benefits," Ningning adds with a suggestive smile, her hand drifting dangerously close to your cock again, though it's far too soon for you to respond.

You think about your day just hours ago – boring, predictable, defined by classes and swim meets and the constant pressure to maintain your GPA. Then you look at these two incredible girls curled against you, their bodies warm and soft, offering something you never imagined would be within your reach.

"Bio test was today," you remind yourself aloud, wincing slightly. "I'm definitely getting a zero."

"You can make it up," Karina says with a dismissive wave. "Just tell Mr. Park you were sick or something."

Ningning nods in agreement, her fingers drawing circles on your chest. "No one's gonna believe you'd skip for no reason anyway. You're like, annoyingly responsible."

As they continue chatting, arms draped across your body, heads resting against your shoulders, you find yourself wondering what exactly you've gotten yourself into. The dance team's secret hookup? Their shared boyfriend? The guy lucky enough to be their favorite distraction?

Whatever this is, whatever label might eventually apply, one thing is certain: there's no way you're backing out now.

Bio test be damned, you think, pulling both girls closer as you sink into the comfort of Karina's bed.

This is definitely worth getting benched for.

#malereader #kpop smut #cloudtrnsprncy #cloudtsmut #smut #karina x reader #ningning x reader #karina #ningning

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cutehoons02 · 22 days ago

Text

A sweet poison

Special 1000 followers!!!

Harry Potter series Jake pt

*pairing: pervy ravenclaw Sunghoon x popular slytherin Girl

*trope: opposites attract

*synopsis: Y/n, a cunning, spoiled, and provocative Slytherin, constantly clashes with Sunghoon, a brilliant and cynical Ravenclaw, who is irresistibly drawn to his complex personality. Despite the tension between them and their mutual attitude of defiance, an intense chemistry emerges beneath their banter. Their relationship evolves into a game of power and attraction, where provocations become a battleground, fueled by passions that are never fully expressed. Y/n, always in control, challenges Sunghoon to push past his limits, while he struggles to maintain his cool, but fails to do so completely.

*tags: A lot of tension, Hoon is slightly shy and the protagonist a bit spoiled, a lot of kisses, make couple as prefects of the castle at night, power games, degradation, masturbation (m. hidden room of the castle) unprotected sex (don’t horny) (f. masturbation) suckers, fingering, dirty talk, obsession, pet names (vipers,princess) (hoon,hoonie) +18, confession of their feelings

(English is not my native language)

Being a Slytherin in 2025 had become, for many, almost a trend—a label to flaunt with pride — all smug smirks and loosened ties around stiff collars but you weren’t like them. Your name carried weight.

Your surname whispered in the corridors of Hogwarts, came with a heavy legacy. Daughter of one of the last Pureblood families still loyal to the old magical aristocracy. Not the polished, flashy kind fit for magazine covers, but the real kind — the kind that had shed blood and cast spells to protect their name... and that of others.

Your father was in Azkaban. He had protected the Malfoy family — and not only them. He made forbidden deals, hid evidence, and buried names.

He wasn’t a Death Eater, but… he’d come damn close. And you?

You wore that burden like an emerald choker: heavy, uncomfortable, but devastatingly beautiful.

You couldn’t care less about people’s blood status — if someone studied at Hogwarts, they deserved to be there. Period but you'd never stoop so low as to say it out loud.

Not when your Slytherin aura — cold, elegant, untouchable — was such a convenient way to keep people at bay… and keep eyes on you from those too scared to get close.

The boys wanted you. The girls… either feared you or desperately tried to be near you. Real friends? You could count them on one hand. Maybe half.

And then there was him.

Park Sunghoon. Ravenclaw. Muggle-born. One of the brightest — most dangerously intelligent — wizards of his generation. Hoon didn’t believe in Houses. He didn’t care for appearances — he believed in results, merit, and reason over instinct. He looked at you the way someone looks at a particularly annoying problem — an equation that refused to make logical sense. You were brilliant, sure. But too… theatrical. Too seductive. Too moody. Too everything.

And yet, he couldn’t look at you. There were days when he’d stare from across the room, thinking you wouldn’t notice. But you did. You always did. Because he hated you — or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The truth?

He wanted you. Worse — he couldn’t get you out of his head.

And you knew it. Oh, you knew.

Every time you walked past him, you left behind a trail of perfume and poison. Every time you sat near him in the library, just to throw him off.

Every time you dropped a razor-sharp comment in class, and caught that twitch of a smile on his lips — the one that said only one thing:

This girl is driving me insane.

He hated how perfectly dramatic you were. You loved how hard he tried not to notice and while everyone at Hogwarts kept on with their lives — botched potions, flying brooms, half-cast spells — the two of you were there two opposite poles. Two Houses at War and yet, all it took was a look, a silence held a second too long, a whispered fight in a forgotten tower and the world stopped making sense.

The magic hall was one of the oldest in the castle. Tall, gothic, with faded tapestries on the walls, embroidered with the entwined symbols of the four Houses: the lion, the snake, the badger, and the raven.

Floating candles flickered in the air, casting a warm golden light that spilled across faces, neatly pressed uniforms, and the excited murmurs of the students.

You walked in as you always did — with that graceful step that wasn’t trying to draw attention… but always did.

The muffled sound of your shoes on the ancient floor almost seemed to set the rhythm of everyone’s breathing.

You sat in the Slytherin section, back straight, gaze sharp.

Everyone was talking — about Quidditch, the ever-trashier Muggle Ball, or checking if the Headmaster had arrived yet.

But your eyes, went straight where they shouldn’t have. There they were:

Heeseung — all lion pride and cocky grin. Next to him, T/L — his sister, a textbook Hufflepuff, kindness written across her face and sunshine in her voice. Sunoo, beaming as always and then… him.

Park Sunghoon.

Blue and black uniform, perfectly crisp.

Broad shoulders under his cloak. Long legs folded with that obsessive precision. His hair, thick and styled, always looked just a little tousled — like he’d fought a storm and come out victorious on purpose. You leaned against the desk with poised elegance, fingers laced.

T/L caught your eye and smiled warmly. You returned a faint nod — your rare, sincere way of saying “Yeah, I see you.”

And that’s when you noticed it — Hoon’s flushed cheeks.

The moment he saw you'd seen him, he looked away with a clumsy shift and pretended to adjust his tie. And you? You laughed — quietly, inwardly. Every time, the same story… those cheeks. That boyish flush. He always said it was the cold… sure. Cold ears, cold wrists, cold neck.

If you caught him jerking off thinking about you, he’d say he was “training against chronic irritation.”

Pathetic.…Adorable. But pathetic.

You didn’t even have time to tease him properly — you already had a few sharp lines ready on your tongue — When the great doors opened.

The Headmaster entered, and silence fell like a spell.

His voice, as every year, was slow, deliberate, and heavy with the solemnity only Hogwarts could conjure.

-Prefects, students, welcome to the next stage of the Conjunction Project- he began, hands clasped behind his back. -As you know, this exercise is meant to encourage inter-house collaboration…-

The speech went on, but the hall felt like it was holding its breath.

The duets. Mixed-House pairs, assigned for missions, studies, and exercises.

Two whole months and unless someone was hospitalized with dragon fever, the partners wouldn’t change.

-No exceptions,- the Headmaster added. -Except magical impossibility or illness. I trust that’s clear.-

He looked down at the parchment and began reading names. Each pair sparked groans, giggles, or sighs of resignation.

Until— Park Sunghoon… and Y/n L/n.-

Silence cracked the room for a second too long. Then came the whispers.

The stifled laughter, you turned your head toward him. He rolled his eyes in slow, theatrical disbelief and you smiled — that slow, sharp, challenging smile of yours, with just a touch of venom.

Of course.

Of course, this had to happen. As if it wasn’t enough having her voice in my dreams and her legs in my head. Two months. Two fucking months with her. With that tongue that only knows how to provoke, and that smile that makes me want to shut her up… and not with a spell,

Sunghoon thought.

It was 8:50 PM when you stepped out of the pool. Your hair is still damp, your skin carrying the scent of lavender salts and calming spells. You’d indulged a little too much in the prefects’ private sauna — one of the very few privileges in the castle that made you feel treated the way you deserved.

By 8:57 PM, you were still on the other side of the castle. At exactly 9:00, the astronomical clock in the heart of the tower struck with a solemn, echoing dong. At 9:02, you were running — cloak fluttering behind you, your shoes still a little wet in your rush. And by 9:06, you saw him.

Hoon was already there, standing at the entrance of the North corridor in the East Tower, bathed in the flickering light of an enchanted torch. His blue-and-black cloak perfectly in place, tie tight, expression unreadable… and his foot tapping impatiently against the floor. Living cliché, you thought. You approached with a confident step, a smirk playing on your lips. “Already checked the ghosts of the tower, or just practicing your patience on me?” Your voice was smooth, with just the right dose of poison. Hoon looked up at you with a huff. “You’re late.” His tone was sharp, precise — almost surgical. “Your first patrol. Congratulations, Y/n. You managed to turn duty into a spa-diva drama performance.” You let out a soft laugh and stepped even closer — your cloak parting just enough to reveal your bare legs under the uniform, your wand tucked into a garter you wore purely for vanity. “Oh, Hoonie…” you whispered, tilting your head. “Don’t tell me you’re flushed with rage again.” You reached out and theatrically brushed your fingers along his warm, blushing cheek. “You know, if you want to join me in the sauna, you just have to ask. No need to fake the fury.” Hoon clenched his jaw and took half a step back, throwing you a dark look. “It was the cold. You know, that thing that exists outside your cloud of perfume and narcissism.” His tone was sarcastic, biting but behind that stiff mask, you saw it. You always saw it — the red in his cheeks, the slightly quicker breath, the way he couldn’t look at you for more than three seconds without turning away. You followed as he started walking, those long legs moving quickly down the corridor. “What’s wrong, Ravenclaw? Running away from me?” You teased, following at a slower, more deliberate pace — a graceful glide. “Or are you afraid that if you slow down, you’ll, I don’t know… notice the sound of my footsteps behind you a little too much?” He lit the path with his wand, snapping out a curt “Lumos,” and without turning around, shot back: “The only sound I notice is your ego entering every room three minutes before you do.” You laughed. Quietly. Seductively. You walked behind him like a shadow — but with the elegance of an ancient charm.

What a challenge. What a damn walking riddle. He wants me. I see it. I feel it. But every time, he hides behind his bookish logic — and I love every second of this war. He’s playing. As always. And every time — every damn time — I catch myself thinking about that mouth… even while fending off Dementors during training.

Two months. Two. Whole. Months. What the hell did I do to deserve this divine punishment wrapped in a school uniform?

You walked up to him as you continued down the dark corridor.

“Hoon?”

“Mhm?”

“You forgot to check behind that statue. There could be a Boggart… or worse… a student breaking curfew.”

He half turned.

You were too close — eyes locked on his, your breath brushing against his skin, and you bit your lip.

“You should check, you know. It’s your duty… Prefect Park.”

And you walked ahead, this time without another word but his ears were still red.

How is it even possible that someone who looks like he was sculpted by a god is too boring to give him a single flaw?

That straight, sharp nose — so unlike your own. You had a slight bump, and that difference annoyed you… and excited you at the same time.

His moles, scattered across his face like secret little constellations. You knew exactly where they were, by heart.

Thin lips, but slightly full, like they were always about to tell you something he’d never say.

Or kiss you — but only if you deserved it.

His hair was thick, dark, just messy enough from the November wind.

And those shoulders. Those damn broad, straight shoulders.

Lean, defined body — nothing flashy… but you knew what was under that uniform.

That image was still burned into your mind — him in the prefects' pool. Shirtless, water dripping from his neck, running down his chest, and stopping where eyes weren’t supposed to look.

But you had looked. Oh, you’d looked perfectly.

That’s exactly when he turned abruptly and pointed his wand at you — not threateningly, but just enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“You should be checking the corridors, not counting my moles.”

His tone was cynical. Tired. Irritated.

You smiled. Slowly. Poisonously. Your signature move.

“Honestly, I find your constellations much more interesting. It’s November, after all. No sane person’s out at night in this cold… except for the two of us.

One because he’s a control freak, and the other because… well. Just look at this luck.”

Hoon clenched his jaw.

“Being a prefect isn’t a privilege to strut down corridors like it’s a fashion show. You have duties, Y/n.”

“Oh, Hoonie… such seriousness. Are you saying you don’t like it when I look at you?”

You stepped a little closer.

“Because you can pretend all you want… but your cheeks, sweetheart, are literally screaming ‘look at me again.’”

“It’s because of the cold.”

“Of course it is. And I’m a Hufflepuff with a heart of gold.”

The bickering went on like that the whole patrol.

You teasing him, him snapping back — sharp responses, always with that barely-contained nervousness that betrayed everything he refused to admit. Pure tension. Loaded silences. Steps were taken too close. Glances that lasted one second too long. Until the shift ended.

You walked together toward the common rooms, and when you reached the entrance to Slytherin, you turned for one last jab.

“So chivalrous. Walking me right to the serpent’s lair. Should I be moved?”

Hoon looked at you with steady eyes and a flat voice.

“I do this for everyone. You’re not special, Y/n. You’re just like the others.”

You stared at him for a second. Silence. Then, with a half-smile:

“Ah. Then it must be a real problem… that none of those other girls make you lose your mind like I do, right?”

He clenched his jaw. His eyes — for a second — lit up with something that wasn’t just sarcasm anymore.

Something darker. Something far more wanting. But he said nothing. Just a cold: “Goodnight.”

And turned away, his cloak brushing against his ankles as he walked off — with that damn perfect stride.

It had been two weeks since patrols with Hoon started, and every single night had been its kind of chaos — all silent steps and poisonous words.

One night, you’d found him in the middle of a corridor with his shirt open, locked in a duel with a fleeing wizard (spoiler: he took him down in one move).

Another time, you two ended up hiding behind a statue to avoid Peeves, and you fell on top of him — hands on his chest, heart in your throat.

Other nights, it was just silence, and you found yourself walking too close, breathing him in, imagining things that had nothing to do with patrolling.

But that night, you were on time.

You’d spent hours in the Common Room, hunched over scrolls, books, and vials.

Amortentia had almost melted your brain — not just because of how complex the potion was, but because of what it meant.

The love potion. The one that smelled like your deepest desire.

You stretched slightly as the evening cold sliced through the air like a thin blade. Fingers frozen, lips chapped but your eyes were all on him.

Hoon was there, leaning against a stone wall, with that usual Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around his neck.

Tired eyes, messy hair, pale skin kissed by the cold.

How do you always look so annoyed… and so fucking gorgeous at the same time? you thought.

He noticed you looking. Again. He shot you a sharp look.

“Can you not stare like you’re trying to read my mind?”

“Aww, are you nervous tonight?” you giggled. “Afraid I’ll find out that beneath all that Ravenclaw perfection, you’ve got a soft heart?”

He scoffed, gripping his wand tightly.

“No. I’m afraid you’ll freeze me solid with your gaze. You’ve got a Basilisk effect.”

You walked for a few minutes, stairs creaking beneath your steps, until your voice broke the silence:

“Have you studied Amortentia?”

“Obviously yes. Not all of us spend our time staring at people or brewing random potions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So you heard mine didn’t turn out right, huh?”

“Oh, word got around.” He turned with a half-smile.

“I’d bet your beloved would smell like… let’s see… mist, moldy moss, and maybe even a hint of aromatic agony.”

You stopped.

No laughter. No teasing. Your gaze went ice-cold.

“Real funny, Park. He didn’t answer right away. He looked at you.

Then took a step forward — but you turned and started walking again, ignoring him. The silence grew thick. Almost solid.

Hoon followed you, but said nothing.

“Y/n—”

“Don’t.”

“It was just a joke. Don’t be childish.” You stopped dead in your tracks.

“You know what all of you are?” Your voice trembled — but not from the cold. “You all think you’re so clever. So superior. But you don’t know shit about me.”

He said nothing.

“To you, I’m just the daughter of the guy in prison. The pretty Slytherin — spoiled, easy to hate. But have you ever wondered what it’s like to carry that crap with you every single day? At Hogwarts, people talk. Always. They never forget. And they think they know you just because of your last name.”

Hoon looked at you. His expression had changed. No more sarcasm. No more coldness. Just something more human. More real.

“I…”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“If you want to make fun of me, go ahead. But at least do it properly.

Not with that cheap sarcasm. And next time you bring up Amortentia, remember: Not everyone gets to smell something beautiful. For some of us… it just smells like loneliness.” And you walked away.

Leaving him there — alone, confused… and with a strangely heavy heart.

The Potions classroom was wrapped in a pulsing dimness, lit only by the flickering flames beneath the cauldrons and the pearly shimmer of the potions in progress.

Professor Slughorn, as enthusiastic as ever, clapped his hands and announced,

<Well, everyone, today we’ll test your true skills: each of you will brew Amortentia without the aid of books. Rely on your memory and your talent.>

After an hour of careful focus, mixing rose petals, Ashwinder eggs, and Moonwater, most of the students had completed their brews.

Professor Slughorn moved through the classroom, scrutinizing each cauldron with a practiced eye.

Next to you, T/L — Heeseung’s sister and your friend — leaned over her cauldron to smell her potion. A sudden flush bloomed across her cheeks.

“So?” you asked in a teasing whisper, smiling mischievously. "What do you smell?”

-N-nothing in particular,- she replied, trying to sound casual.

“Liar,” you grinned. “You turned red like an apple.”

T/L lowered her gaze, flustered.

-Alright, alright… I smell vanilla, rain, Quidditch field grass, and… freshly baked bread.-

You burst into laughter.

“Those scents only remind me of one person in this class — Jake Sim, Gryffindor’s top flirt. His list of conquests is longer than Fantastic Beasts.”

-Shh! Shut up!- she hissed, shooting you a glare while trying not to smile.

Professor Slughorn approached your station, inspecting your potion with interest.

<Excellent, Y/N,> he said with a pleased nod. <Your Amortentia has the perfect mother-of-pearl sheen, and the vapor spirals beautifully. Flawless work.>

He smiled and added,

<Now, lean in and tell me what you smell.>

You bent over the cauldron and inhaled deeply.

But… nothing. No scent reached you. No familiar fragrance. No unfamiliar one. Just… olfactory silence.

Professor Slughorn looked at you, puzzled.

You shook your head, confused. “No, Professor. Nothing at all.”

He furrowed his brow, thoughtful. <Interesting… Very interesting. Perhaps your mind is too focused to let the emotions flow. Try again, Y/N,> he said gently, though his eyes already held that shade of pity that made your blood boil.

You took a deep breath and leaned in again, eyes closed, letting your thoughts drift.

You searched for something happy.

A moment. A face. Summer at the lake, with your grandmother teaching you the charm to keep water cool in jars.

Your first successful spell.

A quiet evening in the Slytherin common room, with rain tapping on the windows and green light pulsing on the walls. But still… nothing. You inhaled deeply. Still nothing. You opened your eyes and gave a small shake of your head.

The classroom was filled with whispers.

“Maybe she’s too bitter to feel love.”

“Of course — look at that snake face.”

“She needs a potion to feel something, not just smell it.”

“Love can’t be bought — not even with that last name.”

You backed away from the cauldron. For the first time, you lowered your gaze. Not out of shame. Out of rage. That strange stab in your chest hit harder than you expected. You felt T/L’s warm hand lightly brush your back, followed by the gentler touch of Sunoo.

And then—

'Well, no surprise,' came a fake-cheerful voice. It was Jace Roswell — a boy you’d dated for a couple of weeks.

'I mean… you’re the daughter of a convict. You don’t just inherit the blood, right? You inherit the emptiness too.'

Total silence. Your hand closed around your wand. Your eyes — two green blades, ready to curse him where he stood but before you could speak, another voice cut through.

Cold. Sharp. Poisoned like a dagger dipped in bitterness.

“Stupefy!”

Jace was hit full force, tongue paralyzed and body jolting backward like he’d been shocked. His notes scattered across the floor — along with his pride.

Hoon lowered his wand slowly, his eyes locked on Jace.

“Funny,” he said, voice calm and deadly. “For someone so mediocre at Potions, you sure have a big mouth.”

Professor Slughorn turned in alarm — but it was the look in Sunghoon’s eyes that silenced everyone. And then he looked at you. Really looked at you. Not with the usual scorn or exasperation. This time, he looked at you like someone seeing something fragile… or something powerful that had just cracked. But you stood up tall. You left the classroom without a word.

And Sunghoon remained there, wand still in hand, staring at the door you had just closed behind you.

You fled the classroom like you could outrun that burning emptiness inside you. It wasn’t just anger. It was frustration. It was that cursed fear — the fear that maybe you were like that: unfeeling. Empty. Forever the daughter of a man they whispered about — a ruined legend. No one wanted to see you. Only the mask. The bloodline. The shadow and that damned scent of Amortentia you no longer even wanted to find.

You climbed up, to the Astronomy Tower. No one dared set foot in that place, especially not in the forgotten side classroom — too ancient, too cold for the faint-hearted. But you weren’t faint-hearted.Casting the spell to unlock the door was a reflex. The portal creaked open and shut behind you with a sharp snap. The stone was cold beneath your palms. The broken windows let in the light like a knife, slicing through the darkness.And yet, you weren’t alone. A sound behind you — soft but deliberate — made your jaw clench.

“You have no right to follow me,” you hissed, not turning around. “And certainly not to defend me in front of everyone. You’re the first who thinks I’m incapable of loving anyone.” Your voice came out acidic. Sharp. Poisoned. But Sunghoon didn’t flinch. He never did.

“Why does it bother you so much that someone treats you like a human being?” You spun around and stormed toward him, shoving him hard against the wall. The stone echoed from the impact his expression was ice but his eyes… his eyes said something entirely different.

“You’re pathetic,” you spat, face close to his. “You act like some perfect little Ravenclaw, but the moment I raise my voice, you come running after me like a puppy. It’s almost cute.” His jaw tensed. “And you act like a wounded child who lashes out just to avoid feeling exposed.” You let out a laugh. Low. Disbelieving. “See? You’re a walking contradiction, Sunghoon. Rational, perfect, distant — and yet here you are, chasing me up here just because you can’t stand the thought that someone said something to me… something you might’ve thought yourself.”

He stared at you for a long moment. His gaze dropped — briefly — to your lips, then came back up. “This loser, as you call him, is the only one today who had the guts to tell you you’re not alone. Even when you’re too proud to realize it.” And in that moment, something snapped. As if every word, every insult, every stolen glance in the corridors or during late-night patrols had finally reached its breaking point.

You kissed him.

It was impulsive. Rough. Angry. Your hands gripped the collar of his uniform and your lips crashed against his in a kiss that held nothing sweet. It was fire and defiance. It was revenge and hunger.

It was confusion — and… he responded with the same raw intensity.

His hands found your waist — but it wasn’t domination.

It was needed. A need so pure it made you tremble and yet, when you finally pulled apart, his eyes were cold again as if he’d just realized what had happened.

“Careful, Y/N,” he whispered, voice low and edged. “You might find out Ravenclaws can burn too.”

And you, with a bold, wicked smirk, shot back: “And you might find out Slytherins have a heart but only for those who earn it.”

As you kissed again, his hands gripped you with urgency, and you pushed him back onto the old, worn-out settee wedged between the walls and the dark windows of the tower. The floorboards creaked beneath you — but you didn’t care.

You straddled him, with the venomous elegance of someone who knows exactly how much control they hold.

Your hands took his face as you kissed him again — hungry as if that touch could wash away the bitterness in your mouth.

You bit his lower lip — intentionally.

He let out a low groan. You smiled. Fierce. Dangerous. “Really? You whimper at that, Hoon? I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be good at enduring… pain.” His pupils dilated as he stared at you.

“You’re a damn viper.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” You traced a nail along his throat — following the rhythm of his breath.

“Much better than sweetheart, darling, or princess. I’m not sweet, Hoon. I’m poison.”

“I’m starting to notice,” he murmured, voice low — with a crooked, defiant little smile, somewhere between awestruck and undone. You grabbed his cloak and yanked it off with purpose.

Then your fingers closed around the zipper of his hoodie.

With one firm pull, the heavy blue-and-black fabric slipped off his broad shoulders, revealing a fitted black tank top underneath.

Your gaze dropped to his chest — the sculpted lines of a lean, toned body beneath all that Ravenclaw rigidity.

“Well, well… who would’ve thought? Underneath all that top-of-the-class tension, there’s a body built for sin.”

He opened his mouth to reply — but you didn’t let him. You leaned in, kissing his neck — slow, deliberate — leaving behind small, growing marks.

Your teeth grazed his pale skin, your mouth sucking just enough to leave proof, one kiss at a time and every time you bit, you saw his skin bloom red like temptation, and inside, you felt something like pride.

Because tomorrow… tomorrow, he’d wear your marks — the marks of a Slytherin’s sin. Sunghoon held his breath, then whispered near your ear:

“They… might hear us…” You lifted your head just enough, your eyes locked onto his.

“What’s the matter, little Raven? Afraid someone might find out the golden boy moans while a Slytherin is marking him like he’s hers?”

He shut his eyes for a second, gritting his teeth.

“Merlin, you’re unmanageable.”

“No,” you whispered against his skin. “I’m irresistible. And you… you’ve fallen.”

You kissed him again — slower this time, deeper — while his hands slid up along your thighs beneath your uniform. It was a power game.

A battle of breath, of tension, of who would give in first. But neither of you wanted to surrender. Neither of you could. Not yet.

His hands trembled slightly beneath your lifted skirt, fingers hesitant — like he still thought he could stop this.

Adorable.

“What’s wrong, golden boy? Top of the class go mute the second he brushes against a wet pair of panties?”

He didn’t answer. His cheeks flushed, and that usual air of superiority vanished — replaced by something far more interesting:

Confused submission.

Without waiting, you took his hand and carried it exactly where you needed it. "You have studied forbidden spells, ancient formulas, and advanced potions… and yet you tremble at the thought of making me enjoy. How ridiculous you are." He inhaled slowly but did not back down. His fingers moved under the lace of your now-soaked panties and your horny, slow, hesitant cunt. When he touches you, moan loudly. Wet. Hot. Open. Just for him. "Look what you're doing to me, Ravenclaw…" he whispered against his mouth. He stuttered, kneaded with shame and desire.

"You like it, don't you? Make me like this. Feel my thighs tremble under your fingers. You want it as much as I do." His finger slipped into it, and your body reacted with a visceral tremor. You huddled over him, enjoying the way his control crumbled. "Shut up … please…" he muttered. "If they hear us…" You stopped for a moment just to smile. "That would be perfect, my love. Imagine someone coming in and finding you like this: with two fingers inside a Slytherin and your flap ready to explode." He gasped, almost moaning. And he sank another finger.

"Oh, fuck…" hissed, squeezing your thighs around his hand. "You're good, you know? A perfect guy who knows where to touch me. Who would have thought." "Y / n … you … you're fucking my hand…" he stammered with his eyes half-closed, his breath short. "Yes. And I will until you make me come so hard that I can't walk to the Common Room." His thumb moved-accurate, damn perfect. He began to tease your clit as you felt bloated with pleasure like a storm about to explode. Every time he pumped his fingers inside your poor cunt you would moan and he would bite his lips so as not to moan at the sight of you getting his fingers fucked and riding on them like it was your favorite thing.

"Faster," hissing through his teeth. "Let me enjoy it, Ravenclaw. Do something useful in your perfect life." His fingers sank, his thumb turned, and you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed His hair, forced him to look at you as your body stretched. "I'm coming…" you said, but it was already too late. Pleasure swept you into a warm, slimy, pulsating wave. And he stood there beneath you, his fingers inside, his face upset, confused … excited like I've never seen him before. "Look how small you are," you told him while still breathing hard. "You made me enjoy with your fingers as if it were your mission. Maybe you should write it in your thesis." "Y/n… I…" he stammered, still with wet fingers. "Shhh," You put a finger on his lips. "Don't talk," you said as you kissed again.

That night, you weren't looking at him. For the past month, it had become almost a reflex: your eyes shifting to Hoon as soon as he entered the room, his flawless gestures, that voice always too calm, too sharp. But not this time. This time, you kept your gaze fixed ahead, your elbows at a distance from him, your mind elsewhere. And he felt it. He sensed it. It was like a sting to his pride. "Strange, Slytherin…" he whispered as you walked through the castle. "Tonight, you're not trying to seduce me with your gaze. What's going on? Don’t you notice your knight who defended you in front of everyone?" He said it with that half-irritating, sarcastic smile of his, the one only a Ravenclaw too clever for their own good could have. But you didn’t laugh. You slowly turned to him, your eyes as hard as marble.

"Funny. Still on about that? Even though you defended me, everyone thinks I’m incapable of loving anyone. And you know what? Maybe they’re right." He stiffened. He didn’t expect that. Not from you. He tried to say something, but you didn’t give him space. "And maybe you think so too, Hoon. No matter how much you pretend to be above it all… you let what they say about me influence you. You’re cynical. Fucking cynical." Hoon’s eyes darkened. He didn’t say anything. He took a step. Then another. And suddenly, his hands were on your hips. He shoved you against the wall with enough force to take your breath away. His face was very close.

"You don’t know anything about me." "Oh, I know far too well," you retorted, lifting your chin in defiance. "Your face is an open book, especially when you play the know-it-all. You know what people say, Hoon? That you’ve got a crush on me." He snarled through gritted teeth. "You’re arrogant. Superficial. And spoiled. You think you’re invincible just because people are afraid of you. But you’re just a broken little girl, hiding the emptiness behind lipstick and that bitchy attitude." You felt your heartbeat quicken. Not with anger. With something far more dangerous. "Go on, Ravenclaw. Tell me again how much I disgust you. Let me show you how much I get under your skin, while you're the first to chase me and want my body, maybe even my mind." "Under my skin?" he hissed. "You're a fucking toxin. You get inside me and ruin me. And yet here I am. Still on top of you."

He was about to kiss you. Maybe to yell at you. Maybe to implode. But it didn’t happen. The sound of footsteps broke the tension. Three prefects from other houses rushed toward you, visibly agitated. -Hey! Stop it right now, what the hell—" 'It’s not the time!' one of them intervened, worried. 'Three first-year kids are missing. We need to find them immediately. They might have gone into the Forbidden Forest.' You and Hoon exchanged a glance, still heavy breaths, the wall still warm against your back, his hands still firm on your hips. No one spoke. But something had changed and suddenly, the night had grown much darker.

The wind blew harshly against your cloaks, wet with snow, slicing at your cheeks like icy blades as you all moved in silence, wands raised, along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Detection spells floated through the air, one after another: Homenum Revelio, Point Me, Lumos Maxima… but nothing. No response. No trace. There were ten of you, and the professor split everyone into pairs. Naturally, you got paired with Hoon.

He walked ahead, stiff, silent, as if the cold didn’t touch him. You followed a few steps behind, wand clenched in your fist, steps careful, mind crowded. Every time a branch snapped or the snow rustled oddly, you instinctively moved closer to him. Until, without even noticing, you were practically pressed against his back.

“Using me as a human shield, Y/n?” he said without turning around, his voice as cold and sharp as ever.

Then, the scream. Shrill. Agonizing. It didn’t even sound human.

You grabbed his wrist without thinking. Hard. Your frozen fingers on his warm skin.

“Now’s not the time to be a smartass,” you growled. “There’s a child out there screaming.”

He looked down at your hand gripping his wrist like it was the only real thing in the middle of that blizzard. He swallowed hard. His jaw clenched violently. It was below freezing. But you… you were too close. Too warm. Too much.

“Your touch makes less sense than a Muggle in a Charms class,” he muttered, trying to hide the fact that he was practically burning up under his cloak.

Then you both screamed. At the top of your lungs.

No response. Just the storm. And then… a red light in the dark.

You ran. Fast. Brooms forgotten behind you. The light pulsed through the trees, flickering like an alarm.

And when you reached it— A young Gryffindor boy. Trapped. And in front of him… a five-headed beast. Towering. Twisted. Screaming. Its jaws gaping, drooling, circling the boy like a trap from hell.

“Minus 200 points to Gryffindor for being a monumental idiot,” Hoon said, unflinching.

“Are you insane?” you snapped. “Who gives a damn about points?! He’s in danger—we have to save him!”

Hoon scoffed. “Of course. Let’s reward stupidity, as usual.”

But despite the words, he raised his wand. “Fulgari!”

The spell’s glowing tendrils wrapped around one of the heads… but the creature reacted by tightening its body around the boy, who screamed, voice cracking: 'I don’t want to die! Help! Please!'

One of the heads lunged at you both, growling. You raised your wand, ready to fight. But Hoon stopped you with a hand against your chest.

“Go. Now. I’ll distract it.”

“Not a chance,” you growled back. But he didn’t listen.

“Expulso!” he shouted.

The creature staggered, and for a moment, it looked like it might retreat. But then… another head burst from the black mass of its back, snarling with rage, its red eyes locked solely on the two of you.

The snow seemed to freeze in midair.

You and Hoon exchanged a look. He was tense, sweating despite the cold, but his voice was steady.

"Hope you studied, Slytherin. Because this time… we need real magic.”

'Use a Patronus!' the boy cried out, tears streaking his face, voice broken.

You and Hoon exchanged a quick, tense look. The monster’s heads screeched and writhed around each other like frenzied snakes. The snow was falling heavier now, mixed with hail. The cold clung to your eyelashes.

“It’s too dangerous for you! We wouldn’t even manage a moth,” Hoon hissed, eyes locked on the creature.

But without thinking, you stepped forward, raising your wand with both hands. “Expecto Patronum!” … Nothing. Just wind. Your voice vanished into the void.

Panic tightened in your throat. But you shut your eyes. You searched for something. A thought. An emotion. And there it was—Hoon, back in class, defending you in front of everyone, unafraid of judgment. That moment when you realized that behind all the sarcasm and coldness, there was something more. He didn’t just see you as the loud, brazen Slytherin. He saw a girl who felt things. Who had her own fragilities.

“Expecto Patronum!” you shouted again, heart pounding like a drum.

A light ignited. Green and blue. It pulsed. Boiled. And then it burst.

From the snow and the glow, a shining, majestic serpent and a proud-eyed raven rose into the dark sky, spiraling together in a whirl of colored snow. They danced around the monster, striking. Its roar faded into a high-pitched screech—then silence. Gone. Only the ragged breathing of the boy remained.

You turned. Hoon was staring at you, mouth slightly open, eyes wide in disbelief, his lips caught between sarcasm and admiration.

“Don’t comment,” you panted, throwing him a look. And for once—he didn’t.

You rushed to the boy and wrapped him in your arms, trying to give him all the warmth you no longer had.

'I’m cold… but… your Patronus was beautiful,' he whispered, wide-eyed. “Thank you, little Gryffindor,” you murmured. “You made it too.”

A second later, a flash of light— And the Headmaster appeared before you with a sharp snap, his cloak rippling from residual magic.

-Incredible,- he said, looking at you and Hoon. -A joint Patronus. Haven’t seen one in… decades. Well done, both of you.- Then, turning to the boy with a sterner tone: -You risked your life tonight. From now on, you stay away from any path with trees. Understood?-

When you tried to Side-Apparate with the others, your wand trembled in your hand. Nothing. No effect.

“Perfect,” you muttered.

“You burned through too much energy,” Hoon said—without sarcasm, for once. “You’re insane. Don’t bother. Come with us.”

“No, you go with the Headmaster. I’ll… take a broom. Or walk. I’ll be fine.”

“Walk? With that thing still out there?” he growled. “Do you have blood in your brain or just snow?”

The Headmaster, calm as ever, raised a hand. -You’ll rest here. The Forest owes you something, tonight.-

And from the white trees, a small wooden cottage appeared—steep roof, chimney already smoking. A soft, golden light glowed from its windows.

You and Hoon looked at each other for a moment, then— You ran. Side by side. No words. Just warmth. Into that safe little pause in the world.

As soon as the door shut behind you, the sound of the storm vanished. The little cottage felt suspended in time: warm wooden walls, a thick rug laid out before a crackling fireplace, a bench stacked with folded blankets, and a faint scent of tea and oak in the air.

You pulled off your cloak, hands slightly trembling. Hoon did the same, silent, shaking the snow from his hair. He glanced at you and ran a hand down his face, like he still couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Then he burst out: “Are you completely insane? You just… cast a Patronus. A joint one, at that.”

“Yeah, and I also saved your ass, the kid’s, and mine. A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t kill you,” you shot back, crossing your arms, challenging glare locked on him.

He laughed—short, sharp, but not cruel. “You know that trying to cast it without being sure it would work could’ve knocked you out—or worse, right? But of course, the Slytherin princess had to shine.”

“Shine?” you scoffed. “Right, sorry—next time I’ll let you play the misunderstood hero while I blend into the damn wallpaper.”

Hoon eyed you, dark gaze narrowing with that look you knew all too well. He was about to pounce. And he did.

“That Patronus though. Green and blue? A serpent and a raven?” He paused, then added with that pointed tone: “So… what are we saying? A blend of you and me? Tragic. Romantic. Arrogant.”

“It wasn’t a blend,” you huffed. “It was just… powerful. You had nothing to do with it.”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling in that infuriating way only he could—sharp, precise, lethal. “Oh really? Shame. It looked… kind of intimate. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell me something?”

“Yeah. That you’re a loser,” you muttered, stepping toward him with venom in your voice.

“Says the girl who grabbed my wrist in the snow like I was her favorite comfort blanket.”

“That was so you wouldn’t die, you idiot.”

“Admit it. You like making me worry.”

You rolled your eyes with a groan, but didn’t notice he’d already closed the gap between you. In a second, he pushed you—gently but firmly—against the wall, one hand at your waist, the other brushing your cheek, caught between provocation and something rawer.

Your heart slammed in your chest. The fireplace’s heat. His breath on your skin.

“You’re unbearable,” you whispered.

“Right back at you,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours.

And without giving you time to reply—he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It was a collision. All teeth, shallow breath, and desperate hands.

His body pressed hard against yours, your back against the wall, the world outside drowned out by everything you’d never said.

Sunghoon kissed you like he’d been waiting forever.

It wasn’t sweet. It was real. Raw.

You responded instantly, hands gripping the fabric of his cloak, pulling him closer with a force you didn’t even know you had.

He moved you back—toward the cottage’s small kitchen table. In a flash, you were sitting on top of it, the surface cold beneath you, his body warm and solid between your legs. He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth, and you let out a soft, broken moan, stolen right from your lungs.

His hands were everywhere—warm, certain—and when he gently bit your lower lip, a moan escaped you, more a hoarse whisper than an actual sound.

“Oh, look who’s moaning now,” he murmured against your mouth, wearing that arrogant smirk you knew all too well.

“Shut up, Park,” you shot back in a low, loaded voice. “I’m not in the mood for your games.”

You grabbed his thick cloak and tossed it to the floor, your lips finding his again—hungry, desperate. There was no space for anything else. Just hands, bodies, breath.

Your fingers slipped beneath his heavy sweater, brushing over his warm, flawless skin. “This needs to go,” you whispered, voice low and shameless.

“You can,” he replied, but his eyes held that familiar flicker—somewhere between surrender and craving.

You pulled it up by the hem, slowly, savoring every inch you uncovered. And as you did, your eyes dared him. “How many times have you dreamed of this, huh?”

He let out a low growl. “Shut up.”

You chuckled, pleased. You peeled off his second layer too, leaving him in nothing but a fitted black tank top that clung to his pale skin and highlighted the sculpted shape of his arms.

“Spread your legs,” he said, in that deep, rough voice that made your insides tremble.

You obeyed. And he moved in, closer, more real. His body pressed against yours, the difference in height only adding to the tension, thrilling and undeniable. You tilted him toward you slightly, your hands locking around the back of his neck with quiet insistence.

You started kissing him there, just below his ear, then down along his jawline. Your lips found the curve of his neck—hot, eager—and you sucked, leaving a mark.

Sunghoon let out a soft moan, low and involuntary. “Merlin... Y/n...”

“What?” you whispered against his skin, with a wicked smile. “Can’t handle a little real human contact?”

He opened his eyes, trying to stay composed. But you could see it, feel it—every word, every touch, you were pulling him apart piece by piece.

“I hate you,” he murmured again, but his voice shook.

“Oh yeah? Then come and prove it.”

His hands dove into the edges of your coat, and with one swift movement, he slipped it off your shoulders. His eyes stayed locked on yours, but when his hands slid under your Slytherin sweatshirt, his gaze darkened—sharpened. He yanked it off with a single pull, leaving you in nothing but that fitted emerald-green tank top… the one that seemed designed to tempt him.

"Slytherin to the last layer?"he provoked you, a raised eyebrow and dangerously low tone. "Even panties?" "Maybe," you replied with a sassy smile. "But if you want to know, you'll have to find out for yourself." He looked at you as if you were playing with fire — and maybe it was true. But he did not back down. "You really are a little nightmare dressed in silk," he hissed, still approaching. He leaned over you and his lips came back to your neck, this time slower, hungrier. He sucked it, nibbled it, as if he wanted to brand you. And when a groan escaped from your lips and your fingers caught in his hair, he came off for a moment, his eyes lit with a brazen desire.

"Tomorrow you will have purple marks everywhere, princess," he whispered, her voice hoarse. "We are magicians, Park. I'll hide them in two seconds."

"Don't you dare even think about it," he retorted in a darker, more possessive tone. "I want them to see each other. I want everyone to know exactly where I kissed you and that you are mine, my little viper." And he returned to your neck, sinking with a new determination, as if thirsty. He sucked your skin as if it were nectar, as if every inch had a spell just for him. Your groans filled the room, broken only by the sound of your heavy breaths.

Then he lowered himself, slowly, and his eyes rested on your chest. The tank top had lifted, allowing a glimpse of the soft curves that the bra, a little too tight, was trying to contain. His lips rested light above the cups, and he kissed you with an unexpected, almost adoring sweetness.

"Can I take it off?" he murmured, his forehead against your chest. "You can," he whispered, his voice broken with desire. His hands barely shook as he grabbed the hem of his tank top. He slowly took off your tank top, and his eyes darkened as he looked at you. His hands, still cold from the frost outside, slipped under your bra. He unfastened it with precision, and the moment he fell, your breasts were free, sensitive skin stretched by the air and attention of his eyes.

"Sensitive, huh?"he teased you, with a half-smile on his lips. You grabbed him by the collar of the tank top. "Bow down, Park. And suck.» He gave you a look that promised chaos. "You can just give me orders, huh?» Yet he obeyed. He leaned over, his hot lips touching one of your strained buds, then his tongue began to rub him flat. You felt yourself melt, a groan rolled out of you, broken. Then he just used his teeth, and your body strained.

"Hoon!"you screamed, his name rolled out of his lips like an escaped spell. "Always so responsive?"he teased you, his voice hoarse while with his other hand he drew you to himself even more. His hand closed on the other breast, with firm, hungry movements. "You're meant to be touched like that, you know?"he muttered, kissing and nibbling. "So soft. So ... mine."

"Don't say these things," you admonished him, trying to control you, but it was useless. His lips, his hands, were erasing all logic.

It came to you instinctively — you stuck a hand under his black tank top and pulled it up. He just came off your breast, a trickle of spittle shining on his lips. Your eyes rested on his toned, pale, almost unrealistically defined chest. You bit your lip, unable to hold back that little gesture. "You haven't seen anything yet, witch," he whispered, before stooping back, your bodies now closer together, your breasts brushing against his bare chest. They both groaned softly upon contact. "When I saw you in the prefects pool..." you whispered, " I wanted to jump on you." He looked up at you, surprised but amused. "And why didn't you?" You shrugged your shoulders with feigned innocence. "Maybe I wanted to make you suffer a little." "Cursed..." he growled quietly, and returned to kiss your breasts with even more desire, as if the confession had ignited something in him.

He continued to tease you, his mouth soft and careful on your breasts, until his lips began to descend slowly along your belly. Every kiss was like a spark that ignited you all, and you moaned, unable to hold back. "So receptive..." he muttered with a grin, his voice deep and hoarse. "Typical spoiled little princess."

"Don't let a Ravenclaw command me," you replied, lifting yourself up and looking him straight in the eye. "Not even if he has a language like yours." He laughed slowly, but in his eyes there was a new hunger. And you, with an instinctive move, unfastened his belt. His eyes just smiled as you did it. The pants slid down with a rustle, and you whistled softly at the sight of the black boer

"I thought you were more shy," he whispered. "And I thought you were less ... gifted," he retorted, touching it through the fabric. You felt him tense, hard. And you looked at him with a satisfied smile. "It's a pity that he always remains a poor Ravenclaw loser." He clenched his jaw, his eyes turned on.

"Watch how you speak, Y/n" But you still approached, his hands on yours even as yours drew him more forcefully to you. His forehead leaned against yours, and for a moment there was only silence, only breath. Then, slowly, with curious and determined fingers, you stuck your hand under the edge of his boxer. You felt his erection, the way his body reacted, the warm and alive skin under your hand.

"You're really ruined, Park." He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched, holding back a groan. "And I bet you're bad, too. It would take a hand of mine in your jeans you’d be wet" You admonished him with a smirk, but you tightened your grip a little, enough to make him moan — a deep, almost broken sound. "... little viper..." he muttered, his voice a thin thread between pleasure and torment. You giggled, dropping his boxer

"I don't think I'll last long..." he confessed with a restrained growl. You got even closer, your voice a whisper in your ear. "Then do it. Show me how much I ruin you." sunghoon was literally ruined. What he had dreamed of for months-perhaps since you launched your first poisonous joke in the Prefects ' corridor-was now real. And with your hand moving slowly against his cock, he could no longer think.

He slightly grabbed your shoulder, looking for an anchor point to reality. Hi voice trembled. "Y/n....i'm coming.."

"I know," you whispered with a devilish grin, accelerating the pace and barely squeezing. He sprinted forward, a restrained groan that became a growl. "You're a little viper."

"And this viper is making you look like a loser, Park." It was the end. One last, hoarse moan and yelled your name, your head bent back, your body contracted. His forehead leaned against your shoulder as he barely trembled, his breath broken.

His abdomen, the clear line of the V, was marked by the pleasure you had just caused, little pearly and slimy filaments ripped through his shiny abs and then he bent over, still panting, and whispered something in your ear — sweet words, but laden with desire, broken by his own astonishment. They made you vibrate inside. You, without saying anything, picked up with a finger the most noticeable trace of his sperm and, looking straight into his eyes, slowly brought it to your mouth. You sucked it with malice. "You are sweet, "you said," but slightly salty."

"You're sick," he muttered, halfway between the amused and the ruined. "And you're in love," you replied, laughing, gracefully stepping down from the table. You took him by the wrist, with your usual Slytherin confidence, and dragged him to the bed in the middle of the little house in the woods. "The principal really created a work of art. Ideal for couples to do smutty things."

He chuckled, but upon hearing the word couples, his heart skipped a beat. You didn't realize it — or maybe you did, but you didn't say it. You let yourself fall between the pillows with a naturalness that would make even a Veela pale. Your breasts moved slightly as you settled down. You looked at him with feigned impatience. "And you? What are you doing standing there?" Sunghoon shook his head, a smirk on his lips, still stunned by you. "You are impossible."

"And yet you are still here." He moved, climbed over you, with almost reverent slowness, and for a moment there was no more bickering, no game, no war. Just him and you, skin to skin. Sunghoon's dark tufts fell untidy on his forehead, damp with sweat and desire. You extended a hand, touching his cheek with your fingers, soft and slow, as if you were trying to memorize every line of his face. Your eyes were half-closed, loaded with something beyond provocation: a shred of vulnerability that you almost never showed.

He paused for a moment to look at you-as if he could not believe that you were really there, under him. Then, with that cheeky half-smile you knew all too well, he began to descend again, kissing every inch of your skin. When he got to the edge of your pants, he said nothing. Only the metallic sound of the zipper sliding down spoke for him. He whistled softly. "Fiery red panties, huh?"he said, raising an eyebrow. "And then you accuse me of being a pervert."

"Shut your mouth, Park," you admonished him, trying to sound superior. But your tone trembled a little.

"Open your legs."

"No."

His eyes became darker. "Stubborn to the last. Classic from Slytherin." And without waiting, with glacial calm and strong fingers, he opened them to you. His big hands wrapped around your thighs, slowly pushing them outward as you cast a poisonous glance at him. "I knew," he muttered.

"The whole scene." Then he lowered his head and began to kiss the skin of your inner thigh. Soft, quick bites marked his path, igniting every nerve beneath the surface. Every now and then he would stop and look at you from under his eyelashes, as if studying your reactions like an ancient spell. And when he got to the center of you, he said nothing. Just one kiss, one, full, slow. A groan escaped from your lips before you could stop it, and your back involuntarily arched. Sunghoon stopped, satisfied.

"And tell me now," he whispered against your skin, in a hoarse voice, "who is the loser, princess?" His fingers grazed the thin cloth, finding you exactly as he expected. He looked at you defiantly and triumphantly.

"Completely wet. For me." Then he bent over again, and your eyes lost all focus — you could only see his dark hair, his head between your thighs, and you could only feel the slow, firm pace with which he was tasting you like you were the only thing in the world. Your breath broke, a groan rose from your bowels, and his name escaped you like a prayer and a curse. "Hoon…" His tongue was a forbidden temptation. Every movement, precise and darn slow, made you falter as if a spell ran under your skin. He drew little eights with his tip, as if he wanted to draw your name on him-and you, with your lips ajar, groaned quietly, babbling his name like a supplication.

"H-Hoon ... what... what are you—"

"Shut up, viper," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and sharp. "I've never heard you so... true." And without warning, he slid a finger into you. A slow, exploratory motion that made you arch your back against the pillows. Your body reacted before you could even fight back.

"Park, I -" you tried to admonish him, but it was useless. He smiled, looking up just a second, his eyes lit up by something wild. And then, with a bold gesture, he brushed your center with his teeth. A light bite, calibrated. But it was enough to make you completely lose control. You screamed his name, fingers intertwined in his hair, looking for a foothold in reality.

"I bet you can get another one, right?"he whispered with a mischievous note. "Show me how good you really are."

"Yes..." you answered, in a broken voice. The second finger joined the first, and began to move with increasing pace. His eyes peered at you, hungry, and when you moaned louder, lips ajar and body trembling, he giggled. "Who is more beautiful, princess? Me ... or my fingers ruining you?» You bit your lip, not wanting to answer. Slytherin pride was hard to bend, even now. And he stopped. He left you there, suspended, a moment from the abyss. "No ... continue, Park!" He degraded you, in a low, provocative tone, but his gaze barely trembled. And when you gasped: "You are beautiful. And ... good at everything,"

he smiled for real, with a flash of triumph and a shadow of sweetness in his eyes. "I know," he replied. But his tone, this time, was less cold. More sincere. Almost amazed. "And you ... are my worst spell." His touch was fire. Every movement of his fingers inside you sent you into orbit, and despite the severed breath, you could not hold back the words. You yelled his name like it was the only spell that could keep you alive. Your hands were now lost in her hair, pulling them with force with every wave of pleasure that passed through you. He didn't stop. In fact, he seemed hungrier, more determined. He looked at you with those icy eyes that were now burning, and his voice, hoarse and confident, stuck in you.

"Come for me, Y / n ... I want to see you collapse. I want to know that no one can make you feel that way. Nobody but me." His words were the spark. Your body strained, the pleasure exploded like a liberated curse, and you let yourself go completely — trembling against his mouth and fingers. He did not look away even a moment, as if he wanted to stamp that moment in focus in the mind. When he stood up, he had the look of someone who has just won a war. He kissed you slowly, forcefully.

He gnawed at your lip as if he still wanted to taste you. "You know too much good," he muttered against your mouth, and the tone had something dangerously sweet. You barely moved, rubbing against him — your body still shaken, but eager for more. You felt his cock against you, still encased in his boer Your eyes rested on him and, in a bold and mischievous tone, you teased him: "All this ... because of a Slytherin." Sunghoon threw a fierce look at you, jaws clenched.

"Shut up." But you laughed slowly, enjoying the tension you had ignited. You pushed your hips against him and his breath broke. His body reacted instinctively, as if it had been enchanted by you all along. "Do you really want it?"he whispered, in a voice so low that it almost sounded like a threat. "Because if I sink into you now... there will be nothing left to hide. I'll take everything."

You looked at him, his pupils dilated, his heart in his throat. "Then do it, Ravenclaw. Take."

The only thing you really felt was him. Hoon. Every inch of his body pressed against yours, and every slow but deep push made you gasp, scratch, seek more contact, more friction. More than him. "Look how you take me..."he hissed at your throat, biting your skin as if he wanted to leave his signature there, indelible. "So tight, so wet. Is that what you want? To be used by me as a good, dirty Slytherin?"

"Yes..." you moaned, your voice almost broken with pleasure. "Yes, Hoon, please..." He lifted your leg, bending it against his side with controlled force, and sank back into you with a jerk that made you scream, your head falling backwards against the wall.

"Well" Another push, deeper.

"Do you feel how full your fucking pussy is?" Another one.

"You like it, don't you? Being fucked by one who treats you like a spoiled princess."

"I am..." you stammered, unable to lie. "My Slytherin princess version slut," he growled, grabbing your chin to make you look him in the eye. Cold eyes, precise. Calculator. But now, they were just burning for you.

"I bet you dream of being bent over a bench in empty classrooms. To enjoy me in the aisles while you're still wearing that damn green tie." Every word was a slap to your pride, but instead of breaking you, it made you shiver more. "Do you like it when I tell you that you are worth nothing but to be fucked? That behind that queen face of yours is only you, hot, trembling, hungry for me?"

"Yes ... Yes, Merlin, Hoon ... make me yours..." He pushed you even harder, making you moan louder and louder. One hand on your throat, to squeeze slightly, while the other crept between your bodies to touch you. Two experienced, cruel fingers brushed the spot where you were most sensitive, and you screamed without restraint. "Hear how you scream..." he hissed, excitedly. "I bet the owls in the woods are wondering who is the little slut who is taking me so well."

"Only you ..." you moaned. "Only you make me like this..."

"Damn, Y/n, you're made for this," he grunted, his thrusts faster and faster. "To be taken like this. Destroyed so. From me. From a Ravenclaw who never believed in anything but control. Look what you got me to do." Hoon's blows became fiercer, his breath more labored, and you could no longer hold back. The pleasure mounted inside you like a storm, and the scream escaped from your lips before you could even control it. "Hoon-I'm ... I'm going to—"

"Come for me." His voice was a hoarse order, full of lust and domination. "Make a mess. Dirty all this bed, so the headmaster is an idiot if he thought that leaving us alone in this little house would not lead to this." He smiled, kissing you hard as he continued to push into you with measured brutality.

"A bed, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen..." he laughed, panting ,"...like I didn't want to fuck you on all surfaces." It was at that moment that you screamed his name, trembling as the orgasm overwhelmed you with a power that emptied your breath. Your body clasped around his, and your legs snapped like traps around his waist. But he did not stop. Not yet.

"Look how tight you are ... still," he hissed, his voice now broken by the pleasure that approached even for him. "I make you mine, for real now. I want you full. Full of my cock and cum, you little snake."

"Hoon... no - not inside..."

"Shut up." His voice became dark, dirty with desire. "You are mine. And I want to fill you. Until you drip on everything you touch." He took you with deep, raw blows, until his breath broke against your skin. And then, he came. Hot, heavy, inside you. You felt his body shake against yours, his fingers clasping your hips as if he wanted to carve you into the flesh. His cum trickled slowly down your thighs, as you both gasped in the dark load of moans and sweat. He came off slowly, with his last breath still against your chest, then dragged you with him to the bed still disheveled. He grabbed you by the side and pulled you against his chest, sinking his face into your neck, as if that contact held him anchored to reality.

One of his hands lazily moved towards your face, long thin fingers caressing your cheek still reddened. You, still half distraught with pleasure, let yourself go on his chest, setting your head against his. "Little viper..."he whispered with a tired smile. "I don't know if I want to strangle you or marry you."

"I hate you..." you murmured at him, a smirk on his lips.

"Mmh. Lie. You're obsessed with me." He gave you a slow kiss behind the ear.

"And you from me."

The next morning, the world outside the little house felt muffled. Snow was falling slowly, silently, and the crackling of the fireplace was the only sound filling the room. You woke up to the lingering scent of burning wood in the air and Hoon’s warm body wrapped around yours.

His bare skin against yours was a silent reminder of everything that had happened just a few hours earlier. His slow, steady breathing made his chest rise and fall gently, and you nestled against him a bit more, as if that simple movement could somehow let you stay there forever.

You lifted yourself slightly, carefully, trying not to wake him. You looked at him—really looked at him.

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, allowing you to take in every detail: the long lashes, the slightly parted lips, the faint crease between his brows. And then, his moles. The ones you had memorized long ago, like a secret map meant only for you.

Your hand moved on its own, without thinking. Your fingers brushed lightly over the small mole beneath his left eye. Then the one on the bridge of his nose, just above the curve. The tiny one on his cheek. And finally, the one beneath his ear, invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.

“Mmh…” he murmured sleepily, a half-groan in his throat. “Still tracing my moles? Haven’t you gotten tired of mapping my face like you’re trying to decode some ancient script?”

You smiled softly, not stopping your touch, and your eyes met his—still a bit drowsy, hazy from sleep.

“I’m just cataloging you, Ravenclaw… Don’t they serve some kind of purpose? Like little stars placed just right to be studied.”

“Studied, huh?” he chuckled, his voice rough and deep. “Or worshipped?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You rolled your eyes, but your gaze had softened more than you intended.

He stretched lazily, then moved closer, fingers tracing idle lines across your back.

“My viper’s going soft… should I be worried?”

“She’s just sleepy,” you murmured.

He gave a half-smile—the one he saved only for you. The one that said nice try, I see right through you. Then his voice dropped, a bit more serious now:

“Do you think that from now on, when you smell Amortentia, you’ll catch my scent?”

Your heart skipped a beat—subtle and sudden. You looked at him, your fingers drifting back to the mole beneath his eye.

“If I start smelling old books, wet moss, and… mint tea? Then I’ll know who to blame.”

He smiled again, this time more softly.

“And I’ll always smell that scent your skin carries after you’ve spent hours teasing me. The one that reeks of trouble.”

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