#aespa karina smut
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this looks too much like rina😭 i’m unwell
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DOWNRIGHT ICONIC (aespa karina)
(smut, male reader, screenwriter you, stranger karina, public sex, rough sex [choking/slapping/biting/spanking/hair-pulling etc], oral, anal, facefucking, titfucking, facial, bondage, degradation, name-calling, other weird stuff, 26k words, it's been 1 million years..., BUT WE'RE SO BACK BABY <3)
Hey, turns out the critics really are onto something:
You’re going to win an Oscar for this.
You aren’t surprised when the nominations are announced. It’s all anyone’s been talking about. You’re this up-and-coming screenwriter, this newly-minted visionary, and - cue the applause - you’ve just made the movie of the year. Clips go viral everywhere; the reviews are calling it extraordinary. They all want to know how you - a relative nobody - managed to pull it off. What’s your secret? What’s your inspiration? Where’d you get this billion-dollar box office idea?
And here’s one version of the truth:
“Well,” you’re quoted saying in every single interview: “honestly, it’s about a girl.”
Everyone eats this up, of course. It’s so fucking romantic.
You’ll tell an abridged version of this story for the rest of your life. A blip in time in early January - a certified slow-motion movie moment. You’ll say things like she was the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You’ll say things like, I know it sounds lame, but that’s how it went. She took my breath away. She fascinated me. I saw her and I don’t think my life has ever been the same.
You’ll never once say her name.
“It’s weird, actually,” you’ll say in an interview after the news of the nominations drops. “Making this movie about her. She’ll last forever there, you know? She’ll always exist in this film, in this one moment in time. She’s in all of it, basically - every scene, every line. It’s all her.”
“You make it sound like she’s dead,” the interviewer will say, all open-mouthed melodrama.
You’ll laugh. “Oh, God, no,” you’ll say. “She’s alive and well.” As if it hasn’t been years since you last saw her face, watching you from down the corridor, looking lost and torn apart and very, very small. “She’s okay. I mean - I think - yeah, she’s okay.”
As if you’d know.
Because here’s another version of the truth:
You’re going to win an Oscar for this. You’re going to stand up on that stage and thank your family and your friends. You’re going to stare at all those faces until they swim together into one golden, glittering blur, and then all you’ll see is her - her dark eyes, her glossy hair, her wrist in your grip, her throat between your fingers - her in your sheets, her smiling in your doorway, her shivering in your shower, her sobbing into her hands, her bleeding in your bed, her walking away. Her, her, her. Immortalized forever in this perfect thing you made, winning awards off the reconstruction of a memory. Art imitating life; reality warped into something magnificent, and beautiful, and better.
And the only thing you’ll feel like doing is throwing up.
Sure, you’ll bask for decades in the thrill of it: the fame, the fortune, the glory; the adoration, the worship, the attention; the eternal, endless love. You’ll be able to look back on your life when you’re decrepit on your deathbed and know that you - brilliant you, utterly superior you - were divinely blessed with earth-shattering success, and no one will ever be able to take that away from you. You made your mark. You meant something. You were the best, for fuck’s sake, and you have the accolades to prove it - you really, really were.
So here’s the full truth - the final bottom line:
You’re going to win an Oscar for this. You’ll live the kind of life people beg God for. You’ll get everything you ever wanted.
It won’t be worth it at all.
-
First, though, there’s this.
-
Disturbingly enough, you’re in the romance section of a bookstore when everything starts.
This is really not your genre - that’s the funniest part. Historically, you’re bored to death by the cartoonish pastel covers; you don’t get your kicks from seeing the same delightfully quirky heroines fall for brooding bad boys, or whatever the fuck goes on in those books. You have your standards. You prefer your art a little gritty, a little fucked up, a little more interesting - the kind of thing that can leave you shellshocked in a movie theater, overcome with the sort of full-body, lightning-struck epiphany only truly good work can manage. It’s not a judgment call - you’re not trying to be pretentious. It’s just that you prefer something with some fucking bite.
The second funniest part is this:
You’re pressed against the shelves, surrounded by the cutest, chastest love stories ever told-
“Are you serious?”
-and Karina’s on her knees, about to take your cock down her throat.
Maybe this is what your contemporaries call cinematic irony.
That’s gotta be the only phrase for it, really. The scene itself dripping with classless, crude, erotic filth - the way she ducks her chin to spit on her hand, the slow pump of her fist around you, the rough hum in her mouth at how achingly hard you are - nasty and irredeemable, too fast and too loud. The gross lack of subtlety in her sex appeal: all pale thighs and porn-star tits, the wet pink flash of tongue. Seductive in a way that screams at you. It’d be so easy to write this off as some deliberately controversial opening scene, gory shock value, horror-film suspense - starring you and the slut you’re about to ravage and ruin and potentially leave for dead.
“Baby - are you sure?”
It’d be so easy, if Karina didn’t look like an angel incarnate.
“I mean, you-” You’re stammering. You’ve got both hands in her hair, fingers sliding through the glossy black in petting, soothing motions - your clumsy attempt at reassurance. “You don’t have to, if you don’t - we’re in public - I’m not expecting you to - I don’t need it-”
Karina’s fine, sculpted eyebrows twitch upwards. Her lips are a twist of scarlet, distinct and amused. She doesn’t quite smirk, doesn’t give a voice to the sarcasm, but the sentiment is the same - yeah, right.
And then she lowers her mouth to lick.
“Jesus fucking Christ-”
Scratch that, then. This is the funniest part. The most inhumanly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, debasing herself in public like some sort of desperate common whore - come on, bring in the laugh track.
Not that anyone’s laughing now.
You’re no poet - they’re a few sections over, Plath and Yeats and Dickinson - but Karina’s the kind of thing that makes you understand the motivation completely: only capable of being captured in metaphor, without context, painstakingly interpreted hundreds of years from now by people who will never get this right. All carved-out cheekbones, fluttering lashes; tight fuckable body clad in a little low-cut dress, feet tucked neatly behind her like she’s simulating worship. Dirty and religiously devoted in how she stretches her full glossed lips around your cock and lets your grip tangle in her hair and-
“Karina,” you get out, but her only response is to blink sweetly up at you and suck.
Well, who gives a shit about the poets, anyway? You doubt any of them ever got to fuck a mouth like this.
There’s an unfamiliar caution to the rut of your hips, a wincing fascination every time she gags - and she gags loud, choking and heaving, saliva dripping slick around you and down her chin - that seems to both entertain and confuse Karina. A skeptical crease in her forehead, saying everything she can’t: you don’t wanna fuck me up? Ruin me? Cloudy spit falling in strands to her tits, seeping into the crimson fabric of her dress; she’s wearing a worn black sweatshirt that’s slipping off one shoulder, exposing the clean line of her collarbone. The hollow of her cheeks, the obscene painful sound of your cock clogging her throat - it’s subtext, explicit suggestion. A preternatural understanding. I know what this is. I know what you want from me.
Which - she couldn’t possibly.
“Baby.” You sound so wretched that it’s humiliating. Karina’s sharply lined eyes seem to flash with humor, smug and lazily self-satisfied. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.”
The thick, sloppy, choked noise she makes is the closest she’s gonna get to a laugh.
Oh, sure, whatever, it’s not like you’re not thinking about it: digging your fingertips into her scalp and really fucking her face, relishing in the way those eyes would go wide and glassy with unshed tears; refusing to let her have control, to let her lick and lap and breathe. You’re scripting it in your head already. You’d strip her bare and make her sob. You’d wreck her throat and cum all over her face and force her to walk out like that: coated in the sticky, filthy evidence of everything you’ve made her - look at this, you’d say, look at what I have. Look at what I did - all this, all me.
“God.” Your thumb braces against Karina’s temple, like the gentle stroke of a brush, like you’re painting her right into existence. “You’re just-” A harsh gag; a fall of dirty, drooling spit. “You’re really enjoying this, huh? Getting on your knees in public for a fucking stranger?”
That’s why the fantasy of fucking her into brutal submission is actually so understandable. You don’t know her. You don’t owe her shit. You could destroy her and it’s not like she could do anything to fight back - not when she’s already below you, looking up. When she asked for this.
Except-
“Karina.” You can’t stop saying her name. “You’re - fucking perfect.”
And it’s true.
So you cum.
Karina swallows it all with the same amount of sultry grace she seems to do everything - how she laughs and walks and talks and takes your cock like a fucking professional - languishing in the practiced bob of her throat, the preening flicker of her eyelids, her face shiny and pale. It tugs the same feeling out of you as a flawless shot in a film, a well-timed bit of dialogue: watching an expert at work, pulling out all their stops. One hand through her hair. Her nails the same rich color as her mouth and her dress. Nasty, slutty, impressive attention to detail - Christ, get this girl in front of a camera, get the moon to be her limelight - you’re breathless, you’re enthralled, you’re so fucking far gone.
Then: the sticky retreating glide of her pouty mouth, lipstick smeared badly down her chin, stark and arresting as blood.
“In my experience,” Karina says, finally, “being perfect’s never gotten me anywhere good.”
She pulls the sleeve of her sweatshirt up and wipes her face with her wrist.
“You’re unbelievable,” you say, dizzy.
“Thank you,” Karina says, sweet like she means it, and sits back on her heels.
You can’t help yourself; you’re petting back her hair again, cupping her face softly in your hand, caught on the dark glint of her irises. Angel was an understatement. She looks more than that - looks like something holy and all-powerful, something omniscient and blindingly beautiful, something who knows exactly what you need and knows exactly how to follow through. Something worthy of mythology. Something like a god.
And any sort of rough, ruthless, fucked-up fantasy - it’s never going to happen.
You just can’t ruin a girl like her.
“So?” Karina’s voice is a smoky bombshell lilt, like she’s just stepped out of some film noir from the 1950s. Hands folded primly in her lap, fingers interlocked like a lady. She could be a pop culture icon, an eternal sex symbol - a Marilyn, a Bond girl, a timeless universal beauty. “What now?”
You think your brain actually short-circuits. “Sorry?”
Head tilted, lids dropped low. Smirk still sharp and scarlet. “Are you gonna take me home?”
You open your mouth to respond, but then a customer walks by the aisle.
You’re a panicked flurry of motion - zipping up your pants, turning away, frantically patting down your clothes - but Karina just stays kneeling on the floor, little chin on an incline, utterly incriminating. It doesn’t matter. The customer passes you by. The world returns to the way it should be: just the two of you.
“Karina,” you say, flabbergasted by her composure.
Karina’s lips quirk. “What?”
You shake your head and offer your hand to help her up, but Karina laughs instead - actually laughs. It’s peculiar, beautiful: raspy like a chronic chainsmoker, as though there’s something foreign she’s trying to dislodge. The raw, gravelly aftermath of a skinned knee, a grisly scrape over skin.
“Wow,” she says, and stands all on her own, tugs the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her fingers. “That’s a yes to taking me home, then?”
“What are you doing?” You’re laughing too - you can’t help it - reaching for Karina’s tiny waist to pull her in. “What are you - what do you want?”
When Karina smiles, it seems to set her eyes aflame. Bright and dancing, lashes like a shroud of smoke. “What do you mean?”
“You just met me.” It sounds feeble, somehow: a thin, useless excuse. Nothing against the way her body slots between your hands, a smooth effortless fit; nothing compared to how she kisses you between sentences, so quick and easy it already feels like a habit. “You don’t - you don’t know me.”
Karina’s mouth puckers, coy. “No?”
“No,” you shoot back, grinning, but it doesn’t sound convincing at all. “Come on, baby, seriously. What do you want?”
There’s gotta be some motive, you’re thinking. There’s gotta be a reason. Karina is so still, so soft and pliant under your hands, all the carved porcelain perfection of a marble sculpture but with none of the cold stiffness. Spine curving under your fingertips, jaw tilting into your touch.
A complete stranger, maybe - but every part of her body is begging to be known.
“Don’t you get it?” Karina says. “I want whatever you want.”
It’s so simple and earnest it takes your breath away.
“I - Jesus.” You’re biting on the inside of your cheek, drinking her in. “What if I told you I don’t know what I want?”
Another rasp of a laugh, sound like the serrated edge of a blade. “I’d say fine, okay.” Karina’s voice is low, conspiratorial. “But I’d think you’re lying.”
And here’s the thing you know for sure:
The very second you saw Karina you swear you saw the next hundred pages of a manuscript unfurling in front of you, lines and themes and gorgeous dark-eyed heroines, tragically beautiful endings and stunning cinematography - infinite narratives in the glossy sweep of her hair, in the seductive stretch of her legs, in the way she looked at you in a crowded room and smiled a lovely, secret smile and told you she’d follow you anywhere. She’s worth making art about. She’s worth devoting lifetimes to. The most honest thing you could say to her right now is baby, I’m writing a movie about this one day, and I think you’re really gonna like it.
Karina couldn’t possibly know any of this, but it still feels like she does - impractical knowledge in how she loops one arm around your neck and kisses you again, no hesitation. Like she actually knows you.
“I want to fuck you,” you murmur against her mouth, because it’s the next most honest thing. “Is that enough for you?”
You’re a screenwriter. You know your horror movies. A small part of you recognizes that this is precisely how they start: fanged vampires, wicked succubi, femme fatales out for blood. Karina’s so gorgeous she can’t be human - teeth so sharp there’s no way her intentions are pure.
“Sure,” Karina says, smirk glimmering like starlight. “Then I want that, too.”
It’s a murder plot waiting to happen.
You take her home anyway.
-
(Oh, and about your Oscar-winning script-
In theory, this is how it begins.
It’s classic. There’s a stranger and there’s a beautiful girl and they’re both sitting at a bar, talking for the very first time. The girl has a rose tucked behind her ear; it matches the crimson color of her lipstick perfectly. The stranger had asked her what the deal with it was, but she’d said something vague and nonsensical about it being a gift, so now they’re talking about normal, average things. Jobs, names, flirtatious pickup lines. It’s obvious because it’s meant to be, like a set-up to some predictable porn - everyone watching knows they’re going to fuck.
She keeps getting closer to him. At one point he thinks she’s going in for a kiss.
Instead, all she does is pluck the rose from behind her ear, and hand it to him.
It’s okay, she says. No thorns.
He stares at the rich furled petals and the whittled-down stem.
Thanks, he says, amused, charmed. He thinks there’s something odd about her. He likes it, though; if she were as beautiful as she is - which is very beautiful, exquisitely fucking beautiful - and she behaved like most people do, he’d find her terribly boring.
He takes it from her. Turns over the rose in his hands absentmindedly as she keeps talking. She’s got all this hair: wild and glossy black, pouring over her thin shoulders, her ribs, her tiny waist. After a moment he feels the sharp prick of a thorn against his fingertip and releases the rose in surprise.
You said there weren’t thorns, he tells her, laughing. Ow.
Whoops, she says. Then: Did it get me too?
She turns her head, pulls her hair out of the way. There’s a scarlet bead of blood trickling down the side of her perfect pale neck. He can’t quite tell where the point of entry was, where the thorn had dug in and broken skin. It’s bleeding a bit too heavily. Covering its tracks.
She swivels, slightly. She sees the look on his face. Is it bad? she asks.
No, he says, though he can’t really tell. But - couldn’t you feel it, though? The thorn?
The girl presses her hand to the side of her throat. It comes back bloodstained, a neat smear of red along the lifeline of her palm.
No, she echoes, though this can’t possibly be true. Hey, you wanna get out of here or something?
Alright, he says, smiling. They both stand. They leave the rose where it is. Let’s go.
He cups her cheek instead of her neck when he kisses her for the first time, so he doesn’t have her blood on his hands.
It starts simple like that.)
-
Karina’s so out of place in your apartment that it’s almost laughable - or it would be, if you were capable of thinking about anything but her mouth and her hands and her tits crushed up against your chest as you pin her to the doorframe. She keeps making these little sounds into your mouth: low and throaty, almost agonized. You swallow all her moans off her lips - oh, baby, you’re okay - and you only kiss her harder. She doesn’t belong, among your carpet worn-down from pacing and your laptop still open and idling and the mess of incoherent colorful post-it notes pasted to your fridge. She doesn’t fit here. Here kissing your mouth, here in your arms, here on fucking earth with the rest of you heathens-
“You wanna fuck me so bad,” murmurs Karina, chin on an incline, staring up at you, “then do it already.”
She doesn’t squirm or fidget; she doesn’t get needy or start begging. She stays pinned down by your body, lips parted, and stands completely still.
It’s like she’s telling you to make your move. Waiting for something inevitable.
“What happened to patience?” you say, anyway.
Karina’s mouth curls. She palms your cock through your pants. “What the fuck is that?”
You try to laugh, breathless and turned on, but all she does is kiss you again.
You’re a creative - you’re ready to attribute meaning to every movement - but there’s nothing so profound about it when you get Karina on your bed, all that thick black hair fanned out on your sheets, her hands grasping to get your shirt off - off, she murmurs, off. Even that comes out measured. She never shakes. She’s so sure. You kiss her everywhere you can reach, her face and her neck and her collarbone and her tits, drunk on the soft, humming sounds she makes when you do. You’re so fucking gorgeous, you can’t stop saying, and Karina keeps laughing that same raspy laugh, like it’s the most hilarious thing she’s ever heard.
“You told me you already know that, right?” You’ve got her face cupped in one of your hands and your other one at the neckline of her scarlet dress. “So what’s so funny?”
“Everything.” Her teeth glint the way fangs would, a deliberate trick of the light. She’d be villainous if she weren’t so content to be trapped underneath you. “All of it.” She presses her palm to the side of your neck. “You’re too nice.”
“Fuck.” Your thumb accidentally digs too hard into her cheek. She doesn’t wince, but you feel it - the stomach-turning thrill, the possibility of leaving a bruise. Your hand drops low - lower, down her throat and her tits and her flat midriff - and slips between her thighs, up her dress. It feels safer, somehow. “How do you manage to make the word nice sound like an insult?”
“It’s not,” she says, simply, and spreads her legs.
And it must not be - because Karina’s so wet.
She makes another low velvety sound when you first touch her, seems to melt into the stretch of your finger in her cunt - just one finger, and her back arches faintly, prettily, hips lifting to take more. “Jesus,” you mutter, but Karina’s not looking at you: her eyes are shut tight, lashes fluttering black, tits heaving in her dress with each draw of breath. You’ve fucked girls who’ve seemed unsure of themselves - embarrassed by their own wantonness, how wet they are, how bad they want it - but all Karina does is wrap her hand around your wrist and tug, once: a clear soundless plea for more.
For a second you’re actually, positively certain that you’ve lost it.
It’s abject fantasy. It can’t be real. You in your apartment with the dream girl - the personal Aphrodite - the muse; God, if anyone was ever made to be a fucking muse, it’s her - underneath you with her ridiculous tits and her tight little pussy, face like a Hollywood dream. Ludicrous. Impossible. Bucking as she tries to fuck herself deeper on your fingers, all the way to the knuckle - slowing down only to say you wanna fuck my cunt open with your big fat cock or what?
“I,” you try to say, strangled - her mouth’s so fucking filthy. “I was - I mean - we could take it slow-”
“How romantic,” says Karina - and this, too, sounds like a heinous insult coming from her - but she drags your wrist to her lips and sucks her own slick off your hand anyway.
You choke on your next breath. “Karina-”
She looks up at you, unflinching, tits half out of her dress and cunt dripping down her thighs. Lipstick worn-down, kissed-off. All over your mouth, or your throat, or your shirt. Mouth chapped from the cold and stained marvelously pink. There’s something in the way her smile forms slight and crooked every time you say her name, as if there’s some private joke you’re not in on.
“You’re such a gentleman,” Karina purrs, all syrupy-sweet condescension. Then: “You really don’t have to be.”
She licks the pad of your finger. She’s so completely shameless. You feel monstrous on top of her, in this sick, superior way, like she’s just too small to be so sopping wet and slutty and fuckable - too beautiful to be anything but treated just right.
“If you want me to fuck you like a whore, baby,” you tell her, half-joking, “then just say that.”
It’s a mistake the moment it leaves your mouth - a line crossed. Because all Karina does is cock her head, your wrist gripped delicately in her hand, her legs parted underneath you, and stares. Almost droll, bemused. Like you’re so goddamn predictable.
“Didn’t you hear me?” That perfect face sears right through you. You’d nearly fucked that face. Not quite. Not yet. “I want whatever you want.”
She’s even tinier than you originally thought she was. You only realize this now, tracing her stomach under your fingertips, feeling the sharp relief of each rib straining beneath her skin. You don’t know it until you touch her, but you can span the width of her thigh under one hand. It sends a strange shiver through you: mapping every jut of bone, every startling edge. She’s tiny. Breakable, practically. Men meaner than you have probably thrown her around, fucked her up against walls, used her like a toy.
“So,” says Karina. “What do you want?”
Your fist clenches tight in her grasp, right in front of her face, knuckles going horrifically white.
Like you - like you’re going to-
An accident. A primal sort of gesture, like you’re less than human, turned under her touch into some feral hot-blooded animal who can’t control itself: carnivorous, predatory. You stare at your own hand and then the sharp scythelike curve of her mouth and feel revolted embarrassment crawl straight up your spine.
It’s abhorrent.
It also doesn’t even seem to matter.
Karina doesn’t go wide-eyed and nervous; she doesn’t look at your wound fist like she’s scared of what it could do to her. She clicks her tongue, once. Like this, too, is something she already saw coming.
“I thought so,” she says, anyway. Maybe this is it, what does it for her; looking the devil full in the face and begging to be burned. “Then do it.”
“I can’t do that to you,” you mutter, but you tug her dress up, and you fuck her anyway.
-
She’s a stranger. This is the point of fucking strangers. To do things to them that you’d never do to anyone else - to take out your worst impulses and tell your best lies and know that none of it matters, in the end. Because they’re nobody, and because you’ll never see them again.
But you just can’t.
She’s too indulgent and stunning and soft, with her low moans and the addicting drenched heat of her cunt, hand gentle and careful on the nape of your neck so she can keep pulling you into a kiss. She’s made up of curves, delicate edges - those hips and those tits you can’t keep your hands off of and her lips in a dreamy smile - and you find yourself stroking her hair back from her face so you can drink it all in: the blush in her cheeks, the almost serene way she lets her eyes slip shut and her mouth drop open, slack and enticingly wet. So good, baby, you keep telling her, because she is, her entire body warm and wanting and so easily fucked open, little pussy swallowing your cock right up. She doesn’t fidget or plead. She’s so sweet, such a perfect fit, humming into your mouth as your cock eases her open; so wet you can hear it, the sloppy squelch of her cunt when you bottom out. Your voice comes out coaxing. You like that? That feel good? Taking my cock so nicely, huh?
“Mmm,” Karina breathes, in an exhilarating moan, right into your mouth, against your tongue. “Mm, mm-”
She never quite manages full sentences. Never finds it in herself to make any more obscene demands. Just gets all small and soaking underneath you, licks messily at your bottom lip, and lets you do all the talking - lets you draw a careful hand through her hair and drop your other one between her thighs, clenches tight around your cock when you rub at her clit, keens low in her throat and listens. To the good girl, to the I got you, baby, to the that’s it, there you go, this is what you wanted - I know, honey, I know, you just needed to get this cunt fucked right, you just needed to cum real bad. I know what this is. I know what you need.
“Fuck.” She’s flushed pink to her chest, delightfully ineloquent. “Yes-”
Well - good thing you’re decent with your words, when it counts. Let Karina blush and drool and slick up your cock with every stroke. That’ll work just fine with you.
It’s the kind of juxtaposition you’d really lean into - the kind of thing you’d write just to get so self-indulgent with, a personalized note to the director, a wink and a nudge to every audience member. Look at that. Look at her eyes like something straight out of poetry. Look at her body like a pornographic fantasy. Look at how she gets so tamed and docile and compliant when she gets her tiny pussy stuffed full, creaming all over that cock, huge tits bouncing - look, that’s art, isn’t it? What else would you call it? What else could it be?
“You gonna cum, baby?” She’s so fragile underneath you. Color staining her cheeks apple-red; lips swollen and begging to be kissed. Fictive little fairy tale. “You gonna cum for me?”
“Yeah.” It’s breathy and barely-there. Her chin trembles, jerks in a weak nod. “I’m - I - fuck-”
See: you just can’t rough her up. It’d be blasphemous. Sacrilege. Taking one single look at the stained-glass windows of a church and tearing it all to the ground.
Still, you’re mesmerized by how utterly vulnerable she looks: the glossy shine to her irises; the way she inhales all slow and shaky, body slipping from some sort of precipice. Not just like she’s near-tears, but like she’s stunned - struck dumb from a violent blow, mouth wide open in the aftermath. And it’s just sex - and, fuck, you’ve said it, you see things the way every obsessive artist does; sex is never just sex. Every one thing means something more. A metaphor. An allegory. You get nasty and debauched and dirty because you know exactly what you can spin it into. Put the entire scene in a silent film and everyone can swoon about the things you might be saying to her, this impossibly captivating stranger in your bed with her graceful name, her dizzying moans, her shuddering frame in her orgasm. Don’t you get it? you could be telling her, hand brushing gently over her sweat-damp hairline. Don’t you feel that? You’re a stranger to me, baby, but you don’t have to be. There’s a reason we met. There’s a meant-to-be here, somewhere. I’m not a believer, sweetheart, but you could make one out of me - I swear you could, I promise-
But that’s the reason why these things are best left to the imagination, anyway.
A million scripted sweet nothings - and none of them manage to make it out of your mouth.
“Karina.” Your hips jerk hard. You sound half-possessed. “So pretty, cumming all over my cock like that. Such a perfect little cunt, baby - so fucking good-”
Her eyes suddenly shut tight; her body arcs into your touch, lips parted in a silent gasp. And for a second it seems like such a snapshot of innocence, like she’s brand-new to getting fucked quick and rough and dirty - though you know this can’t possibly be the truth, not with the way she flirts and whines and drips for more like she’s made for it - but she’s trembling under your fingertips, and you can dream. She’s your beautiful stranger, your pristine muse; you can pretend she’s whatever the fuck you want.
“God,” Karina murmurs, so soft and weak it makes your head spin.
Before you know what you’re doing - before you can even think twice about it - you’re pulling out, and cumming all over her stomach.
You can’t help it. You shouldn’t have had that thought about innocence. Jesus. This is what you mean, about you and your own painful humanity; you’ve got all the same vile desires. When you see a pure thing - all that porcelain skin, all that thick glossy black hair, all those gleaming white teeth in her open mouth - your very first instinct is to fuck it up bad.
You’d do worse, if you were worse - you’d make a real fucking disaster out of her.
“Baby,” you say, breathlessly. “Are you…”
And Karina, then, does something truly evil:
Sighs luxuriously, stretches her arms above her head, eases those gorgeous eyes open, and smiles.
As if she’s reveling in it. The scent of sex - the defiled tautness of her tummy - the way you’re not sure where her little red dress or her shoes or her panties are, how her cunt’s dripping wet onto your sheets, her hair a glorious mess. Grinning in the face of utter filth.
“You,” you exhale, running your palm down her side. “You’re so…”
Karina’s mouth pulls up at a corner, like she’s daring you to finish the sentence, but you never do.
You can’t stop staring at the stretch of cum-covered skin before you. Coating her belly, pooling into her navel. You realize with a start that there’s a new bruise blooming on her chest, a vicious sort of bite mark. You can’t remember when you did that. You’d been kissing her - of course you kissed her - her mouth and her neck and her tits, but you’d been so gentle, sucking light and soothing her skin with your tongue after-
“You didn’t want to cum inside me?” Karina asks, hoarsely.
You blink so hard your vision blurs. “What?”
“Right.” Her eyeshadow’s smudged dark underneath her eyes, making her look deliciously used up. “You did want to cum inside me.”
“Karina,” you warn - or, at least, you mean to make it sound like a warning - but her name comes out too faint. It’s horrific. Your hand traces her hipbone so reverently. You’re no match for her.
Karina arches a brow in unhurried challenge, ghosts her hand across her tummy. Takes two fingers and drags them through the cum you spilled, pulls back with it clinging thickly to her skin. Drifts down, down, down.
“Karina,” you try to say again, even more pathetic than last time. “Jesus-”
But you saying her name holds no weight here; she’s made that more than obvious. Nothing to stop her as she smears her cum-slick fingers across her glistening pussy, gaze locked amusedly on your face, tracking your reaction. She’s still so fucking wet - she rubs your cum in circles across her clit - tossing her head back a little, chest heaving and falling, fingertips just barely dipping inside her cunt-
“I can’t.” Karina lifts her hand to pop her fingers in her mouth, sucks them clean. Pointedly flashes her too-sharp nails at you like she’s unsheathing claws. “If you want it, you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”
“You,” you say, though your hand’s already pressing hard into her ribs, “are fucking cruel, baby.”
“And you,” replies Karina, head tilting, “just want to see my cunt all filled up and leaking your cum.”
Oh, she hasn’t been wrong about you all night. She certainly won’t start now.
“What?” A sly, languid smirk tugs at her lips. “Afraid you’re gonna knock me up or something?”
Your breath halts right in your lungs.
You’d been right about her too, it seems. Succubus. Vampire. She must be; she’s bloodthirsty. Tits gleaming with sweat, the scarlet stain of that bite mark you can’t remember leaving, cunt all dripping wet and desperately empty - body like a fatal fucking blow.
Karina’s eyes glint. I want what you want, she’d said.
With the way she spreads her legs, she’s gotta be ready to prove it.
So you never stood a chance. You give in and scoop up cum with one finger and sink it deep inside her aching cunt, feeling as she clenches down, as she takes it so well; like a good girl, you tell her, letting me do whatever I want with this needy little cunt; that’s my good girl. Karina lifts her hips - goes so still and so obedient - and lets you repeat it over and over again, fucking into her with your fingers until the plane of her stomach is bare and sticky and her cunt’s dribbling your cum onto your sheets. It’s completely nasty. It’s hot. It’s Karina craning her neck back and shutting her eyes as you bury three fingers inside of her and fill her with your cum, every part of her in utter surrender, entirely at your mercy, breathing out hard through her nose until your thumb rubs at her clit and she’s cumming again, all over your hand. She gets this look on her face, afterwards - exhausted, every line of her face gentle and lax - staring up at you like you’re the only person still left on this planet. Adoring, almost. As if you’re something out of another world.
It’s an expression too sweet for a scene like this - and it’s exactly what men like you make art about.
“There,” you say, soft and mesmerized, wiping your hand across her chest. “Satisfied?”
Karina laughs her strange, gravelly, gorgeous laugh.
“No,” she says, shamelessly. “But that’s not your fault.”
Your fingers curl around the curve of her jaw. “No?”
She barely looks like she belongs in your bed - she must be something divine, lit from within, god-blessedly gorgeous. She’s a fucking fever dream: stunning eyes and the bob of her throat and her tits and her curves and all that hair. Stay, you think of telling her. Let me see what I can make of you. I don’t know you yet but I could, baby, I really could.
“Nope.” Karina smiles, and somewhere, soliloquies are writing themselves. “I always want more.”
“Okay,” you say, mouth hovering over hers. “Then stay.”
-
So she stays.
-
(An update on your script:
The stranger and the girl are back at his place. They’re sitting on his couch. Nobody has cleaned off her neck. He’s been too busy pawing at her: at her face, between her legs, at her tits in her tight dress. I need you, he’s been murmuring to her, and it feels like he really means it: like he’ll die if he doesn’t get her desperate and whining underneath him, his cock stretching her tight little cunt wide open. He doesn’t feel too bad about it. She’s a dirty slut. She’s said as much. She’s got her own needs, too.
What happened to your window? she asks, suddenly.
He pulls back from her chest, his spit clinging shiny to her skin.
She isn’t looking at him. He has the sudden, unnerving feeling that she hasn’t been looking at him the whole time. Not like she’s had her eyes closed in blinding, overwhelming pleasure - but like she’s deliberately been trying to look at anything else.
But his hand falls between her thighs, and he realizes she’s already wet.
A bird flew into it, probably, he says. That happens, sometimes.
They’re talking about the stain on the once-clean glass of his window. The backdrop of the night sky behind means it’s barely visible, but the suggestion of it is enough. Implicit gore. Tiny little black feathers, caked in blood from the impact, dark and dried. It’ll be scrubbed off soon enough, he knows. It’ll be all gone eventually.
Oh, she says. She doesn’t apologize for potentially killing the mood. She hasn’t, anyway, not really. She’s still wet and small underneath him, begging for it. Poor thing.
Yeah, he says.
She turns back to him. Her hair’s everywhere, all over the arm of his couch, wayward strands beneath his fingers. She’s clearly expecting something - to be kissed, to be fucked hard, to be called baby and angel and good girl. It doesn’t really matter either way. Those are the only things he can give her.
He stares at the blood on her neck.
Let me clean that off for you, actually, he says, and goes to the kitchen to get a washcloth.)
-
Much, much later:
“I admire you,” Karina says, all tucked up in your bed, underneath your sheets, half-buried into your side. Moonlight bleeds into the room. Her eyes gleam like galaxies. “For showing some self-control.”
“What?”
Karina’s hair pours over your pillowcase. She takes your hand and brings it close to her face, working your fingers into a tight fist.
“Fucking bitch,” you mutter, and then regret it immediately. It lands too harshly, too strange and serious. “Sorry. I didn’t - that came out weird. I don’t think you’re a bitch.”
Karina’s lips brush your knuckles. “Not the meanest thing I’ve been called.” Her voice twists with humor. She shouldn’t be so comfortable curled up with a man she doesn’t know in the middle of the night. You think of kissing her hard, of scraping her neck with your teeth, of warning her about self-preservation - sweetheart, you could tell her, this is how people end up dead. “Not the meanest thing I’ll be called, either.”
You shift. Your fist, unconsciously, goes tense in her hand. “What’s your deal?”
Her mouth tilts. “What’s yours?”
You huff out a laugh. “You’re unbearable,” you say softly, which feels much kinder than calling her a bitch. “What are you - what do you mean?”
I’m not hard to figure out, you want to tell her. I’ll let you in if you ask me to. But you - you, you imagine saying, cupping Karina’s face in your hands and saying her name like you’re praying to her, drafting scenes in your head with each whispered syllable - you. Look at you. I’d fill a thousand pages trying to find a way to understand you.
“If you want to hurt me,” Karina says, “then hurt me.”
Your throat dries up. Your fist falls open. “What?”
“I wouldn’t blame you.” Her voice is matter-of-fact. You see her tongue dart over her bottom lip, the slick glimmer of spit. “If that’s what you wanted.”
You stare at her, hard.
It’s not difficult to make out her silhouette in the dark; she’s illuminated so distinctly by the moon, like it’s her own on-set spotlight, professionally arranged - she’s got the cosmos calling her shots. You think about how careful you’d been with her: doing what she wanted and making her cum and kissing her like you have history and maybe fucking her like you love her, just a little.
You think about that bruise you left on her chest, her skin between your teeth, the feeling of biting down.
“It’s not,” you say, and the lie tastes acrid in your mouth. “It’s - it’s not, Karina.”
“You fucked my face in public within like an hour of meeting me. And fucked me and came on my stomach. And fingered your cum inside of me.” It’s far past midnight. She sounds more alert than she should. “You’re gonna start being polite now?”
It sends an odd knot to your gut, the way she puts it. Equating all of that to hurting her. Laughing in the face of your clenched fist - not because she thinks you won’t do it, but because she knows how bad you want it.
Hurt me. She says it like it’s so easy. Fuck me. Let me stay the night. Hurt me; you’ve earned it.
“I’m not polite.” The truth doesn’t taste much better. “I just have, you know, common fucking decency.”
“Hm,” Karina says, a nonchalant little noise, and nothing else.
You brush her hair off her neck and your fingertips graze the hollow of her throat. You feel her swallow under your touch. You open your mouth, though you’re not sure what you’re about to say - Karina, like a chant, like she’s consumed you in a matter of moments, Karina - but she shuts her eyes delicately, and curls close to you, and just like that the moment is over.
I have common decency, you’d said. I won’t hurt you. I promise. I can control myself.
So maybe you weren’t right about everything. You’re not the devil. That’d be a delusion of grandeur - the idea that you’d ever have that kind of power over a girl like her.
Not for long, she’d replied, in the knowing tilt of her smile. Not if I can help it.
-
In the morning, it’s a picture of crime-scene proportions. It takes a little work to piece it all together.
Karina’s not in bed when you wake up, but there are traces of her everywhere - telltale, incriminating bits of evidence. Strands of her hair on the pillow. Blood-red lipstick stains on the fabric. Her crimson dress crumpled on your bedroom floor, sporting a tiny tear in the hem that you don’t remember leaving; you can still smell her perfume all over your sheets, like a calling card. If this was a TV drama - a clichéd police procedural - she’d probably be dead in your living room right now, blank-eyed and beyond saving, rigor mortis deforming her perfect body into something grotesque.
This is also probably not a thought you should ever relay to Karina, but you do anyway.
“Sorry to disappoint,” she replies. She’s perched on your kitchen counter, dressed in one of your t-shirts, bare legs swinging. “I’m very much alive.”
“I was being dramatic,” you try to say, gesturing with your hands to set the scene - the lighting, the fake blood and the special effects, the potential pallor of her face. “I’m - I’m a screenwriter. It’s in my nature. I didn’t mean I wanted to find your fucking corpse out here-”
“It’s okay if you did.”
You choke. “What?”
“I’m right with you, babe.” Karina leans forward conspiratorially. There’s a sharpness to the dark glint in her eyes that kind of makes you think she really does understand: that she has the same tendency to jump to the worst possible conclusions. A kindred, morbid spirit. “I get it. I’m pretty devastated that I’m still breathing, too.”
She says this all in a scratchy, sultry voice, hoarse as though she’s been sleeping for years instead of hours. Lashes fluttering like she’s just told you something very adorable and sweet.
“God,” you say, desperately charmed, and laugh until you feel light-headed. “You’re sick.”
Karina’s mouth curls. “Right.”
“I’m serious.” It’s surreal: her wearing your clothes and sitting on your counter like this is an everyday occurrence, indulging every fucked-up thing you say to her. Maybe you’re still caught somewhere in a dream, just waiting to wake up. “You’re, like - not normal.”
“Hey.” A light, careless shrug; her palm rests over the back of her neck. “No arguments here.”
You rub a hand over your eyes, smiling like an idiot, and take a breath.
It’s late January, and cool sunlight drips into the room, over your furniture and your floors and the angel right in the middle of your kitchen. It should wash her out, blur her at the edges; it doesn’t even come close. Turns her to a freeze frame instead, carefully color-graded, every hue just a bit too intense: skin ghost-pale, lips pouty and pink, hair jet-black and tangled to her waist. Your shirt hangs off of her slender frame like it aims to swallow her up. You thought you’d been stunned by Karina before, lulled by the late night, the electric rush of touching her - you’d assumed you could blame it on the alcohol, the slutty dress and the sultry makeup and the long-held habit of artistic romanticization-
But it’s nothing compared to seeing her now.
Karina crosses one leg over the other, and waits as though expecting a rating: to be starred out of five like a film.
Face scrubbed clean. Bone structure a study of faultless symmetry, delicate in a way that feels both inhuman and invulnerable. She’s so classically breathtaking - a miraculous second coming of a tragic, iconic movie star, a phenomenon back from the grave; jaw and nose and mouth all clean lines, aesthetically precise art - but God, those eyes. Enormous without the thick liner, suggestive only of impossible innocence. Like some darling baby animal, some long-lashed lamb to the slaughter - something pristine and completely untouched.
The morning after, the direct light, the exposed behind-the-scenes - she’s still beyond beautiful.
And somehow she’s still here with you.
“That’s insane, by the way,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “That you stayed.”
There’s a loud cracking sound.
You squint, disoriented. “What-”
Karina blinks at you, wide-eyed; her jaw shifts. The sound echoes again, startling and sudden. “What?”
“Are-” You step closer. “Are you chewing on fucking glass or something?”
“Or something,” Karina replies, smile’s tiny and closed-off. She gestures to the cup next to her. “It’s just ice.”
She’s so calm watching you approach her. You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the freakout, for the breakdown - or, at the very least, the scrambling excuses before the walk of shame. Here’s the truth: she doesn’t know you. Here’s an even worse truth: judging by her hickey that looks like you might’ve tried to rip her throat out earlier, she’d have every right to take one look at you and run.
Karina doesn’t do any of it. Just raises her cup to her lips and tips it back, the arc of her neck so inviting.
“That’s so fucking bad for your enamel.” You’re laughing again. You’re in front of her now, settled between her legs. “You’re gonna break a tooth.”
Karina sets her glass down. Wipes the corner of her mouth with her wrist, eyes locked amusedly on yours - heavy-lidded enough to seem lazy, but pupils blown enough to be a siren call, a deliberate suggestion.
“Oh, no,” she says, all smoky sarcasm. “Who’d ever want me then?”
She parts her thighs the second you touch them; her body’s so obedient under your fingertips, like a doll’s, something to be dressed up and posed and played with. Daring you to do everything you’re already thinking about doing.
“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur, and give in completely.
So:
Look, you know exactly how the movies would frame this. Pandering to the wide-eyed teenagers and hopeless romantics; adding the swell of strings every time your eyes or hands or lips meet, each motion accompanied with unsubtle cues - there’s the meet-cute, there’s the moment, there’s the love-at-first-sight. It’s ridiculous to drag any of that into your real life, of course. It’d be like believing in God. Giving up logic to put your faith in something silly and mythic and implausible - to follow true love like a religion, expecting it to save your soul; to pray to the one like a healing property, a benevolent higher power.
You can’t believe in that. You can’t.
But-
Karina pulls back the barest amount, eyelids fluttering open like a new day dawning, and smiles when she sees the look on your face. So sweet and gorgeous; so struck and adoring. So comfortable wrapped up in your arms.
“Hi,” she murmurs.
And - as though it’s some bone-deep instinct, saturating your bloodstream - you just have to kiss her again.
Don’t you feel that? you think of telling her again, your hand slipping to cup her cheek - the sentiment always seems to come back around. You swear you can see scenes flashing behind your eyelids, the beginnings of a creative epiphany; it must be seeping through your fingers, staining her skin with ink, every possible action depicted neatly between brackets. A laugh, a look, a touch. A version of Karina projected across the silver screen to a wild, wanting audience. Don’t you see what you could do for me? What you’re capable of becoming?
You can’t believe in any of this, but it’s gotta be something close.
The feeling doesn’t end when the kiss does: only intensifies, made tangible somehow. Sculpted into the spit-slick curve of her lips, the flinty gleam in her eye. Like she feels it too. Like she knows.
“And it’s not insane that I stayed,” Karina says, belatedly. “You asked me to.”
For a moment you just stare at her, seconds from her mouth and speechless.
It’s the truth without difficulty. It’s a confession with no strings attached. It’s the fucking dangerous way she says it - as if whatever you want extends to a lot more than sex.
“And you don’t-” Your throat closes over a swallow; you find your eyes darting between hers, searching for anything but honesty. “You don’t think that’s insane? Doing whatever a stranger tells you to?”
Karina only laughs her strange laugh, gritty the way good music is, demanding to be heard.
“Nope,” she says, like this is all so simple. “That’s just what I do.”
It’s unbearably filthy in its implication - and it’s exactly what you need.
The room seems to fill with potential, fantasies pouring in from the ceiling, enough to bloat any manuscript to its breaking point. You let out a breathless laugh, loud and unabashed. You think of pushing for even more, pressing your nails in and digging deeper - why me, why this, why now - but Karina leans in close before you can and slots her mouth to yours, and you’re no fool: there’s no line of questioning worth giving that up.
Seems like you’ll have to come up with this character motivation all on your own.
-
“Look at us,” she murmurs against your lips - meaning this very minute, the chemistry, how every glittering star must’ve conspired to get you here. “Kinda feels like this was meant to be, huh?”
She’s clearly kidding, because it’s too soon and too fucking crazy, but-
Well, the way you kiss her then is absolutely your version of a yes.
-
Here’s something people should probably know about artists like you:
You’re rather enamored with the idea of a magnum opus.
It’s a natural thing to reach for, to visualize - the concept of your one great masterpiece. Something you can pour years and years into, water into roaring reckless oceans; time transforming the things you make into something worth remembering forever. Everyone you know - your sculptors, your songwriters - has their own version of this, somewhere. When I finally create this one perfect thing I’ll be - go on, fill in the blank. Fulfilled. Gratified. Happy. When I finally do this, I’ll feel whole.
It’s strangely fantastical. A lifelong dream a kid would have - a childlike, storybook aspiration.
Yours - as far as you’ve figured out - looks a little like this:
“It’s not as romantic as it should be,” you admit, now. “I’m not really into that as a theme. True love, I mean. Or optimism. Or hope. I want something more…” Something rougher, you mean. Something with pain. Something with blood and bruises. “Nuanced, you know? Complicated, messy.”
“I get it,” replies Karina. She has her hands twisted in her lap, watching you very closely. You’re obsessed with the way she looks at you - like she’s drinking every word in with those smoldering dark eyes, greedy for more. For you. “All the best art is about pain, huh?”
You snap your fingers, pleased to be understood. “Exactly.”
Karina smiles, small and knowing, and gestures you on.
In your vision, your magnum opus is always about a girl. Like you said, it’s the way it goes with all the best films ever made: not about love, but the futility of it lasting. Think of all the famed examples - think of the filmmakers and their obsessions, sneaking the great loves of their lives between each line: there’s something she said, there’s a dress she wore, there’s a conversation they had in the middle of the night, tangled up in sheets and whispering against skin. Your future muse will be just like that. A reincarnation of the infamous women who haunt all the greatest artists - an amalgamation of their bodies contorted into narratives and replicated in loving, graphic detail. Someone with skin like marble, a statue you could take a sledgehammer to. Someone who looks unfathomably pretty when she cries.
Someone like-
“Uh-huh,” says Karina. She must’ve just gotten out of the shower before you found her, because her hair’s damp enough to have left wet patches on your t-shirt. She licks her bottom lip, once. “Sure.”
Someone to be what you’ve always wanted: a flawless girl to fall from the sky into your lap. To fulfill your promise to yourself: when I meet her, I’ll know. I’ll be able to make this movie. When I meet her, everything will slip exactly into place.
Karina cracks another ice cube between her teeth.
“So,” she says, low with insinuation. “When you told me last night that you found me inspiring…”
She doesn’t need to finish the question. She knows exactly what you want.
“You’re…” You shake your head. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I saw you and I just - I felt like I knew. I knew. I wanted you.” You shrug helplessly, smiling. “Do you think I’m nuts?”
She should, probably. You’re a total stranger, a practical lunatic, an artist talking of your visions like you’re possessed. You don’t know her - that’s the reality of the situation. You don’t know her.
But then there’s everything else.
The unbelievable sex, the staying the night; the way she lets you touch her, blinking slow and subservient, like you already have a claim to her body. You think muse and you think in abstract concepts, glittering stars, guiding lights; you think of skin cut up and sewn together, of creators and their finest monsters, of the implicit poetry in the undoing. You think muse and you think of the way Karina smiles at you now, full lips and frail bones, a painter’s portrait reference. Unmoving, unafraid. Too otherworldly for your day-to-day but just right when she’s in your arms, like a trial-run demonstration: this is what we’re capable of. You could make it happen. You could make me fit.
You swear you’ve been dreaming of someone like her your whole fucking life.
You think muse, and now you can only think of her.
It’s a sign. It must be. And this, the next one:
“No,” Karina says, easily. “I think you’re just like everyone else.” But she raises an eyebrow, so you know it’s a joke. “I think you’re all the same.”
You laugh, delighted; Karina’s smile widens, shows her teeth. “Shut up.”
Karina acquiesces immediately - claps a hand over her mouth like it’ll keep any other words from escaping. It’s so adorable that you can’t keep yourself from pouncing, suddenly all over her like an animal: wrenching her thin wrist down, fingers threading through her hair, tugging her lips to yours as if you’ve been starved and she’s something to devour. She’s so cold, ice still melting on her tongue; even her body feels glacial, more porcelain than real. It drives you wild - the stunning impossibility of her. The desire to see it all reworked, unwound, shattered.
“So,” you breathe over her mouth. “I can write about you?”
“Babe.” Karina’s dark eyes sparkle, frozen-over streets in the mid-winter sun. “You can do anything you want with me.”
That’s the whole point of having a muse, after all. Everything they are becomes yours.
-
“But,” you can’t help saying right after: “you don’t have to be, like - concerned. About what I said. About art and pain. I mean…” You falter. You’re standing in between her spread legs now, thumbing the sharp curve of her jaw. “It’s fiction. I’m not that kind of guy in real life - I’m not going to hurt you.”
Karina just stares at you, sentiment clear and unspoken.
“Not like - not seriously.” You roll your eyes, laughing it off. “Not like that.”
“Not like that,” Karina echoes. The hickey on her neck seems to flush redder every time you look at it - a photograph in a darkroom, developing. “But in other ways.”
Your mouth opens, but whatever defense you might’ve had gets traitorously stuck in your throat.
Karina laughs hoarsely, lets you trace her bottom lip with a finger. She seems to get the picture - that you’d love to see it bitten and bloody, but only ever in the name of art. There’s a kind of sick, sadistic beauty in destruction, battles waged and lost. She leans into your touch like she’s seen all the war films and knows precisely why they’re so well-loved.
“For the record,” she tells you, arms looped loosely around your neck: “I look very pretty when I cry.”
“Jesus Christ.” You’re smiling. She couldn’t be more perfect if you’d dreamt her up yourself. “Then I guess I’ll have to make it happen.”
-
It’s like fate, probably.
-
(Up next in your script:
The girl is standing in the stranger’s bathroom. She’s turning a little glass perfume bottle over in her hands when he stops in the doorway. He’s perfectly content to watch her; she’s the kind of beautiful that deserves to be observed, like some exotic wild animal caged between four walls in an elaborate exhibit, mildly unaware of all the attention. Her hair is messy; her head is tilted down. Unseeing.
Oh, he says. That was my-
Except he doesn’t even get the rest of the sentence out before the girl whirls around, and the bottle slips from her hand and shatters on the floor.
Jesus. The stranger jolts back. Jumpy. He’s not too concerned about the broken bottle; it’s not his, anyway. Why the fuck did you do that?
Sorry, the girl says. She’s leaning rather casually against the counter, observing the glass covering the ground, the sickly-sweet smell of the perfume sticking to the tile. Honeysuckle and the sharp note of alcohol, rendered unrecognizable. You scared me.
He looks down. A crystalline stretch of tiny little shards - if she tried to move she’d slice her foot open.
No worries, he says. Hold on.
He ducks into the kitchen to get a broom and when he comes back he stops in his tracks. There’s something slightly off about the picture in front of him. She’s small against the background counter, frozen, barely blinking. Everything about her looks suddenly frail, fair skin ghostly underneath shitty bathroom lighting, cheekbones gaunt and sunken-in, hair pouring ink-black in endless waves. A vengeful spirit. An incorporeal haunting.
Did you…? he starts to say, thrown.
She blinks, finally. Did I what?
He pauses, reassesses. She’s gorgeous. She’s art. She’s vibrantly alive.
Never mind, he says.
It seems kind of like she’d moved, but he can’t tell. He forgets about it. She’s still beautiful and she seems okay and so he steps forward and clears the worst of the glass out of the way.
It’s silly, she says, watching him. I used to know someone who wore that perfume.
It was my ex-girlfriend’s, he says. She left it here a while back. I think it’s a common brand or whatever. Hey, let me help you.
He’s very chivalrous about it, sweeping her off her feet, cradling her bridal-style across the possible remnants of glass. She laughs all the while, playing into it - a princess out of a fairy tale, being carried to safety by some gallant knight. But then he sets her down and cups her ass and says, You gonna pay me back for the property damage or what? and she laughs harder, because there’s nothing funnier than that: sweet moments turned filthy, a startling hairpin turn in intention.
Or - conversely - a revelation of the absolute truth. Because what else could he ever want from her?
So she says, Yeah, sure, take everything, and leans in to kiss him.
It’s a normal kiss, mostly. It’s just that it begins pointedly erotic but seems to turn strange after a second, like he might be gripping her hair too hard, like she might be corpse-limp in his arms, like at any moment he could unhinge his jaw and sprout fangs and swallow her whole, cannibalistic, viperous. There’s too much spit and sound. There’s too much teeth and selfishness. It stretches on too long and lingers where it shouldn’t and overstays its welcome terribly - the score seems to fall off-beat, the lighting seems to shift dark and discolored-
But then the kiss breaks, and it’s over.
When he pulls off of her she looks like the perfect picture of flushed contentment. Eyes half-lidded and lashes fluttering, her pouty lips swollen and rosy. Smiling like she wants more, like she wants it so, so bad.
It didn’t get you? he asks finally, looking at her neck, thinking of thorns and pinprick pain and the rivulet of crimson that’d decorated her throat. The glass?
No, she says. Don’t you wanna fuck me now?
Oh, God, he says, grinning, and every other thought melts away into nothing. He likes how she doesn’t play coy. He likes how she’s smaller and has to tilt her chin up to look at him. He wants to fuck her, so he does.
It’s excellent sex. The blood on the tile doesn’t really matter.)
-
Before you really start writing, there’s just one singular problem: you don’t know anything about her.
“That’s not true,” Karina replies, right away.
You open your mouth, then close it, because - okay, she’s not completely wrong.
For about an hour now you just haven’t been able to stop talking to her. About anything, everything: your start into screenwriting, your favorite novels, your greatest inspirations, your neverending passion for eerie, erotic art. You can’t seem to shut up. And it would be bad - would be making you feel self-conscious right now, if it were anyone else - but it’s just not. Because it’s, well-
It’s you, you told her, thoughtfully, watching as the sun climbed higher into the sky, golden light grazing each scalpel-sharp edge of Karina’s body. You’re easy to talk to. Has anyone ever told you that?
Karina blinked at you. Tucked a strand of silky hair behind her ear and looked away, considering it.
She has this way about her: this serene openness to her big eyes, her body language. Leaning back on her hands, humming and nodding and saying I get it, I feel that way too, I understand with such sweet sincerity that you can’t help but believe her. Like a Catholic confessional, a pristinely blank page - something you could pour hours and hours of words into that would never, ever complain.
Yeah, Karina said, finally. She pulled one leg up to her chest; you could see the lacy black of her panties. I get that all the time.
Just one of those people, huh? Her character was taking shape already. A vault for everyone else’s thoughts and ideas, cradling them between her fingers like something infinitely precious. A listener. Such a lovely trait; a perfect protagonist characteristic. An observer.
Yeah. Her cheek rested gently against a knobby knee. Exactly.
It’s something of an art study. You’ve been filing away these details about Karina since the moment you met her, unraveling her bit by bit.
She always seems to think deeply before she speaks, a sort of charming self-scripting, like she wants to make sure she gets every sentence just right. She makes silence seem like the most natural thing in the world. She doesn’t laugh nervously or blush or get embarrassed, ever. She’d mentioned offhand during one of your tangents about your most beloved movies that she tends to like films about gorgeous, dangerous, scarily self-possessed girls: Thirteen and Black Swan and Girl, Interrupted. She seems both intensely present and consistently lost in thought, there one moment and gone the next, her long-lashed gaze falling in and out of focus like a camera lens. A contradiction, you think to yourself. An enigma, even. Profoundly complicated. Not just a girl but something more.
Art in and of itself, displayed deliberately on your kitchen counter, waiting to be understood.
“No, you’re right.” Your fingers have strayed to your open laptop; you’re seconds from typing Karina’s name like a title, something you’ve created all on your own. “I know…”
You’re trying to think of something nonchalant to say and failing. I know you - the first instinct, somehow. I know you’re something brilliant and remarkable and new. I know I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. I know there’s something here, I know what I feel, I know what I want - you, you, you.
Karina stares at the ice melting in her glass.
Then she says, mouth tripping up at a corner: “You know I’m a world-class fuck.”
“Jesus.” You laugh out loud, surprised. “Okay, yeah. That.” A pause. “And, obviously-”
“Obviously,” Karina echoes, like she knows where this is going.
“I know that you’re, like - outrageously fucking beautiful.”
Karina hums once, letting the compliment wash over her, and turns to look out the window.
You bite down on your lip - bite back all the other too-soon things you could say about her, threatening to claw their way out of your mouth - and go in on your script instead.
It’s shockingly easy to write with her in the room. The details seem to stitch themselves together on-page, the restorative aftermath of an autopsy: sealing the slit chest cavity back up, prepping a corpse for an open casket, making something disconnected whole and beautiful again. You’d pulled these specifics from her like pulsing, throbbing organs - her tits, her tone, her tiny waist - and now all you’re doing is repurposing them. You know her body now. You turn stretches of pale, bruised-pink skin into prose, the curl of her little fingers around her thigh into dialogue. You imagine taking that perfect frame and picking it apart again, bit by bit; not just undressing her but peeling back layers of flesh, familiarizing yourself with the stark scarlet of her bloodstream. Until there’s nothing to hide and you can finally say it - I know you - and it’ll feel earned, and real, and honest.
All very melodramatic, of course. It’s just the process: the natural consequence of being a writer.
Your eyes trace the jutting protrusion of muscle in Karina’s throat, and you think about fucking her again.
“Also,” you say, as though your earlier conversation isn’t long over. “I want to know-”
Karina makes a huffy, half-impatient noise.
You grin, gaze flicking back to her face. “What?”
“You want to know more?” Her brows furrow in exaggerated confusion; her smile is absurdly self-deprecating. As if there’s anything she could possibly be insecure about. “You already got the two most interesting things about me, babe.”
“Stop.” Your mouth twitches. “No way.”
Karina’s smile stills in place, expectant. “No?”
“Come on.” Your hand slips from the keyboard to trace her knee. “I’m sure there’s all kinds of interesting things about you I haven’t learned yet.”
The laugh she lets out is quiet and nearly secretive, legs parting to let you touch her. You’re already half in some faraway daydream, wondering if you can bottle the color of her eyes and turn it loose on the page.
“Okay,” Karina says, easily. She nudges your laptop away, scoots closer to you, her sharp chin pointed down at you. “Come and learn them, then.”
“God.” As if that’s what you’re doing. Memorizing her body as some private education; taking her apart in a classroom dissection. “Can I - I’m trying to write, Karina. I’m being productive. I…” You’re shaking your head as though you’re not already giving in, fingers slipping up her thighs - she’s smirking at you like she knows it. “You’re fucking insatiable, you know that?”
“Then satiate me.” Karina’s head tilts, lids heavy. “Fuck me. Use me.” She leans down like she’s telling you a filthy, sordid secret. “Cum in me like I know you want to.”
There’s something surreal about how certain she is: never tripping over her words or waffling over intentions, the most practiced actress you’ve ever seen. Every move - her tongue wetting her bottom lip, her hand sliding gracefully through her hair, her mouth forming a sweet little pout - all clean, choreographed precision.
I know you, she says - like it’s earned, real, honest. Inexplicable, but there anyway. I know you want to.
“Karina.” Her name comes out embarrassingly strangled. You’re pulling her thighs further apart, toying with the edge of her underwear. “You’re such a fucking - you’re so needy.”
Her smirk sharpens even as you tug her panties roughly to the side. “I’m what?”
“Needy.”
“No.” She’s so wet - she’s probably seconds from dissolving into a whimpering breathless thing, begging to be underneath you, begging for more. That damn smirk is probably seconds from shattering completely. “What were you going to call me?”
“Nothing.” You drag a finger down the slick drenched heat of her cunt.
“A slut.” Her voice is a purr, gravelly and sensual. “You think I’m just this fucking slut who needs your cock all the time, huh?”
But it’s the kind of question that you already both know the answer to. Karina takes your finger-fucking so well, hips raised and rutting, hair cutting across her cheekbones - seems to give herself over to desire so fucking easily, with her whole body, back arching and neck craned and hot little cunt a sloppy mess. Never puts up a fight, never demures or acts shy; never says wait or don’t or stop. Only spreads her legs, and drips down your hand, and waits to be fucked good and hard.
And - hey, there’s one dirty word for a girl like that.
“Well.” You raise your eyebrows at her: a challenge. “Are you?”
It’s dangerous. This is all dangerous. Stumbling down a treacherous path, asking a stranger something like this. Are you what I think you are? Do I know you? Do I really?
Karina makes a low, luxurious noise at the stretch of your fingers in her cunt, buried to the knuckle.
“Sure,” she says - and the gleam in her eye tells you she knows exactly what she’s getting herself into. “I’m whatever you want me to be.”
-
So, it’s possible this is really the most interesting thing about her: she’s the kind of girl who never says no.
-
That scene goes down how all scenes should:
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-”
Karina’s choking out curses like she can’t recall any other words, head lolling back to expose the pretty bob of her throat. You thrust deep right then and she lets out a sound like an aching gasp, like you’ve doubled down with a fist to her gut, like you’re knocking the the air right out of her; you might as well be - oh, she moans, like she could be in shock or awe or pain - with the way you’ve got one of her thighs pulled up so you can fuck deep into her tight dripping cunt. It’s not nice, not really. Her back keeps hitting your counter. You keep staring at her neck and her hair and her face: the faint flush of her cheeks, the flawless construction of her bones underneath - there’s so much unmarked skin - God, she’s so clean, it’s like she’s never been fucking touched-
“You gonna cum for me?” you murmur, voice coming out thick and half-animalistic.
She has one hand curled around the back of your neck. She’s got those ridiculous clawed nails on her but she never presses down. Her pussy can’t stop clenching around your cock but she takes it so well, lets you make room inside her little cunt, shuts her eyes and trips over her own breath as you force her spine hard against your counter over and over again.
“Karina.”
“Yeah,” she exhales, raspy and strained, as your cock stretches her out. “Fuck, yeah-”
“Cum for me, honey. Cum all over my cock - oh, there you go, good girl-”
It’s hypnotic. The tiny bitten-off sounds spilling from her ice-cold mouth - that small pristine face and all that hair tangled to her waist, just available to be knotted and tugged and fucked all the way up - Karina clings to you when she cums, and you feel so much bigger than her when she does, like you’ve got her sloppy and open around your cock and you could do anything to her, that’s what she told you, and even if she hadn’t, it’s not like she could stop you - she’s gorgeous but she doesn’t have it in her - she’s just too fucking delicate-
It happens too fast to process.
One minute you’re buried inside her pussy and the next Karina’s on her knees, on the ground, and you’re jerking your cock until you’re cumming all over her.
It’s obscene. It’s fucking inevitable. Thick ropes of creamy cum coating her forehead, her cheekbone, her nose and mouth and getting all in that hair-
Her hair. You don’t realize how hard you’re gripping her hair with one hand - balled in a brutal fist at the back of her head - until you disentangle your fingers from it and Karina sinks to the floor like she’s just been cut loose from marionette strings, breathing fast and hard. She doesn’t even say anything: doesn’t comment on the fact that you’d just shoved her straight to the ground or complain when the head of your cock smears cum across her jaw. Doesn’t even flinch when your cock slaps heavy across her cheek, at the indecent sound of the impact.
You’re staring at her, open-mouthed. At her gorgeous, breathtaking, defiled face.
Karina’s not looking at you. Instead, she’s preening in the most lewd, pornographic way possible: swiping her thumb through the cum streaking across her forehead, popping it into her mouth to suck. Halfway through she seems to remember you’re still in the room - seems to recall the value of a performance - and she redirects her gaze up at you, lids heavy, and smirks.
“Did I…” you start, without knowing how the sentence will end. “Did I - was I-”
Karina lifts a cum-covered eyebrow. Her mouth’s an arresting pink, puckering around her thumb like it puckered around the cubes of ice, how her lips formed a ring around your cock back in the bookstore yesterday. She lets it slip free, shiny with spit.
“No,” she says. “You’re good.”
You can’t stop looking at the cum caught in her hairline. She’d been so fucking clean.
You glance down and realize there are strands of black hair broken off in your clenched fist.
Karina’s looking at her hair in your hand too, now, but with a sort of amused detachment. She stands shakily, using the counter for support. There’s cum all over her. Her knees are red from how hard she’d been pushed down.
“You’re so cute,” she tells you, grazing the side of your neck with her fingertips. “There’s no shame in being rough with me, babe.”
“Right.” There’s an unnamed pressure coiling in your chest. “But - but you-”
“Hey.” The word comes out in a rasp, and then Karina laughs, pushing the low hoarse lilt of her voice to its limits. She steps closer, angles her little cum-stained chin up at you. “Are you really gonna tell me you don’t like seeing me covered in your cum?” She’s tonguing the corner of her mouth. “Turning me into a-” her smirk pulls wicked; your next breath hitches so badly- “messy fucking whore for your cock?”
“God,” you get out, because she’s winding an arm around your neck, and her pretty face is still sticky with your cum. “I-”
“It’s what you wanted.” Karina blinks, in a show of such doe-eyed naïveté that saliva begins pooling hot in your mouth - like you’re feral, like you’re rabid. “Isn’t it?”
You’re looking down again. Her knees are going to bruise. Black and blue, as if someone’s bullied her in the schoolyard, pulled her pigtails and knocked her to the asphalt. An echo of something teachers could’ve told her years ago: oh, look, he’s mean to you because he’s got a crush. It’s okay, really - he only hurts you because he likes you.
“You like me like this,” Karina murmurs, dangerously low. “All sloppy and slutty for you.” Her gaze is trained on your mouth. “Marking me up.” Her hair slips from your hand. “Owning me.”
Her name clogs your throat, cloying and candy-sweet. “Karina-”
Karina’s head tilts. “Yes or no?”
She’s too close to you. She’s so filthily beautiful she seems somewhat alien, some kind of foreign invention. Her jaw is smeared with your cum and her flawless teeth shine like jewels and she’s like every creative vision you’ve ever had cut in clips and playing back in a movie theater, made to be scrutinized.
“Yes,” you tell her, winded. “You’re fucking - you’re unreal, you know that?”
You’re smiling like it’s flattery, like it’s an exaggeration. Like she’s not living, breathing, visionary art.
She smiles back, like she knows just how much you really mean it.
“So I’ve been told,” Karina says, and taps your neck, lightly. “Go make breakfast.” She shakes her hair out; some of it gets stuck to the cum on her cheekbone. “I’m taking another shower.”
“Right.” You bite into your bottom lip, hand skimming down her side. “Go get clean.”
“Clean?” She steps back and flashes a disbelieving grin, gestures pointedly at herself - her creamy thighs, her porn star tits in your t-shirt, her body like sex itself. Dirty by design. “Never happening.”
Some cynical part of you keeps waiting for a slip-up, some mistake in a masterfully crafted script - no one can be that gorgeous and still be here with you. But Karina moves and your eyes are hopelessly drawn to the disheveled curtain of her hair spiraling down her back, the sharp distinct lines of her calves, the flex of muscle in her thighs. Her hands, balled into little fists. She’s alluring as if manufactured that way: engineered to be perfectly bruisable, ruinable. It defies logic. It’s movie magic.
“Well.” You snort with laughter, swat at Karina’s ass as she turns to go. “At least you can try.”
You don’t even think she can help it - that’s the thing. It’s just what she was made for.
-
“What would you have done if I said no, though?” you ask after a moment, as she wavers in the doorway. “Like - what if I told you I didn’t like you like this?”
Karina shrugs.
“I would’ve been something else,” she says, and closes the bathroom door behind her.
-
(Next:
The stranger and the girl fuck and afterwards he promises her breakfast and then he realizes his cabinets are bare, his fridge painfully unstocked. Sorry, he says, as she pokes around his kitchen. I don’t know how that happened. I usually have something to eat here, I swear.
I don’t mind, she says. Her fingertips sweep his shelves. She seems fascinated by the emptiness, admiring the vacancy. Oh, wait, look.
She finds a half-eaten jar of honey that she ends up scooping up crudely with her fingers, dripping sticky amber down her hand. He’d tell her that’s disgusting but she makes it - as she seems to make everything - into a pointed seduction, her tongue pink and wetly visible, her skin gleaming as she licks it off. It’s funny. He’d never thought it possible to turn eating into some sort of sexual performance but she manages it anyway: meets his eyes, sucks loud and lewd, smacks her lips and wipes her mouth with her thumb, ill-mannered and stunning.
I can’t imagine that’s very filling, he says, delighted by her commitment.
Yeah, well, she says. It’s a good thing I hate feeling full.
But it seems like a moment of hilarious irony when ten minutes later he’s got her bent over his kitchen counter, tits pressed punishingly to the flat surface, honey stuck to her neck and collarbone as she’s fucked hard again and again, stuffed with his cock, his fingers everywhere, like her own body barely even belongs to her - all mine, he keeps saying, and means it; you’re all mine. All filled up. Overfed. Bursting.
Sex is a manner of consuming, it seems. He might as well be eating her alive.)
-
“Do you do this a lot?”
Eventually, it turns into one of those lazy Saturdays. An afternoon of sitcom plot points.
It’s just so easy to fill the time, the space, the page - you tell Karina some inane story from your college years and she reacts in all the right places like your own built-in studio audience; she says something off-handed and enticingly vague and suddenly you have a new thread of dialogue to explore. You’re both sprawled out over your couch, Karina’s got her thighs tucked over your legs, wearing another one of your t-shirts, a fresh hickey bruising over her throat. There’s something delightfully domestic about it - like you’ve been doing it for a lot longer than you have, or like you could do it eternally if given the chance, holding all the silken comfort of an old routine. When you’d mentioned it - I kind of feel like I could do this forever - she’d laughed her scratchy laugh and said forever’s nowhere near as long as you think it is, babe. A perfectly cinematic line. You stared at her, leaned over, and added it immediately to your draft.
“This whole…” You’re trying to elaborate now, staring at the blinking cursor on your laptop screen. Your knuckles skim her bare, bony knees. “You know.”
“Eloquent.”
“Shut up.”
“I thought you were a writer.”
“Karina.” You’re charmed by the drawl of her voice, the raspy roll of sarcasm. “I’m just wondering.”
Karina shifts in your lap. You’ve got one hand sneaking up the hem of her shirt - your shirt - skating up her tummy, her ribs. You’re probably about five minutes from snapping your laptop shut and pulling her on top of you and saying something crass about her tits and passing it off as a character study.
“What do you mean?” She’s as close to clean as she can be. You made sure of it - licked the hollow of her collarbone earlier after she got out of the shower, tasted nothing but soap and skin. “Do I have a lot of sex with strangers? Or do I stay the night a lot after I have sex with strangers?”
“Both.” You think of taking her hair down, sifting your hand through it, wrapping the strands around your fingers. “All of the above.”
Karina shoots you a look, fluttered lashes, suggestive understanding. You hear it without her having to say it. You want me to tell you that you’re special.
“I’ve kind of been going through a phase,” she says instead, nonchalantly.
Your eyebrows fly up. “A phase?”
“I’ve been, you know.” She gives an airy sigh. “Trying to find myself in the big city. Running wild. Terrified of monogamy but being very brave and quirky about it. Sordid past with love and romance and general human connection. Doing the whole manic pixie dream girl thing.” Her eyes flick to your open laptop, abruptly too wide and innocent. “That sound about right?”
“Fuck off.” It’s a complete non-answer. You run a hand past her stomach, laughing. “You’re fucking with me.”
“What?” Karina inches closer. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Your textbook rom-com love interest?”
You make a rather disparaging sound in the back of your throat. “Ugh.”
“Oh, my bad.” Her mouth curls, contradictory. There’s nothing apologetic about her. “I forgot. You don’t believe in art about love. You wanna see broken people and broken people only.”
“See?” You’re obsessed with her tone; all flirtation, some distorted version of come-hither charm. Talking of suffering like it’s a seduction tactic. “You get it.”
Karina rakes a hand through her hair; her fingers fall to the back of her neck and linger there. She pulls herself out of your lap and turns, hooks one bare long leg over you until she’s straddling you. Your hands find her hips. You’re disarmed by her strange weightlessness, like she’s seconds from either shattering or taking flight.
Then she asks, “Is that what you’re doing with me?”
It’s gotta be a very roundabout request to fuck her stupid, because she follows it up torturously: ducks her chin, parts her lips, rocks her hips down until you groan. You watch her throat, the way muscle works over bone, picturing unspeakable things: taking her by that pretty neck and pinning her to the wall, ripping your shirt right off of her with your fingertips leaving bruises - bending her over to fuck her fast and cruel until her cunt’s raw and aching and leaking your cum - until she’s begging pathetically, saying please, God, please - and you’re triumphant, victorious. Telling her you asked for this, didn’t you? You said anything. You said anything I want.
“Depends,” you reply, when you can breathe again. “Are you a broken person?”
Karina stops, moments from your mouth.
“Depends,” she echoes. “Is that what you want from me?”
It actually takes a beat for the question to sink in. Then two, then-
“No,” you say, loudly. “Obviously not, Karina, Jesus. Why would I…”
You falter.
Karina only looks back at you, patient, tolerant. Like if right now you said that’s exactly it: I want you broken, I want you ruined, I want you decaying and dead and buried, she’d smile and say do your worst. Flashing those white, white teeth, perfect like pearls, ready to be knocked right out and strung together.
You blink the bloody vision away. “Why would I ever want that?”
Karina studies you for a second longer, expression indecipherable.
“Okay,” she agrees, breezily. “Then I’m not broken. I’m just going through a phase, like I said. I don’t like being tied down.” Her shirt rides tantalizingly high up her thighs; her hand slips down to palm your cock. There’s a twist to her lips, a dirty sort of smirk. “You understand that, right?”
You stare at her.
“Right?” Karina prods, again, low and sultry.
“Right,” you say, unable to fight your sudden smile.
The pout of her mouth’s an inevitability; her little body in your lap’s a seductive form of foreshadowing. You dig your fingers into her protruding ribs, playful, and you don’t quite get the squeal of laughter you were expecting - all Karina does is curl closer, expecting more, expecting harder. She knows what you’re capable of. You’re both just biding your time until you cross the same line you’ve been crossing and you fall back into bed again.
“A phase,” you add, considering. It intrigues you, anyway - the casualness, the connotation. “So - I’m not special, then. That’s the moral of this story.”
Karina’s fingers sift gently through your hair. “You wanna be special?”
“I mean, yeah.” Your palm falls to her neck, presses down. She doesn’t seem to mind. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Her eyebrows rise in vague, unconvinced amusement. It makes sense: she’s the most special of all, a cosmic glitch, an angelic fluke. Someone like Karina wouldn’t understand the aching, clawing, consuming desire to be extraordinary. She’s already there.
Your hand on her throat looks even bigger now, tendons straining from underneath skin.
“I think we all want to feel important,” you mumble, thumb grazing gently across her jaw. “Don’t you?”
You’re pretty sure the wry, glittering smile that sits at Karina’s mouth is an answer in itself.
-
Alright, forget your television metaphors - you’re not sure there’s any sitcom out there that goes quite like this.
“By the way,” you say, grinning against her hair as you pull her to the bedroom. “Did you say you don’t like being tied down?”
Karina turns in your arms and doesn’t even flinch when you force her too hard against the doorframe and its edge smacks into her shoulder blade, digging in hard. You should apologize but you don’t; the possibility of her in pain seems laughable, a distant fantasy. This is how it goes, fucking a girl who looks like a god - your brain is convinced she’s wholly immune to hurt. The universe wouldn’t actually let someone so pretty bleed.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, voice raspy with insinuation. “Let me rephrase.”
“Karina,” you say, not really like a warning - more like you’ve got something to prove. This is real. You’re really here. You’re really this perfect, gorgeous, greedy thing. You’re really made for me.
Karina only lets her lips tilt in a smirk, devilish and knowing.
“I meant that I don’t like commitment,” she says. “I love being tied down.”
She’s still smiling when you shove her through the doorway, across the threshold - across that same old fucking line.
-
Not that it makes a difference now, but one of the reasons you and your most recent ex-girlfriend broke up was because of what you’d both referred to as sexual incompatibility. Actually, there were about fourteen other things, too - she was a trainwreck and a textbook attention whore; you spent all your time writing and she took offense to the fact that you found your scripts more interesting than her - but the crux of the sex problem between the two of you was that she thought you wanted too much power over her. She seemed to assume that was the point of potentially tying her up and shit like that: to exert power. To put you and only you in control. To make her into this helpless little toy - and I hate that, she’d said, working herself into a fit, I hate feeling helpless.
You hadn’t pushed her. You’d also tried to justify it in a number of ways. It isn’t about that. It’s not about control. I��m not trying to make you feel bad. But it hadn’t made a difference and she hadn’t believed you and you’d come to the reluctant, inevitable conclusion that that particular dream would never actually get fulfilled.
Until-
“Look at you, baby.”
Until now, when you’ve got Karina stripped bare and tied to your bed, thighs parted as you kneel over her, pretty little cunt glistening wet and tits heaving with every breath as she waits, and waits, and waits.
Eyes half-lidded. Utterly fuckable. A curated collection of every salacious desire you’ve ever had.
“You’ve been looking at me forever,” murmurs Karina, her tone still humorous, like the reason her voice is run so ragged is because she’s holding back a fit of giggles. “You gonna fuck me anytime soon?”
To Karina’s credit, the idea of tying her up didn’t seem to bother her one bit. She’d let you knot her wrists to your bedframe and only grinned sharply when you asked her if it was too much. She didn’t seem to care about feeling helpless or feeling bad. Actually - judging from the wetness that collects on your fingers as you rub two of them over her cunt - it all seemed to turn her on either way.
“You’re so fucking mouthy.” You lift your hand only to ghost it over her stomach, leaving a lewd shiny streak across her skin. “It’s like you want to be punished.”
“Well, you put in all this work.” Karina yanks at the ropes tethering her wrists to the bedframe until they bite so severely into her skin that it turns white. “I’d hate to see it go to waste.”
“Not a waste.”
“No?” She’s got that seductive little smirk on, legs spread shamelessly, head back and throat bared.
“Nope.” Your eyes rove down her body. “It’s a great view, actually.”
You’re shocked by the sound Karina makes, then: harsh and derisive, scratchy and painful, like she’s choking badly around some injury in her throat. You’re half-expecting her to turn her face and spit blood onto your sheets - all murder-scene evidence, horrifically vibrant gore. Coughing up her own vocal chords.
It’s so awful it actually takes you a minute to realize that she’s laughing.
“Karina?” you say, perturbed.
“Oh, please.” Karina hacks out one more horrid laugh. “Cut the shit.”
You draw your hand back uncertainly. “What are you-”
“Come on, man.” There’s a glint to Karina’s gaze as she looks up at you: bored, mocking, infuriating. Irises flashing like the darkest corners of haunted houses, set-ups for a summoning; lashes like cobwebs, self-spun and delicate. “Fuck me or leave me alone.”
For a second you just stare at her, unmoving, something caustic and furious threading up your spine.
And then-
Look, none of this next part is on you. You can’t blame yourself. It’s her - her tiny hands in tight clenched fists, tummy so flat it seems caved-in, hollowed-out; her own glimmer of slick smeared on her belly, physical proof of how desperately slutty she really is. The bruise on her chest; the one on her throat. Her goddamn eyes. Her lazy, lilting drawl, the exact matter-of-fact casualness she’d had last night when she’d told you to hurt her - fuck me or leave me alone.
It’s so obvious what she’s trying to do - provoke a reaction out of you. It’s gotta be the only reason she’s talking to you like that. Like, what else are we here for? Like, what else could I possibly want from you?
So - no, God, it’s not your fault.
But-
It’s over before you can even think about it. Before you’ve even rationalized doing it, before you recognize the sound ricocheting through the room as the perfect violent land of a blow, the hot whiplash of skin on skin, your palm connecting with its target. Before you blink, and recalibrate, and you take in the rapid reddening of her cheek, and her angled jaw, and her hair falling starkly past her chin - it’s too late. It’s already done.
Because you’ve just slapped Karina clean across the face - hard.
“Oh.” You’re babbling as if on autopilot, all your nerves on shutdown. “Oh. Oh, God. Karina-”
Karina licks the corner of her lip, like she can taste the impact.
“Jesus Christ,” you’re saying, panicking; you can’t shut up. You don’t know what to do with your hands; you find yourself kneeling carefully in front of her, cupping her face, stroking her temples with your thumbs like it’ll soothe the sting. You can’t believe you hit her. All the things you could do to a girl like that, and you - “I’m sorry. I didn’t - fuck, baby. I’m sorry.”
Karina blinks up at you, expression placid and blank, porcelain-doll cool.
“For what?” she asks.
You freeze, her face still between your palms. “For-”
But the serene tilt of her mouth makes the words die in your throat.
“Seriously.” Karina’s voice is softer now, a kind twist of mirth. “Isn’t that what you wanted to do with me this whole time?”
Her features seem to fall out of alignment, occurring to you in cut, edited fragments - the baby-animal eyes, the bone-white glint of teeth, the pretty blooming flush of her cheek, blood rising underneath skin but never breaking through. No evidence of a limit breached; she doesn’t wince or wail or cry. She wears the hit so well. She’s smiling. A you-don’t-need-to-be-sorry smile, a you’re-forgiven smile: I’m strong, I’m good, I can take it. Whatever you need. Whatever you have to give.
You blink and Karina reassembles, stitched up at the seams, beautiful and uninjured and intact.
“You want this,” you exhale, a wondrous revelation.
“Of course.” Karina’s shoulders rise as much as they can with her arms so tightly tied back. “You do, don’t you?”
The panic recedes, and something else - something electric and brutal, visceral, intoxicating - takes its place instead.
It’s the way she says it: rhetorical, all-knowing. As if she’s seen exactly what’s in your mind - what repulsive daydreams have settled right behind your ribcage, clawing to be set free - and she’s offering her own body in sacrifice. Saying here, put them here.
So you do.
She doesn’t even look surprised when you slap her again.
“See?” Karina’s chin tips upwards in delicious, submissive invitation: eyes darkly pleased, pale skin a burning wildfire, curled mouth a beckoning. Like it’s been what she’s waiting for, all along. “There you are.”
And when you’re finally able to catch your breath:
Oh, you think, in some exhilarating epiphany. Here I am.
Every single reservation falls out the window. Karina’s smirk slants viciously and then you’ve got your hands all over her, on her shoulders and her tits and her hips and her throat and her face, thumb digging hard into her cheekbone. Any sort of gentle caution is gone when you’re getting on top of her and burying your cock deep inside the suffocating vice of her aching little cunt, half-drunk on the high mewling moans you’re forcing out of her, head swimming at the drenched audible sound of her pussy every time you fuck into her - at how tight she clenches down around your cock. Fuck it all, then, it’s not like it means anything - hurt me, she’d said, running through your head on loop; I want it so bad, I need it, hurt me - and so you do, wrapping a hand around her delicate neck and pressing down, slapping hard against her heaving tits, salivating over the marks that you leave. She doesn’t even struggle. Takes it like a good girl, an obedient girl: something meant to be hit and torn up and pulled apart. A hands-on art piece. A disassembling, made purely for audience consumption; a sign hung around her neck that says leave your mark, that’s the point. You’d been so naïve, thinking of being careful with her - like she’d ever even fucking want that-
“You like it like this.” Your voice sounds raw, almost unrecognizable; your fingers press into the base of her throat. “This is all you needed, huh? You just needed to be roughed up real hard.” Your hand trails up to grip a fistful of her hair, merciless. Karina shuts her eyes. “Like you’re just a slutty fucktoy-”
Karina chokes out a small, wet gasp.
“Oh, baby.” You yank harder at her hair. “It’s okay to admit it.”
But in a way, she already is. Doesn’t fight against the restraints tying her wrists, doesn’t flinch at how rough you’re fucking her, doesn’t whine or blink back tears at the harsh graze of your thumbnail against her nipple. Like she’s a plaything, here in your bed for your pleasure alone. Like-
“Like you were just fucking made for this, yeah?” She comes undone so easily: cunt a wet sticky mess when you reach down to rub her clit, teeth pearly-white where they’re caught on her bottom lip - though nothing can hold back the anguished noise Karina lets out at your pace, the thick stretch of your cock, your palm smacking at her tits over and over. “Look at you. That face, these tits, this little fucking cunt-”
Like it’s her one and only purpose - to have all her fair skin turned searing red and bruised under someone else’s hands. Her cunt just begging to be split open and stuffed full, railed so hard she could break. It’s gotta be what she was created for. She’s more than mortal, so above the concept of imperfection; a nasty little fuckdoll of a girl, meant to be used hard and licked clean. She looks too irresistible all fucked-out and ruined. It has to be in her nature. Made for this, you keep telling her: to be fucked until she can’t walk. To be treated forever how you’re treating her now.
Your ex-girlfriend couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s not about power or control at all.
“You’d really just let me do anything to you, huh?” you murmur, awed, but you’re holding her throat too hard for her to reply.
You fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her. Rub at her clit until she clamps down and cums around you, until you can really get on top of her, force her to hold those huge tits together so you can fuck them. You can’t handle how tiny she is underneath you, her face and her mouth slack with lust, eyes glazed over entirely. She squeezes her tits around your cock. She’s hardly even human. It’s the best thing about her.
“That’s how I know you’re a fucking whore.” Your grin feels wide and manic on your face. You’re gonna cum all over her - again. “None of this even matters.”
And it’s only after - after you’ve painted her collarbone and chest creamy white and let up on her throat so she can fight for air; after you’ve groped her tits and grabbed her face after just to see your cum glistening all over her perfect slap-marred cheeks; after you’ve rolled off of her and you finally leave her alone - that Karina gives you a response.
“No,” she says, hoarsely, staring up at the ceiling. “It really, really doesn’t.”
-
Power just isn’t the right word for it. It’s something much more beautiful than that.
Desire. You’re dozing off, halfway in a sleepy fantasy. You imagine rolling the word around in your mouth, using it in speeches, citing it as an obvious central theme. It’s about desire, you’d say, in interviews, at film festivals, patiently explaining your motivations to the masses. That irrational animal instinct. That innate human greediness. You’ll maybe even throw in some fun anecdote about how people in past relationships never agreed with you. It’s never been about power, though, you’d explain: how foolish, how crude. It’s about the ache of truly wanting something. Isn’t that so much more romantic?
So you’ll make a movie about this one day. So you tied Karina to the bed and slapped her hard and fucked her senseless. Actually, you picture yourself explaining, foggy and on verge of falling asleep: actually, it’s about hunger. Irrepressible, all-consuming hunger. That’s why I did this. That’s why I’ll keep doing it. You’re all like me; you get it. That makes sense, doesn’t it?
And it will, to raucous, riotous applause.
Good. You’ll laugh so hard. You’re dreaming, now; you can’t tell if you’re talking about the sex or the hypothetical future movie. I’m glad you understand. Anyone would’ve done what I did.
Because - honestly - what’s the point of starving yourself of something that’s right in front of you?
-
(Let’s pull back from your script for a second. Here’s a real story:
A few months back you were visiting a museum with one of your friends when you got into this conversation about performance art. He’d told you about a woman back in the seventies who walked into a gallery and laid out various objects and let the audience do whatever they wanted to her for six whole hours. Her as the artist, in title only; herself as the art. A free, untethered canvas.
And what happened? you asked, morbidly curious.
Your friend grimaced. What do you think happened?
It was a rhetorical question. The performance had been a test of what the general public was capable of - a reflection of their moral compass, of what they’d do if left unchecked. The setup spoke for itself. You didn’t have to get all the gory details in order to understand.
Seriously, though, your friend said, about the artist: I don’t know what’d compel someone to do something like that to themselves. He’d shaken his head, baffled. Like - I think it takes a deeply fucked up person to just give up their body like that. Like it doesn’t even matter to them.
It’s strange. It’s an almost universally accepted fact that, at least on some level, artists are inclined to put pieces of themselves into the things they create. A memory; a feeling. Condensing twenty different emotions into a single acrylic painting, or a lyrical reenactment of heartbreak into a song - something personal and unique and lovely. Often inspired, sure, but yours.
I think that’s what’s funny about it, you told your friend, before you realized that funny was a fucked up word to use here. There’s nothing personal about that. It’s so detached. It’s about the rest of the world, whatever they might make of her - it’s not about her at all.
You were both quiet, thinking. Visualizing what it might’ve been like. To be there, one of many in the audience, watching this woman who had thrown herself to the wolves and asked to be ripped apart.
She’s just - material for them to use, I guess, you said, after a moment. A blank page.
Removing her own identity; becoming nothing, no one. A ghost. An empty vessel. A slab of clay, taking on the impression of everyone who’s ever touched her: the ridges of fingerprints, the half-moon cuts of nails, molding her into something new. Even if it took some force. Even if it hurt.
Still, it’s what she’d asked for.
You can’t imagine she’d ever expected anything else.)
-
There’s this fascinating complaint people have about films these days, you’ve found. It’s actually quite the phenomenon. You talk to your colleagues and scroll through social media and read comments on movie trailers trying to get a grasp on it all: market research. This isn’t realistic, people gripe. It’d never sound like that. She’d never look like that. This would never, ever happen - God, are you kidding? Who are they trying to fool? As if they’ve somehow missed the point of fiction - of a sweet, escapist fantasy. As if they’ve convinced themselves that the real world is better.
Which is moronic, obviously.
“So what’s the solution?” Karina asks.
Well, you’re no expert; it’s been a while since you’d finished your last movie.
“But you have an idea,” Karina interpets. She’s perched on the edge of your coffee table, nursing a new glass of ice. She’s watching you with her head at an angle, eyes shrewd. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be telling me this.”
As with most of her guesses about you, she’s right.
“It’s all about the details,” you say, after a moment. “It humanizes a person. Having little bits and pieces about who they are - it makes them alive. Their likes, their dislikes. Embarrassing stories. Things that make them laugh. Diary entries, favorite foods - first loves, first heartbreaks. So on and so forth.” You’ve got one of Karina’s ankles between your hands; your thumb brushes against the bulbous protrusion of bone. “It’s what makes people real.”
Karina’s mouth twists, sharp and strange; it takes a second for you to realize that she’s grinning.
“Oh, right,” she says. “You want me to spill my guts to you.” She pushes her ankle further into your grip. Her legs are just like the rest of her: thin and pale, waifish. Like a nineties catwalk model. “That’s how you’re gonna make me real. In your movie.”
You pull a face, letting her ankle slip from your hands. Spill her guts; what an ugly figure of speech. As if you’re doing something much more invasive and violent than just writing about her.
“Basically,” you agree, anyway. “I mean, it helps that you’re already, you know - a real, whole, living person.”
“Ugh,” says Karina, dry and amused. “Barely.”
You wonder if she’s also thinking about this morning; you, stunned and staring at her cum-streaked hair, calling her unreal.
She’s got a point, in a way. There’s something slightly uncanny about her sitting in front of you, as if she’s been taken straight out of some wildly different scene - some spotlit stage, some movie set, some glossy high-budget existence - and haphazardly edited into your life. You reach out and press two fingers to the side of her neck, like they do on television if they think someone’s bleeding out.
Karina tips her head to allow you access. Her pulse throbs hotly under your touch.
“I don’t know,” you say, smiling at the swanlike line of her throat. “You seem pretty alive to me.”
“Sure.” Her hair tickles your wrist. “But you want more.”
She says it like it’s this given - as if she’s always faced with people wanting more from her. You wouldn’t doubt it, little tease she is. You can picture her in motion so easily. Always running. Letting people pine and plead for more.
“Yeah,” you say. It seems pointless to lie to her. “I want more.”
Karina leans in closer. She reaches up and touches one of your knuckles with the pad of her thumb. Without makeup, you can see the shadows of dark circles underneath her eyes, but even those look painted-on, pre-planned; a study on the aesthetic allure of bruises. She lets her gaze drop to your mouth, then bites down on her bottom lip. Impish.
“Karina,” you say, grinning wider now.
It’s one of those unspoken things: the translation of body language, the transcription of the tilt of her mouth. Then have me, she’s saying, almost certainly - like a swooning melodramatic heroine, throwing herself into your lap, wanting to be saved. You want more? You want me? I’m right here. I’m yours.
“Fine,” Karina purrs, and kisses you again, like sealing a contract. “Take it all.”
-
You don’t fuck her again - not at first. There’s more than one way to take someone apart.
Karina says she’s got a story for you and then she pulls out her phone.
“This was back in high school,” she explains, scrolling back through her photo gallery. There don’t seem to be a lot of recent additions to it; you’d expected selfies, pictures of her with friends. There are more photos of food than anything: plates of pasta and donuts and burgers and pastries piled with whipped cream. It’s cute. It makes you laugh. “When I won prom queen.”
You splutter. “When you what?”
“What?” Karina gives you a bemused, sideways look. “Does that surprise you?”
It floors you, actually. At first you can’t quite put your finger on why, but then you look at Karina again - at her intense dark eyes and pouty fuckdoll lips and the exaggerated pinup proportions of her body - and you realize you’re making that mistake writers often do: buying into archetypes. It just makes sense that she’d be some kind of brooding bad girl. Mysterious, promiscuous; in your creative vision she’s probably cutting classes and chainsmoking in the girls’ bathroom. A favorite of the rumor mill. A pretty little delinquent.
“Wow.” Karina makes a funny noise in the back of her throat when you tell her this. “No. I was - I did fine in school. Perfect attendance, almost. And I can’t stand the smell of cigarettes.” But she doesn’t look offended, either; you imagine people make these assumptions about her all the time. “The prom queen thing - it wasn’t my idea, though. My best friend did all the campaigning for me.”
“That’s sweet.” You watch as she reaches the year she’s looking for. Flashes of her in a sparkly dress with her arms thrown around another girl - a tiny doe-eyed brunette - slide by. In one of them, Karina’s got her head tipped back, clearly mid-laugh; in another, she and the girl have their heads bent close together as if they’re trading secrets, unaware that they’re being photographed. “Well - I think it’s sweet.”
Karina’s fingers stall. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m just saying-” You shrug. “It’s a nice gesture if it’s something you wanted, I guess. Seems like a lot of attention, otherwise.”
“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Yeah. It was - I didn’t get to go to junior prom, so it was kind of - this was - senior year. Senior prom.” Another pause. “Yeah. She did it to make me happy.”
“And did it?” She passes by pictures that fill up with more people: friends with big grins who stick close to her side, wrapping her up in an embrace. “Make you happy?”
“Of course.” Karina’s thumb pauses on a video, the preview dark and unfocused. She says it like she doesn’t even have to think about it. “She was my best friend. She always knew what I wanted. Hey, look at this.”
The video’s of her in the back of someone’s car, prom queen tiara askew on her head, satiny sash falling off one shoulder. She’s yelling, laughing; the sound isn’t on, but her mouth’s wide open and her dark eyes are crinkled to half-moons, creased underneath heavy false lashes and glittery makeup that’s begun to smudge and fade. It makes her whole face look very soft. Young, too - cheeks full and flushed pink with excitement, hair blown-out and everywhere, glossed black. As if she’s having the time of her life.
“How old were you here?” you ask, in awe.
“Eighteen. Just turned, I think.”
“You look-” Like a baby, you almost want to say. It’s true, though. Big brown eyes, scrunched little nose - grinning like the rest of the world hasn’t quite dug its claws into her yet. Skin unmarred and infant-smooth. “You look pretty.”
Karina doesn’t look at you, but you can see the slight, entertained upturn of her lips. All the nasty things you’ve called her - all the irredeemable ways you’ve touched her - and now, inexplicably, you’re going for pretty.
“Thanks,” she says, and clicks the volume up.
“Shut the fuck up,” baby Karina is saying, delightedly. Her voice sounds high, childish and carefree. “You’re so dumb. It wasn’t - it wasn’t even like that, I swear!” She flaps one hand in the air, her nails all short and painted the same rich deep maroon as her dress. “No - you’re just saying that because you’re jealous, you idiot, I know you - you just-”
The person behind the camera says something that you can’t quite make out.
Baby Karina presses one hand to her sternum, pearl-clutching, and gasps.
“I would never,” she admonishes - over-the-top like an actress from a movie - before she throws her head back and laughs.
It’s a startling, wonderful laugh. A little-kid laugh. A mess of wild, unabashed giggles, hiccupy and sweet, so loud and infectious you can hear the other people in the car start cracking up with her; out of frame, someone reaches out to interlace their fingers with Karina’s, waving their joined hands until they smack against the car window and Karina only laughs harder. With her whole body, shoulders shaking and all. Streetlights flashing across her face, making her look sort of blurry and surreal, like something out of a painting.
“Your laugh,” you find yourself saying, stunned.
Karina’s touching the back of her neck, completely engrossed in the video. “My what?”
You don’t laugh like that anymore. That’s what you mean to say. That scratchy, almost painful laugh that she’s been gracing you with since the moment you met her - there’s no trace of that in how baby Karina wriggles with laughter in the backseat of the car until her happy, breathless blush spreads to her neck and her chest. Head tipping back against the seat, like she’s all tuckered out.
“Um,” you say, voice caught in your throat.
On the screen, her eyes fall shut, lashes fluttering so delicately.
You can’t do anything but stare. Brilliant, past-life, prom-queen Karina - grinning at nothing, and sleepy from a perfect night, and laughing as if she’ll exist as this version of herself forever. As if she just doesn’t know any better, yet.
“You,” you start to say, again-
Karina shuts her phone off, and turns.
And you’re about to say something - something about the gnawing, uncertain feeling you get when you watch this former self of hers. It’s on the tip of your tongue. You don’t laugh like that. Something happened to you. For a moment the whole image just seems off - like the way people make posthumous holograms of pop stars, superimpose faces of long-dead actors on stunt doubles. A kind of intense wrongness. A murmured, uncomfortable: that’s not really you, is it? It can’t be. I barely recognize her.
“What?” Karina asks. Her smile reveals her teeth. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Then reality hits you, all at once.
“Sorry.” Your hand finds her thigh. You laugh because you’re being ridiculous - how would you know who she really is, anyway? “I was just thinking - I don’t know. Never mind.”
She seems to take that at face value. You like that about her. How she seems to trust so easily - going home with you, winding up in your bed, staying when you ask her to stay. Giving you whatever you want: her body, her story.
“So,” you say, eventually. “I can put in my movie that you totally peaked in high school, huh?”
Karina snorts. “Yeah,” she says, playing along, and taps her dark phone screen with a clawed nail. “Say it was the last time I was happy.” She pulls a face, like the thought of it is just unspeakably pathetic. “That’s a tragedy if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Shakespearean,” you agree, and let her clamber into your lap. “It’s perfect.”
But you know she’s kidding. You’d like to think that you understand girls like her. They live in a different world than the rest of you - the kind of world where every person on earth looks at them and falls to their feet, falls madly in love. You’ll write about it one day; you’ll feel out the narrative for her, a curious exploration. That rose-tinted life she must flourish in, closed-off and flawless like a snow globe, her spinning and protected in the glass.
“Perfect,” echoes Karina, and kisses you - like she’s proving she really means it.
That’s the reality, here. That’s it. This is all there is.
-
Well, almost.
-
Karina lets you scroll through the rest of her photo gallery, front to back. You take the opportunity, because you’re greedy for as much as you can get.
There’s a lot of photos that are just her, funnily enough - selfies posed in front of the same full-length mirror, over and over again, clad in unholy outfits. Swimsuits, sports bras and little running shorts, lingerie: shit that makes your mouth water, eyes lingering, groaning out loud as she laughs at you. But it’s also her in faded old t-shirts, holding the hem up to expose her stomach. Body angled to the side in girlish sundresses. Hair pulled up, showing off her neck, her gorgeously sharp collarbone - in makeup or out of it, stare intensely focused and sultry.
“That’s hot,” you comment. “Self-obsessed as fuck, but hot.”
Karina smiles - her tiny private-joke smile - and doesn’t say anything at all.
There’s one video in particular that catches your eye. It’s recent, relatively - the date reads late December, last year. Less than a month ago. Christmastime. You click on it, curious.
Karina’s immediately recognizable in it, black hair winding past her shoulders, drowning in a large black sweatshirt. She’s smiling, but it looks sort of tense and tired - bags under her eyes, like she hasn’t slept in a while. She’s got both hands balled up into fists, held close and protective to her chest; her sharp chin rests on her pale knuckles. There’s a tiny smear of red across her mouth, lower lip bitten bloody.
“You just got here,” she says. She’s looking at something behind the camera. “The first thing you wanna do is hear me sing?” She laughs once, scratchy and hoarse. “Why are you even filming this?”
The answering strum of guitar strings, a pretty, perfect chord. An invitation, or a demand.
“You’re kidding.” Karina’s voice is flat.
Another chord - evidently not.
“Wow,” says Karina. Her smile, out of nowhere, goes very soft at the edges. “You just do this because you know I can’t say no to you.”
“What?” you ask Karina now, laughing. “Is this - what is this? Do you - are you really going to sing?”
And then - crazily enough - she does.
“Oh,” you say out loud, adoring, and Karina turns her face into your shoulder.
Her voice in the video is breathy, sweet. Shyly unpracticed, raspy from disuse, completely and utterly gorgeous; lids slipping shut and open again, laugh leaking into her melody line in lyrics about black eyes and kisses and wanting someone who’s just so, so bad for you. But what surprises you more than anything is the look that dawns on her blurry on-screen face - irises sparkling and smile bashful, hiding her mouth behind the sleeve of her sweatshirt, curled up with her knees to her chest. You see now that she’s wearing pajama pants, fuzzy and patterned with snowflakes.
She looks radiantly pretty. She looks vulnerable. And not even in a sweaty, satiated, filthy post-fuck kind of way - actually, genuinely vulnerable. Soft and wide-eyed and tender.
Suddenly, you just can’t tear your gaze away.
“Stop.”
The song’s over. On-screen Karina’s fully grinning now. Porcelain-fragile, but undeniably happy, too.
“I hate you,” she says. “Baby, I really do.”
“You love me,” says the person behind the camera. “You’ll love me for the rest of your life and you know it.”
And in the video - in vivid, fluid motion - Karina laughs.
Whole-hearted, lovely. Familiar. For a moment, you swear she’s still that girl sitting in the backseat of a car with her prom queen tiara on, giggling free and uninhibited, unhurt, untouched. A month ago - less than that, even - looking like she’s coming back to life.
That’s where the clip ends.
It doesn’t change anything, if you actually think about it. It’s just another version of reality. A Karina from a whole other universe, laughing like a child, and so, so far away from whoever she is now.
-
(Back between the lines of your script-
The stranger and the girl drink to get drunk and that’s about it. She reads the label of his wine; he makes fun of her for being a snob. She doesn’t really drink, she says at first, but he laughs like this is a challenge, and pours her a glass anyway. She flushes pink and fidgets around. She seems to shed hair like a cat and he thinks this is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen, picking up thin black strands off of the arm of his couch, teasing her about girls and how they really like to leave their mark, huh?
Leave their mark, she repeats. There’s some trick of the lens here, some sort of strategic camera work - he’s in the forefront and she’s in the background, and she looks so much smaller than him. Why do you say that?
He still had his ex-girlfriend’s perfume in his cabinet. He probably still has some of her clothes in his closet. Not out of any particular emotional attachment, but sometimes this is just the way things are: when you spend years intertwining your whole existence with someone else’s, it’s hard to rid yourself of that connection. You’ve grown into each other’s spaces, tangling limbs and heart lines, putting down roots. It’s gonna take a little force to get them out.
They’re just so much, he says, gesticulating with his hands. And they affect everything in your life, like a fucking infection. And then it doesn’t work out, and you - he makes a wide, sweeping motion here, attempting to encompass the wreckage. You have to fix everything they broke. Purge them from your system and all that. It’s so fucked up.
It’s like this, he means to say - you love someone and then they leave you behind and you’re left staring at the blown-up decimated crater that used to be your life together. You love someone and they don’t love you back and all you have now is the debris.
They’re both drunk. There should be music here and there isn’t. It’s only eerie, too-still silence, suffocating the both of them with every passing second.
Well, she says, laughing, and takes another sip. You and I can agree on that, at least.)
-
It happens like this:
There’s a monologue you want to write.
You tell Karina this after you’re finally fucking her again, when she’s balanced on the edge of your glass coffee table with her legs spread and your mouth slick with her cum. Well - not after, technically. She’s between orgasms and you have your thumb on her clit, tracking the expression on her face, the split-second moment where she comes apart. It’s then when you realize so badly that you want to write some great speech for your heroine - something about the sweat beading on Karina’s midriff and her tits that you can’t stop touching and the jerky movements of her hips, trying to get your tongue back on her clit, panting and delightfully desperate. Something about desire.
“Desire,” repeats Karina, voice halfway into a raspy, worked-up moan.
“Yeah.” You’ve replaced your mouth with your fingers, fucking up into the obscene tight heat of her cunt. She’s trembling, dripping everywhere; she’s the very picture of what it means to want, probably. “But I just can’t figure it out.”
Karina laughs roughly, and then she cums.
“Is that funny?” you ask her, after, when you’re wiping your wet mouth with your wrist and she’s sucking on your glistening fingers, licking the taste of her own cunt off your skin. Her eyes big, lips all full and pink - slutty angel on her pedestal, perched above you. “Me writing about desire?”
Karina lets your fingers free with a loud pop. She’s still clutching your hand close to her mouth, thumb dragging through the sticky gleam of her spit. “No,” she says, eyes distant. “It just reminded me of something. There’s this Anne Carson quote, about men and desire…” She shakes her head. Presses her lips once to your fingertips in a small, startlingly sweet kiss. “It doesn’t matter. Tell me more.”
There isn’t much to tell, truthfully. Except that you’ve got this love for movie lines that are just so utterly quotable - things that make their way into the pop culture consciousness. That’s the kind of work you want to be doing: creating something that has an impact, something that’ll exist long after you’re gone. Everlasting. If you had to pull for an example, you’d say-
“You ever seen Closer?”
“Yeah.” Karina drops your elbow into her lap. “Oh, I get it. He tastes like you but sweeter. Lying’s the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off - et cetera.” She hums the melody line. “So you want an early 2000s pop-punk band to make a song about your movie? Ambitious.”
“More or less,” you say as she shimmies her shirt back down, hem falling back over her midriff. “But like I said, I’m kind of stuck.”
Karina rolls her neck. Her hair is everywhere, sweet-smelling; snapped-off strands decorate your table, looking like cracks in the glass.
“Any suggestions?” you ask, thumb skimming along the pale bruised inside of her thigh.
She smiles, mischievous. “Maybe.”
That’s how you both end up curled on your couch together with your laptop in front of you, Karina’s eyes glued to the movie playing on the screen, watching as the four main characters fuck and flirt and cheat on each other and scream at the top of their lungs. Melodramatic dialogue. How do you feel about him using your life? You’re lying; I’ve been you. This will hurt, which Karina laughs at - as if announcing the pain will make it better, playacting at exoneration.
It’s also - predictably - how you end up fucking again. You barely make it an hour in, and then-
“Hey.” Karina’s breath tickles your ear. She’s already seconds from climbing in your lap already; her thigh is hooked over yours, bare and inviting. “Are you inspired?”
You’re swallowing back a grin. “Sure.”
“Oh. Great.” She’s no actress herself, clearly. She couldn’t be subtle if she tried. “Do you wanna be more inspired?”
And - whatever. It’s a movie about sex. If anything, at least you’re sticking to the theme.
The dialogue plays in the background as Karina rocks her hips down on your lap - you can feel how wet she is again, like she never stops wanting to be fucked. You’re telling her something about how she’s the most insatiable girl you’ve ever met; the sound of the film saturates the room, setting the tone like it knows its purpose. How? How does it work? How do you do this to someone? This big, infidelity-ridden confrontation. Did you phone her? Beg her to come back? Asking him why he falls for another girl, getting this ridiculous answer - it’s because she doesn’t need me.
“Huh.” You smile into the curve of Karina’s neck, already palming her ass. “That one’s funny.”
“Is it funny?” Karina’s sharp jaw brushes against your cheekbone. Her eyes are so dark, shadowed by her long lashes. “I think it’s pretty realistic. People don’t like needy girls. It’s a burden to be loved so hard.” Her tongue darts across her teeth; her smile’s somewhat caustic. “Too much to handle, I guess.”
“What are you talking about?” This strikes you as fairly fucking ridiculous, too. “What men have you met who don’t like needy girls?”
Karina just laughs and leans in for another kiss.
It’s easy to let the rest of the film float away in the background, the lines coming disjointed, unconnected. A spoken-word soundtrack, tone perfuming the air: the angst and pain and eroticism seeping into your clothing. Once in a while you’ll pull back from kissing Karina’s neck or tits or mouth and see a thoughtful little quirk to her mouth. Like she’s genuinely listening, even as you’re taking off her shirt, slipping a hand back between her legs. Where will you go? Disappear. I can’t still see you - if I see you, I’ll never leave you. I amuse you, but I bore you.
“I bet you’ve never felt that,” you say, half into the silk of her hair.
Karina pauses. Her shirt’s on the floor; she’s gloriously naked on top of you. “Felt what?”
“I amuse you, but I bore you,” you recite. You already sound sort of fuck-drunk, far gone. “You’re the farthest thing from boring.”
Back in the movie, the female lead sobs into her fists. Karina studies you, fingertips grazing the nape of your neck. You try to imagine it - her as one of those heartsick heroines, crying herself to pieces, begging a man not to leave her - but you draw an utter blank. Some people just aren’t breakable in that way.
“You’d be surprised,” Karina says, after a moment. “People get bored of me all the time.”
“Oh, please.” Even when she’s the one top of you, you can’t help feeling so completely in control. It’s gotta be the look in her eyes, dying to be obedient. “I bet you have lots of ways of keeping guys interested in you.” You smack her ass hard just to make a mark. “I bet you let them fuck you however they want.”
“Exactly,” Karina agrees, without missing a beat. She moves in close until your noses bump together. Lets her voice go all smoky and suggestive. “Wherever they want, too.”
You open your mouth - probably about to say something very rude about what a dirty whore she is and how you should’ve realized it the second you saw her; I knew it, I know you - but then your hands slip lower and Karina presses her lips to yours and licks into your mouth, over your teeth, making you swallow your words. Filling you up until there’s nothing but her and the movie, playing on.
I think I’ll be happier with her.
You won’t. You’ll miss me. No one will ever love you as much as I do. Why isn’t love enough?
“Romantic, right?” murmurs Karina, sweet against your tongue.
“Shut up,” you say, and grab her by the hair, tugging her off your lap as you stand. “Bedroom. Now.”
Later, you’ll take the time to consider the different ways filmmakers illustrate a power dynamic - it’s playing on your laptop screen right now. The heroine’s sitting on the arm of the couch, clutching desperately at the hero’s jacket. Gorgeously emotional and pleading for another chance, her tiny chin tilted up, eyes so large and watery. Made fragile and fearful by everyone: the protagonist, the narrative, the director, the audience beyond. By herself, even. It’s a stylistic choice - she wants to look that pathetic.
And you-
Well, you’ve got Karina’s long hair wrapped up in your fist, tits bouncing as she stumbles to her feet, ankle knocking hard and horribly loud against the leg of your table. Cute little ass all red from your hand. Thighs shimmering from how drenched she is, cunt dripping from how you’ve treated her. She hasn’t managed to work her mouth into a trademark smirk fast enough: when she looks at you over her shoulder, her eyes are abyss-dark and bottomless, crease between her brows, lips parted in pained surprise.
The definition of pathetic, too - but that’s exactly the point. She’s just so much more fuckable like that.
“Ouch,” you say, touching her hurt ankle with the side of your foot.
“It’s fine.” Karina’s skin feels clammy and cold. Her smirk’s intact now, camera-ready. “I’ve been through worse.”
Her ankle throbs under the pressure of your touch; you still haven’t let up on her hair. You’ll go through worse, too, you think of telling her: a sly comment about how rough you’re about to fuck her, what vicious marks you’re about to leave. How you’re gonna hurt her exactly like she asked you to.
You don’t say a thing.
She must already know all of that, anyway.
-
So, Karina’s not breakable like the helpless, weepy, soft-hearted girls in the movies - but that’s alright. She’s breakable in much more enticing ways.
Case in point:
“Oh, get real, baby. Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
Well, breaking someone down doesn’t really get better than this.
It’s all a scene of your own making, a perfect pre-arrangement. You on your bed, Karina limp and bent belly-down over your lap - you in control and Karina as the most impressive toy you’ve ever gotten your hands on, creamy ass and needy cunt and skin that turns bruises to artwork. You’re goading her and failing - trying to get her to just admit to what she is, what a filthy slut, what a nasty eager fuckdoll - but it’s hard to get a response when even breathing seems to be a chore for her right now. Every noise out of her mouth is nothing but a gasping, choked-out whimper. Her face is buried in her forearm, hidden. And through the shine of lube dribbling down your hand and her ass and into the sticky wetness of her cunt, you’ve got two fingers stretching out her little asshole - and you’re just getting started.
“I know you fucking need this.” Your other hand slides up her back, slips to tangle in her hair. “You’re just too good at it.” You pull hard, wrenching her head from the crook of her elbow. “Too good at being an obedient fucking whore for me, huh?”
Karina’s whole body stiffens when you fuck your fingers deeper, as if tugged taut on a string: the flex of her feet in the air, shoulder blades straining, neck craned back almost painfully. You pull harder. It’s a buzz at the base of your skull, live-wire thrilling: the knowledge that you can yank her into whatever position you want - fuck her anywhere, work her ass open with your cock, fill her up with cum - and she’s just going to have to take it. Like she’s this pliant, powerless thing. Like she’s yours.
Your self-satisfaction seeps right into your voice. “Answer me.”
You hear Karina gulp down a breath. “I,” Karina mumbles, but she can’t do anything but babble. “I - fuck-” All teeth-clenching nonsense; she shoots a baleful glance over her shoulder, desperation clawing its way into every word. “Please-”
Your fingers pause. “You want more?”
Her cheeks are splotchy and pink; you swear there are tears wobbling in those big dark eyes. The heavy arousal in your stomach turns to violent hunger, as though your mouth could start watering at any second. You can’t help it. The thought of seeing her cry is fucking exhilirating. “You - oh-”
“Answer me. You want my cock?” You’re waiting for the breaking point. “You want me to really fuck your ass?”
“Fuck-”
But that’s not a proper reply and Karina knows it, so she doesn’t protest when you pull your glistening fingers out of her and smack your palm hard across her ass. Once, then twice, and then you just don’t stop. She yelps like a hurt animal - trembles uncontrollably, her thighs and her shoulders and her quivering bottom lip - and makes a sound in the back of her throat that might be a sob, but she still lets you hit her: gives into the harsh crack of skin on skin, over and over again. Listens as you tell her that she deserves this, that she wanted this, that you’re making her into a good girl and this is what good girls get when they’re too cock-hungry to follow orders or answer a fucking question, you know that - you know I’m this rough for a reason. It should hurt. It’s so much more fun that way.
“I’ve been too fucking nice to you,” you mutter, teeth gritted in an effort to hide your grin - as if you even need to. It’s obvious how much you enjoy this. It’s the point. “That’s the problem with girls like you - you never learned your fucking place, huh? Never really been punished for anything?”
Karina mumbles out something unintelligible, slurring from her drooling mouth to the sheets.
“Yeah.” Your hand comes down again - she flinches just before her body goes slack. “That’s what I thought.”
And after you’ve spanked her so hard that her fair skin is ravaged and raised with goosebumps along the slope of her back - her whole body in revolt - you finally, finally stop.
Karina doesn’t budge except to breathe, and even that releases shallow, unsteady. You read it all in the shaky lift and fall of her thin shoulders, her hands in white-knuckled fists, her face pressed to your sheets and hidden - her hair coats everything, all ink, all words written but left unsaid. She shivers beneath your fingers. Her cunt’s dripping all over your lap. She’s a masterpiece. She’s a wreck.
You’re filled up with thick, swollen pride. “Karina.”
Karina. Your own personal creation, transformed under your touch. Might as well have your name carved into her, too. A brand right across her back, slicing through tissue, scarring to seal her fate - this is who you fucking belong to.
“Poor baby.” You follow the sharp ridges of her spine, tracking notches, keeping a tally: counting how many times you’ll hit her, how many days she’ll stay in your bed. How many movies she’ll let you make out of her, being your brilliant muse for decades. “It’s painful when you don’t listen to me, huh?”
But then - inexplicably - you think of her bruising ankle. Her twist of a smirk, detached and humorless. I’ve been through worse.
You’re abruptly glad you can’t see the look on her face.
“Come on, sweet girl.” You dig the heel of your palm into her lower back, half a warning. “Pull it together.”
Between the strands of glossy hair tumbling over Karina’s skin and your sheets, you spot a reddish mark on the back of her neck. Like the impression of a thumbprint, small and round. Blurry enough in the dim light that your brain starts conjuring up strange theories; an old wound, maybe. A birthmark or a burn, a childhood injury.
You graze her shoulder blades with your fingertips, exploratory. She feels so small draped over you like this, a tiny wet wisp of a girl. A doll.
She still hasn’t moved.
“Karina.”
Nothing.
“Karina,” you say again, suddenly uneasy. Your hand stops. “Are you-”
For a few terrible seconds, you can’t even hear her breathing.
But then Karina shifts. Slow, sensual, deliberate. Pushing herself up off your lap, arching her back, the slick pucker of her asshole obscene from where you fucked it open with your fingers. Her bruised knees dig into your mattress as she straightens up, and her gorgeous pale face seems to glow in the midday light - heavy dark eyes, bitten-pink mouth, black hair curtaining her cheeks like a frame to a portrait.
“You,” you start to say, feeling suddenly like you’re looking at her for the first time.
“I’m really sorry,” Karina murmurs.
She doesn’t look close to tears at all. She’s so unfazed, as if having her ass spanked punishingly raw is something that happens to a girl like her on the daily. A run-of-the-mill occurrence - a consequence of having a body like that, made to be brutalized. She’s already reaching towards the nightstand for the lube.
“I just wanted it so bad I couldn’t think straight,” Karina tells you, with erotic-film certainty - reciting all the lines that’ll make her seem the most insatiably slutty. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her lips form a pout; she leans down to press them to the tip of your cock, all sweet and demure, like she thinks she needs to convince you. Eyes flicking up at you through her thick lashes, molten-hot. “I should’ve listened.” It’s only a breath, warm and torturous. “I deserved that, I know.”
Your hand winds tight in her hair. You want to force your cock down her pretty throat, make her gag and choke over her simpering apologies, spitting up your cum until it trickles down her chin, her tits, her tummy. Both a game and a power play: prove how sorry you are.
Karina pulls back before you can, and holds up the lube.
“Babe,” she says, the term of endearment almost a singsong - a lilting reminder. “I thought you wanted to really fuck me now.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tits heave as she moves, crawling closer, offering herself up. “And I always get what I want, right?”
You feel drunk with power. You forget that this isn’t supposed to be about power. You watch as Karina coats her palm with lube and pumps your cock, her fingers slick and hot, her veins starkly blue at her delicate wrists. Expression delighted at how hard you are, pink little tongue poking out between her teeth - seduction down to an art form, meticulously calculated.
“With me?” Her smile burns. “Obviously.”
You pull her in by the neck to kiss the smirk off her mouth.
It’s interesting. There’s this other thing regular critics and moviegoers have been saying about films these days: sex scenes need to have a purpose. Some sort of coherent motivation. Strip your lead actress down to nothing and get her keening and moaning and you’ve got to explain it away somehow. It forwards the plot, you could insist, pitching it to producers and directors. It does something for the character dynamics. It’ll draw in just the right audience, the ones dying to see their favorite celebrity debauched and getting dirty on-screen - they’ll see it over and over just to get a taste. Isn’t that enough? To satisfy the masses? Isn’t that why we’re all here?
Because otherwise all people are staring at is a play at pornography: useless half-convincing make-believe. The heroine can writhe and whine and arch her back all she wants. Everyone knows she doesn’t feel anything.
“Tell me the truth.”
Oh, if you two were a movie - you don’t know how anyone could justify a sex scene quite like this.
It doesn’t matter what artsy angle you take. It all comes down to the same unforgivable details: Karina face-down ass-up on your bed, the perfect bowed curve of her spine, the depraved wide stretch of her asshole around your cock - the sweat shining along her shoulder blades, the hard smack of your palm against the red raw skin of her ass, your other hand at the crown of her skull with your fingers wrapped entirely in her tangled hair - her cunt fucking ruining your sheets, wet all the way down her thighs, each brutal shift of your hips sending her little body into full-blown shudders-
“Tell me that you fucking love it.” Your hand slips lower until you’ve got her pinned down by the back of the neck, fingers pushing down: a grip she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. “Whoring out your slutty little ass like this for a stranger. Getting on your hands and knees for me just because you’re so fucking needy for cock, baby - don’t even try to deny it, you’re so wet, nasty fucking girl-”
You just can’t stop yourself. It’s so easy. She really is so fucking pathetic. Too fragile to get free - too easily manipulated and manhandled. Trembling and drenched and giving way as you make room inside her, forcing space. She’s just so tight - it’s godless, how you make your cock fit in her lube-slicked asshole, how she moans like a bona fide bitch in heat over it: needing faster, needing harder, needing more. Cheek pink and pressed hard to your mattress, sharp nails digging into the sheets rough enough to tear through the fabric. Giving herself up to be fucked cruelly and stupid and senseless.
Like she’s a real-
“Natural fucking cockslut, huh?”
Look, seriously - you can’t be held accountable for the things you say to her here.
Because when you say shit like you’d just let me do anything - like you’d let me fucking tie you up and keep you here forever, be an eager fucking cumdump for me whenever I want you, I know it, I know you - that’s just the moment talking. The circumstances. The pretty arch of her back and the drooling wetness of her cunt and the indecent tightness of her ass, conspiring to make you lose your mind mid-fuck - that’s the whole reason you even tell her any of it. You think you’re good for anything else? Right at her ear, your body covering hers, your cock buried deep. You’re not. Just made to get this slutty ass fucked open, and your mouth, and your cunt - this is all anyone’s ever gonna want from you and you know it - better get used to it now, baby. This is all you got. This is all you are.
It’s Karina’s fault, really. She just takes it - all of it. She doesn’t even try to fight it.
“But that’s okay,” you murmur, as she gasps and squirms and cries out like you’re killing her. “I’m still gonna make you cum.”
And with your cock filling her ass and your hand between her legs, slapping hard at her sopping cunt until she can’t do anything but collapse - shaking, shattered - her whimpers fucked-out and drool-soaked and bleeding into one big nonsensical mess, everything about her used and ruined-
“You’re mine,” you tell her, laughing as she falls apart. “You get that? You’re mine.”
-then, you do.
When it’s all over, Karina rolls over to face the wall, breathing hard. She’s slick everywhere, sweat and saliva and lube, your creamy cum dripping out of her well-fucked asshole and trickling down her thigh. You trace her lower back and grin at the way her skin seems to give into you, turning pink with a press of your fingertips. You’ve come to realize you adore her like this, the fugue state after you fuck her: utterly dead to the world.
Like she could become a permanent fixture in your bed. Too tired to move. Too tired to ever leave.
“Mine,” you say again, softer.
Karina doesn’t argue.
It’s basically all the confirmation you need.
-
So, really, if you two were a movie-
It goes like this: life can imitate art, too. It happens all the time. The line between fiction and reality blurs together until it’s indistinguishable - until you can’t tell where the fantasy ends, or if it ever did at all.
-
(It goes like this: the heroine smiles sleepily and tells the hero he’s the best she’s ever had. You’ve seen this film before. The movie stars with their fake on-screen fucks might not feel a damn thing, but at least it’s still fun to pretend.)
-
Also, the mark you saw on the back of her neck isn’t actually what you thought it was.
“It’s a tattoo,” you realize out loud, drowsily awed, brushing her hair away so you can get a better look. You’re both tuckered out, an inevitability when you fuck like you do; you’re seconds from dozing off. Karina’s looking away from you, on her side to escape the soreness of her ass, sheets loose across her chest. She lets you touch her wherever. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that before.”
“You don’t know me,” mumbles Karina, half into your pillow. “It’s not your job to notice anything about me.”
The tattoo’s crimson-red, all delicate linework. It really does look like it hurts: like someone painstakingly cut the shape into her skin. It’s of a heart, rendered in anatomical detail - valves and ventricles and arteries. It’s beautiful, you realize belatedly. Bright instead of faded, and obviously cared for. Lovely.
The only permanent stain on her perfect body. You press your thumb against the ink, fascinated.
“What does it mean?” you ask, but Karina’s already fallen asleep.
-
(In your script, the girl and the stranger watch some gory crime show, except they don’t pay very close attention and he tugs her into his lap and makes her ride his thigh. The episode they’ve got on is about a serial killer who murders so-called sinners - liars, adulterers, the like. Slaughters them like sacrifices, cutting their throats with vicious efficiency. Fake blood drenches the screen with every crime scene: a form of fucked-up baptism, a psuedo-religious cleansing.
The girl’s putting on an equally decent show on top of the stranger: head thrown back, eyelids fluttering, high-pitched little moans. He sinks his teeth into her shoulder and keeps watching the TV.
Hey, he says, a murmur against her skin, a close-up on his mouth. You’re a sinner, right?
She’s got her hands on his shoulders, hips rolling. Sure am.
How do you think this guy would kill you?
He thinks this’ll shock her, but she doesn’t even pause. Like he kills all the rest, she says. Like an animal.
I think he’d be more careful with you, the stranger muses. You’re too gorgeous. He’d have to use, like - a scalpel, or something. Something cleaner. Something that’d keep you intact.
It’s no use. Nothing he says seems to scare her. Her eyes are far-off, almost glazed in recollection. Like she’s thought about it too - her own untimely end. Her own vivisection, skin flayed and organs visible, viscera and bone. There, hold the shot: now the audience can consider it with her, ponder all the ways she could be torn apart, all the repulsive things they could do with her desiccated body. All the ways flesh can warp under a human touch: the blue-black yellow-green purpling of bruises, a whole palette on one tiny girl. There’s value in that, isn’t there? There’s something intimately, incomparably beautiful in suffering. There’s art.
Isn’t that why everyone’s watching?
I get it, the girl says, still soaking his thigh, smiling as if it’s an inside joke between them. You want me dead. That’s been obvious since the moment you met me.
I don’t want you dead, he says, and grabs her by the jaw. I just want to fuck you.
Okay, she says, uncaring, like there’s barely a difference. Fine. Whatever you want.
They don’t turn the TV off. They let the characters scream and bleed out in the background; he fucks her like she’s got a death wish. It’s funny - he expects her to get louder the harder he fucks her, ruthlessly working over the tight clench of her cunt - but she keeps getting less and less responsive, as if he’s pushing her little body into some sort of trance: expression vacant and blank, body limp and lifeless, mouth open and speechless. It makes him angry. Give me something, he’s saying, frustrated, clawing at her hair: baby, it’s not fair, it’s no fun like this. The on-screen shrieks aren’t enough - he wants it from her. Actually, he keeps saying he needs it - as if fulfilling desire is on the same level as food or air, as if he’ll drop dead in seconds if he doesn’t get her sobbing. He gets his overlarge hands on her face and starts contorting it, pushing her mouth open, her eyes wider, his fingers down her throat until she spits and gags and chokes. Oh, the audience will love this one: it’s reminiscent of those filthy exploitation films with their cult followings, so cleverly referential. Look at her pathetic and pinned down. Look at her helpless and struggling. Think of your favorite on-screen murder scenes, and then think of this.
Anything I want, the stranger reminds her, yanking back her hair as she drools down his wrist. You asked for this, didn’t you? You said anything I want.
Except now the girl can’t say anything at all.
This moment will start rumors, invite horrified scandal the same way some purposefully marketed horror movies are passed off as snuff films - that really went down, they really died like that. This scene’ll get a similar response. Did he actually fuck her? Did he actually hurt her? Did everyone - the writer, the director, the crew, the captive audience - actually just stand by and let that happen?
Sure. Or she might just be a really, really good actress.
There. The stranger’s murmuring to her now, watching her manufactured expression, watching the tears fill her eyes. There you go. There’s my girl. And she is his, she really is - transformed into something all beautiful and new under his clumsy fingertips, molded right into art. The camera will zoom in close on her gorgeous, cadaverous face, a perverse little gift for the audience: here, have this, take a look. She’s all yours now.
There’s something to be said here about the manmade link between sex and violence - inescapable, brutal, primeval; bodies in all shades of red - but he forgets it the second he touches her, and she’s being fucked too hard to remember.
Maybe they’ll get to it next time.)
-
AND WE'RE BACK!!!!!!!!!!! <33333
all my luv ever to @capslocked @worldsover @passingnotions @braaan for beta reading my dumbass shenanigans and also for being the best ever I LOVE U!!!!!! AND ANYONE WHO IS READING THIS I LOVE YALL TOO.................. PART 2 COMING SOON!!!!!!!!!!!
#kpop smut#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#idol x reader#idol x male reader#reader insert#karina smut#karina fanfic#aespa karina smut
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Teacher G!P Karina fucking her favourite student in her office for flirting with a girl in her class
Recording you while you’re a moaning mess so that she can blackmail you with it later
Inviting you over at her house so that she can fuck you dumb and fill you up with her cum.
Making you lay down on her bed as she sucks on you small tits :( She thinks they’re the cutest tho.
parings: gp!teacher!rina x fav student!f!reader
warnings: readers implied to have smaller tits, blackmail, ass slapping, cumming inside, dumbification, toned it down with my explanation points😭, this was made at like 5 am so it’s not proofread😭
think i might change into a black&white themee
okay so you’re like the popular girl at school, also known to be flirty with almost every pretty girl you see. even if you were in class which is how you ended in this situation.
“f-fuckk!! i’m sorry, karina!! im- ah!” you couldn’t even form a sentence, you’re getting fucked stupid by your teacher for getting caught flirting with your fellow classmate.
you looked like a mess, were in karina’s office leaning on her desk drool seeping out your mouth with tears rolling down your rosy cheeks. your school skirt was pulled up to reveal your bruised ass cheeks, caused by karina, which was behind you ramming her cock inside your tight cunt.
“should’ve thought about that before you were all over that girl, pretty.” karina grunted.
she gave another smack against your ass making you cry out even more, you were such a whiny and moaning mess for her how could she not take up the opportunity to record your pretty moans?
“ka-ri-karina!! i’m cumming!!” you squealed out, body shaking as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arching even more.
“cum for me, my pretty girl.” karina whispered, fucking into harder than before, feeling her own high.
you finally came all on her dick, cum dripping on her floor and covering her cock, squeals and whines heard from you from your intense orgasm.
suddenly she pressed you down to her desk, head even closer to her phone picking up the audio. whimpers and cries spilled outta your mouth from the overstimulation on your cunt but you couldn’t do anything, she was pressing your spent body to her desk.
“ah- almost there pretty. take it all like a good girl!!” karina grunted, head fallen back as she let her moans spill outta her mouth from how your warm cunny was squeezing her!
karina would lowkey use that blackmail wisely, making you such lewd things by having you suck her off or letting her cum inside and telling you to keep it in the whole day! :((
she’d randomly invited you to her house but could you really say no? so you agreed, wearing a miniskirt with a crop top and drove to her house.
thinking abt when you get there she’d open the door and get right to work, she was wearing nothing but a sports bra and some boxers, rock hard dick visible. she’d drag you to her bed and immediately throw you on it, straddling you and undressing you.
once she undressed the two of you she immediately started pounding into you, making you yelp as your body began to rock from how hard she was fucking you!!
she would think your tits are sooo cute! tweaking them and suckin on them as she fucks you dumb, making you cum all over her pelvis!
it would be hours until she stopped, you were soo braindead you just let her use your body until she was done toying with you. your tits were so sensitive from her sucking you jolted everytime she tweaked them :((
#ningvory#kpop smut#g!p#aespa smut#wlw smut#aespa x fem reader#karina smut#karina x fem reader#aespa karina smut#♡.nabi’s asks#♡.nabi’s anons#♡.karina
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bite me — yu jimin.
summary: reader's favorite time of the year is halloween, her favorite mythical creatures are vampires and her fuck buddy, karina, has a developing biting kink.
cw: g!p idol!karina. vampires. aphrodisiac. rough sex with rina. pussy slapping. dirty talking. no condoms. dom!karina.
halloween was long far done, but to you, every day was halloween. i mean, it is your favorite time of the year; anybody could be anyone. you can be a sexy doctor or nurse, a slutty firefighter, a cheerleader, hell, you can even be a fucking vampire. everybody could wear whatever we want with zero judgement and that's what you liked about halloween best. but i honestly you won halloween 2023. you were so committed to it, you even got vampire fangs. crazy? maybe, but your sexual partner loved it best. she only saw it online, but still, who's crazier between the two of you?
karina had been away for a few months for their tour and unfortunately, you weren't together last halloween, but she's now home for the holidays, and it wouldn't be karina if she didn't have anything prepared for me when you got to her apartment. the moment you walked inside the pad, all you could smell was the enticing scent of a dark, elegant and sexy perfume—it was scented candles. it was all over the hallway, as if forming a path for you to walk through. just a few steps away from me was her table and there was a glass of wine atop of it with a note which read, “come straight to my room after you're done with this.” you took your time with the wine, but as soon as you were done with it, you went straight to her room which you didn't have a hard time looking for.
there, karina was sitting on a single couch, a leg crossed over the other. she looked stunning with her black jeans and tight crop top that hugged her beautiful frame. “took you a while since i heard you enter.” she said as she got up from the couch and slowly walked towards you. “it's been a while.” she whispered, face close to yours. she looked so pretty but you started feeling lightheaded and moreover, hot. “karina, why the fuck do you have your ac off?” you asked to which karina only laughed at. she took another step closer, and another, until she pushed you in her bed.
“oh, sweetheart. still as gullible as the first time, aren't you?” she smirked as her index finger traced your chest down to your cleavage through your black lace top. her touch brought shivers down your spine, moreso when she ripped your top open. she was scaring you as you've never seen her like this. “the wine... did you put something in it?” you muttered, biting on your lower lip to bite back the whimpers itching to escape as her fingers played with my nipples. karina smirked, humming. “smart girl, why, is it taking effect already?” you blushed and sure enough, it was. your body was aching for her. instead of replying, you pulled her into a hungry kiss, one arm snaking around her neck as if locking her body close to yours, whilst the other roamed around her body, eventually taking her top off, leaving the both of you now topless.
you felt karina run her tongue along your lips which you then parted and let her in—your tongues danced, fighting for dominance, but you both know she'd win. you can feel yourself get so turned on and wet through your panties just by the kiss. “rina, i need you.” you whispered when she brought her lips to your jaw, tracing the kisses down your neck. she didn't reply, she instead used her hand to cup your womanhood through your panties under your skirt, eliciting a long moan from you. her hands feel so soft against you, you needed more.
moving your hips, you started to hump her palm, palming myself as she kissed your neck, nibbling on patches of your skin to mark her territory. “you enjoy this, don't you? look at your slutty waist, moving on its own.” she chuckled lowly against your ear before pulling away only to take the remaining pieces of clothing off your body. your nipples are so hard and you could already feel your wetness dripping down your cheeks. it's the first time you felt so horny, so needy and all you could think of is her— you wanted her.
“karina, please. i need you. fuck me, mhm? i'll be good. please.” you said as you reached out to hold her. karina only slapped your hands away and roughly spread your legs. she got in between them, her knee pressed against your cunt. you mumbled another profanity and karina's face got closer to you. she only stared at you; “move.” she commanded and you instantly knew what she meant— your hips automatically moved on its own. as if rubbing your clit against her thigh wasn't enough, karina started to slap your mounds alternately. it was too much, your moans started to get higher with every slap. as your skin gets redder with every slap, karina's smirk grew wider—even more when she took notice of the fangs you've had done.
knowing your mounds are already sensitive, karina pulled you in and put one of your nipples into her mouth, licking, sucking and lightly nibbling on it as she played with the other with her hand. karina felt your body shiver, and with one hard suck, your body collapsed on top of her. “you love being a slut for me, mhm?” karina whispered against your skin, earning a loud, whining from you as a response. karina, she thinks—no, she knows she owns your body. she knows it even more than you do, so it wasn't hard for her to know when you're already close to cumming. not saying another word, she used her free hand to palm your clit, making you bury your face against her neck, but the moment she slipped two fingers inside of your hole swiftly which pushed you over the edge, cumming, biting karina's shoulder. she winced it pain, yet groaned from the painful yet pleasurable feeling of your sharp teeth against her soft skin. “rina, rina—!” not even letting you compose yourself, karina started to thrust her fingers in and out roughly of your entrance. collapsing on top of her, pushing her over the bed, your body wiggles, pushing your bottom more against her fingers, grinding against her palm.
“t-that feels s-so good—fuck. more, please! mommy, please, more.” it was the nickname that sparked something in karina. she pulled her fingers out, rolling your bodies over. now with her on top of you, she kisses you on the lips, letting her tongue graze over the sharpness of your fangs. “wait here.” she says as she pulled away, leaving you breathing heavily and still, needy. you started to play with your nipples, tears forming your eyes as you grind your hips against the empty space karina was once were. rubbing your clit, you moaned out her name, and as if on queue, karina was back, naked and a lubricant on her hand. “naughty girl, who told your to touch yourself?” she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, as she opened the bottle of lubricant, smearing some over your sensitive clit, the coldness of the gel making you shiver. hovering over your torso, her dick sticking out, poking against your mouth. “suck.” with sparkly eyes, you looked up at her as you opened your mouth and took her in. you sucked, licking along the tip of her cock, earning a low grown from karina. “mhm, you take me in so good.” she said before thrusting her hips, forcing her full length inside your mouth, deep throating, suffocating you. she pulls herself back, a string of your saliva and her precum trailing from your lips and her tip.
“karina, i need you to fuck me, please.” your voice was weak and shaky, almost sounding like you're about to cry, but it was just from karina teasing her tip against your clit and your entrance. “yeah? beg for it.” karina laughed menacingly while you could only while as you reached your hand out for her, the other pressing her length against your cunt. “rina, baby... mommy, please. please, please! i'm your good girl, please, fuck me.” karina loved it. she loved hearing your voice so needy, she loved looking at your desperate eyes, she loved that you were so desperate for her and only her.
karina didn't waste any more time and slid her length inside of you, making you arch your back while letting out a long, loud moan in pleasure. karina didn't move, letting you adjust to her length, but she let out a chuckle of amusement as you desperately reached your hand for her, eager to hold her—touch her, as if her body's not against yours just yet. karina started to roll her hips, making you wince yet moan out in both pain and pleasure. god, you were so wet for her and karina loved that atop of it all. with or without the fucking drugs, the both of you knew that only she can make you this fucking turned on. karina started to thrust in you, moaning your name every time her length completely disappears inside your cunt. her dick is so big that with every thrust, she hits every fucking spot possible and it's making you insane. you feel so lightheaded and nothing but senseless begging and chants of her name spilled out of your mouth.
“fuck, baby, you're so wet.” she groaned, slapping your cunt in between every word, each slap making you squeal louder and louder, eyes rolling back. “c-close... i'm soso close, rina!” you announced so fucking loud, karina had to cover your mouth with her palm. “cum with me.” she only replied, putting more force into her thrust, each thrust feeling slower yet so much deeper as your walls clenched around her length. karina used her free hand to rub your clit, heightening your pleasure. forcing yourself to open your eyes, you looked up at her through your lust filled eyes as you brought her hand to your neck, choking yourself with it as you get closer to your high. karina took the initiative to do so, making you smile, biting your lower lip and holy fuck. in karina's eyes, you looked the hottest lile that. god, that stupid vampire fang of yours.
feeling a familiar knot forming, karina drops and pushes her mounds against yours, letting your nipples rub against each other. “cum inside—inside! please, i want to feel you, rina! breed me. fucking breed me, please, please—!” through your moans, you managed to beg for her. at this point, karina could only think so little, she wanted you. she wanted you to have her and nobody else. “i'm cumming, baby—fuck. cum with me...! fuck, i'm cumming!” with your face buried onthe crook of her neck, you wrapped your legs around her waist, not wanting her to pull away, chanting her name along with strings of profanities in between your moans. soon enough, the both of you are cumming—karina shooting her load inside of you at the same time you clenched your walls around her length, making her groan out loud. with your teeth dug on her neck, leaving a mark, karina threw her head back, moaning your name in pleasure, whilst your body squirms and trembles under her.
heavy breathing and whispered profanities were shared as you both laid next to each other. "you're mine, understand? you're all mine." karina muttered as she kissed your lips, hands once again roaming your body. "one more."
hehe, this took a while. i got so sick during the holidays, so i couldn't really post it. anyways, happy holidays, my kitties!
#kyna writes#aespa#aespa karina#karina#aespa smut#aespa karina smut#karina smut#girl group smut#kpop smut#gg smut#gxg smut#girl group x reader#aespa x reader#aespa gp#g!p aespa#karina g!p
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The After School “Student Entertainment” Club
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Also available on AO3!
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Yu Jimin’s favorite part of the day is when school ends. Of course, it’s not just her—it’s also every other student. All of Jimin’s classmates prepare to leave, and the chatter in the classroom grows louder and louder while the teacher attempts to call out something about the homework due at the end of the week. Only a few students give the teacher some form of a reply—most of them are buzzing about the new game release, their holiday plans, and for some, their after-school club activities over the upcoming holidays. Bit by bit, the classroom begins to clear, and Jimin waves bye to a few of her classmates as they leave, a wide grin across her face. She packs up at a leisurely pace, enjoying the afternoon breeze that blows through the open windows.
“What’s up, my fellow Sex Ed bud—ow!” Uchinaga Aeri tackles Jimin with a huge back hug, her arms wrapped around the Korean girl’s body in a tight embrace. Before Aeri can finish her sentence, Jimin elbows her friend in the tummy, panic all over her features.
“Shhh!—Shut up, Aeri! Don’t say that so loud!”
“What? There’s no one else here now, and you and I both know that ‘Student Entertainment’ is just a front to cover up that we’re having se—Ow! Stop it! Stop!” True enough—the classroom is empty now, but Aeri still has to let go of Jimin to defend against her strikes. Both girls begin to giggle after, and then they wrap each other in a tight embrace before Jimin takes her bag to leave for the clubroom with Aeri.
—---—
The “Student Entertainment” clubroom is nothing short of lavish—private school budgets and rich members, all two of them actually, will do that. It’s a big room, complete with gaming consoles, a large wall-mounted TV, a big couch that folds out into a bed, bookshelves, and tables and chairs to study. There’s even a bathroom and shower attached. Not many know of what goes on between the four walls, and the lesser anyone knows, the better. Between Jimin and Aeri, this “Student Entertainment Club” is nothing but an excuse to have sex in school whenever they want. It’s kept on the down-low, of course, with only a select few knowing the actual purpose, but for all intents and purposes, it’s the school’s official Gaming Club with a fancy name.
When the door to the club room closes, the girls’ habits take over. Aeri flips the switch for the lights, and Jimin switches on the air conditioning. Both girls drop their bags onto the chairs at the study table, and instantly, Jimin’s pulling off her blazer. Aeri has her hands busy with undoing her tie and unbuttoning her blouse, Jimin following suit after she lays the blazer on top of her bag. Button by button, their blouses fall open to reveal their bras, and those are the next to go. Jimin folds her clothes nicely in a pile on the desk, while Aeri just shoves them into a pile haphazardly. Both girls undo their skirts and push them off their hips, and Aeri is the first to be fully naked after pulling her underwear off as well. Jimin takes her time folding her skirt and panties, and she unties her hair too, letting it cascade down her back and shoulders. Jimin and Aeri now only have their knee-high socks and shoes on.
“We’re done for the term, babe!” Aeri runs and wraps Jimin in a tight hug that Jimin returns. They’re pressed intimately close to each other, just the way they love it—physical affection, clothed or unclothed, is nothing new to them. However, Aeri’s not one to resist her mischievous impulses—she reaches down and gives Jimin’s ass a squeeze, which draws a groan of exasperation from her friend, knowing Aeri’s penchant for mischievous teasing and touching. However, Jimin’s smiling when she pulls back.
“Wanna celebrate?”
“Oh, of course, babe.”
Without wasting a second, Aeri leans in to press her lips against Jimin’s. Both girls share soft pecks before Jimin deepens the kisses—she begins to nip at Aeri’s bottom lip, her hand reaching up to cup Aeri’s head, pushing her into the kiss. Her other free hand glides between their bodies, and she palms the Japanese girl’s left breast, giving it soft squeezes. Aeri doesn’t just let Jimin have her way too—she’s reaching around to softly fondle Jimin’s ass once more, which draws soft moans from her partner. Both girls enjoy the pleasure of the other’s sensual touch, and their kiss only gets hotter—Jimin’s tongue glides across Aeri’s in a show of deep lust and affection, and when they separate for air, strings of spit bridge the gap between their tongues before dripping to their cleavages below. Jimin looks at Aeri with a lustful grin as both girls pant softly to catch their breath, and she whispers softly, “Get on the table for me, Aeri?”
“Anything for you, baby~.”
“Shut up.” Jimin laughs, and Aeri giggles. The Japanese girl walks over to the table, and she lifts herself onto it, her chest jiggling as she makes herself comfortable. Jimin watches, pure want dripping from her gaze as she steps closer, and she bites her lip when Aeri spreads her legs wide open for her as she gets closer.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, Aeri.” Jimin’s pussy throbs when her eyes land on the sight of Aeri’s creamy pussy. It’s her hottest feature, Jimin thinks—that Aeri gets all creamy and messy when she’s turned on. Her pussy throbs at the thought, a rush of slick flowing to stain the skin of her thighs as she feasts her eyes on her partner’s body. “You’re so wet.”
“All because of you.” Aeri winks, and she pulls Jimin closer, arms wrapping around the Korean girl’s body. “I bet you’re absolutely dripping for me too. Can’t wait to taste you.”
“Who says you have to wait?”
Jimin reaches between their bodies, her shaky breath brushing against Aeri’s lips as she runs a hand all over her core. With a grin, she raises it to Aeri’s lips, her fingers glistening with her slick.
“Taste me, Aeri.”
Aeri makes a show of it—she dives in and licks Jimin’s wet palm from bottom to top. However, her gaze doesn’t leave Jimin—she stares deep into the other girl’s eyes as she collects her juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it. She licks Jimin’s palm and fingers clean, swiping her tongue over and between each finger as if they were delicacies, before softly moaning in satisfaction at the taste. At this point, Jimin is almost feral for her partner—her cunt drips fresh slick as she thinks about what she wants to do to Aeri.
“All clean, babe. You always taste so good.” Aeri smirks at Jimin’s lustful gaze, her hungry eyes raking over her nude body as if it was fresh meat. The Japanese girl spreads her legs even wider, shifting back onto the desk as she plants her feet firmly on the surface. “Eat me?”
Aeri watches with bated breath as Jimin bends over the desk, head between her legs, her hands palming the Japanese girl’s meaty thighs. Jimin looks up at Aeri, her eyes burning with lust as she plants a soft kiss on her right thigh, then another, then another. She takes her time leaving a trail down her thigh, her lips drawing closer and closer to Aeri’s creamy sex. Every soft breath Jimin releases brushes against Aeri’s skin and leaves her wanting more. Jimin’s hungry eyes don’t help either—Aeri adores eye contact during sex, and Jimin always abuses it during their sessions. A fresh wave of creamy slick flows from Aeri’s pussy, down her skin, and Jimin giggles.
“So needy already?”
“Shut up, babe. You know what happens when you look at me like that,” Aeri whines, “It makes me so fucking wet and you’re still teasing me!”
Jimin doesn’t offer a verbal response—she smirks, and she deliberately plants more kisses down Aeri’s thigh. However, when her lips land right next to the Japanese girl’s labia, Jimin deliberately leaves kisses right around Aeri’s core, just shy of where Aeri wants her to be. Aeri squirms under Jimin’s touch, and she attempts to buck her hips, to brush her core over Jimin’s mouth. However, Jimin pulls back, a soft “No, no, no” stopping Aeri’s efforts. Jimin takes her time with her partner—she starts leaving a second trail of kisses down Aeri’s left thigh now, and the girl beneath her groans in both arousal and frustration.
“I swear to God, Jimin, if you tease me one more time…”
“Should I, Aeri?” Jimin’s smirk only annoys Aeri further—she’s in the palm of Jimin’s hand, so to speak, and she can’t do anything about it.
“If you fucking do it, I’m going to—oh, Jimin, FUCK!”
Aeri never finishes her sentence. In the midst of her distraction, Jimin’s hands glide over Aeri’s thighs down to her core, and she spreads her partner’s labia wide open. She then forcefully licks up the entire length of Aeri’s slit, from the base all the way up, ending at her clit, and she wraps her lips around it to suck on it softly before she begins to tongue Aeri’s hole, lapping at the fresh, creamy slick that leaks from her cunt. Jimin moans as she tastes Aeri’s juices, and she stimulates the girl beneath her even more—her tongue glides over Aeri’s folds, right over her entrance, again and again, all while she thumbs her clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub, drawing broken moans from the girl beneath her.
Aeri writhes and squirms atop the table as she plays with her breasts, kneading and palming the flesh between her fingers for more pleasure. She can’t stop staring at Jimin between her legs, eating her out so fervently, and she moans when Jimin begins to penetrate her with her tongue, the slick muscle slowly gliding deeper and deeper into her.
“Fuck, eat me, eat me, Jimin!”
And eat Aeri she does—Jimin’s tongue laps at Aeri’s walls as more and more slick flows from deep within her cunt, and she continues to rub circles on Aeri’s hard clit. Aeri’s pleasured moans fill the room as she watches Jimin wreak havoc on her body, their eyes meeting once more. It drives her crazy—Jimin looks so hot between her legs, her tongue deep inside her cunt, rubbing against her walls, and the wet slurps that emanate from below only serve to arouse her further. The constant pressure on her clit has Aeri moaning even louder—Jimin is relentless in pleasuring her. She continues writhing and twisting on the table, her legs wrapped around her partner’s head now, over her shoulders, hips bucking and thighs flexing on hard swipes across her clit.
“Fuck—fingers, Jimin—mmph, please—”
Without missing a beat, Jimin’s lips wrap around Aeri’s clit while her middle and ring fingers slide into her hole. The sudden penetration has the Japanese girl squealing in surprise, and she thrashes about as Jimin begins to softly suck on her clit while she thrusts her fingers in and out of her partner. A sheen of cream coats her digits, and Jimin grins when she sees how messy Aeri is. White slick drips down all over the tabletop beneath her, and it stains her thighs as well. Jimin loves how messy Aeri gets during sex, and it only turns her on more as well. She wipes her lips and face clean with the back of her other hand and licks it off her skin, smirking at the taste.
“Fuck, you’re such a messy girl, Aeri.”
Aeri whines at the loss of pleasure—a talking Jimin is a Jimin that isn’t pleasuring her with her mouth. A much louder whine leaves her lips when Jimin pulls out of her, thick strings of Aeri’s cream clinging to them.
“What the fuck, Jimin?”
“Shh…” Jimin raises her wet hand—Aeri’s juices drip down her skin, and she laps up the excess flowing droplets with her tongue. The Korean girl steps between her partner’s legs, and she raises her slick fingers to Aeri’s lips.
“Suck.”
On Jimin’s command, Aeri wraps her lips around Jimin’s fingers. She sucks on them, tongue sliding over the digits to collect her arousal, clean them of her juices. She moans at the taste of herself, and Jimin grins lustfully as she watches. When Aeri releases her fingers, Jimin immediately replaces it with her lips, and she penetrates Aeri with them again, fingering her while they make out.
“God, Aeri, do you know how much you turn me on?” Jimin’s hot breaths brush right against Aeri’s lips, and the Japanese girl gasps in pleasure as Jimin expertly finds her G-spot, gently rubbing her fingers against the patch of flesh. “I love how wet you get for me, all that cream leaking from that messy little cunt when I finger you, when I eat you out. Shit, you get me so wet when you cream like that for me, fuck!”
Aeri almost complains when Jimin pulls away from her, but it’s cut off by a long moan when Jimin presses down on the flesh of her abdomen, right over where her fingers are inside her. She traps Aeri’s G-spot between her fingers, and she thumbs the Japanese girl’s clit once more while rubbing and poking against the patch of flesh inside her, and Aeri thrashes and writhes once more, the combined assault too much for her.
“No—Haah, Jimin—Mmgh, Jimin, I—please, Jimin, you’re—Haah!—No, stop!—I’ll cum, I’ll cum!”
Aeri’s broken moans only make Jimin wetter. Copious amounts of slick leak from Aeri’s hole, and Jimin takes the chance to add an extra finger into the mix, stretching her partner out just a little bit.
“No, Jimin, fuck—you—FUCK!”
With a loud scream, Aeri’s hips buck, and a deluge of her juices gush out of her, all over Jimin’s wrist and arm, flowing beneath her. The table is a mess now—puddles of slick rest between her legs on the polished wood, and the overflow splattering all over the floor. Jimin continues fingerfucking her convulsing partner as spray after spray of her squirt drenches her arm, the table, and the floor. Some of it even lands on Jimin’s breasts, and she sighs in arousal—Aeri cumming so hard for her only makes her drip down her thighs even more.
When Aeri comes down from her high, falling limp on the table, Jimin takes the chance to climb atop it to straddle her partner. She kneels right above Aeri’s head, putting herself on full display for the girl beneath her.
“Oh my God, Jimin… You’re so wet…” Aeri breathes.
“All because of you,” Jimin echoes, mirroring Aeri’s words from earlier. “Eat me.”
“With pleasure.”
Aeri isn’t like Jimin—she doesn’t tease at all. When Jimin lowers herself down, Aeri’s tongue is already lapping at her partner’s thighs, cleaning it of the excess slick. Both of her hands reach to knead the soft flesh of Jimin’s ass, just like earlier, and she takes her time pleasuring the Korean girl now, her tongue gliding over wet folds, teasing the dripping entrance. Jimin moans loudly above her, her hands reaching to play with her breasts, kneading her own flesh between the gaps of her fingers and pinching her nipples for more pleasure. Aeri’s tongue continuously teases Jimin’s clit and hole, occasionally penetrating deep into her to taste her dripping slick. Both girls are moaning now: Aeri in satisfaction, Jimin in pleasure, and the Korean girl grinds down on the girl beneath her, making a mess of her mouth and chin as more and more slick flows from deep within.
“Oh fuck, Aeri, god, your mouth, fuck, you always eat me so well, fuck!”
Jimin rests her hands on the tabletop behind Aeri’s head now, and she begins to use the Japanese girl’s mouth like a toy. She grinds down harder, chasing her own high with her partner’s mouth and nose, messily rubbing her core on any part of Aeri that she could. Aeri eats it all up—she tongues what she can of Jimin while one free hand of hers shifts between her legs now, two fingers plunging deep into herself. Both girls masturbate together, with Jimin using Aeri’s face and Aeri with her own fingers. Louder moans fill the room now, both of pleasure and satisfaction, mixed with the wet sounds of oral sex and masturbation.
“God, Aeri, I’m gonna cum soon, I’m gonna cum all over your face, I’m gonna squirt all over you, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Mmlph, mmgh, hngh!”
Two sets of broken cries ring out in the clubroom. Both girls reach their peaks together—Jimin convulses atop Aeri, one hand of hers reaching below to rub her clit as gush after gush of squirt spills over the Japanese girl’s face, hair, and breasts. Every brush of her clit and pinch of her nipple only adds to the pleasure, and every spray only serves to drive Aeri crazier. She drinks what she can of Jimin, and at the same time, Aeri’s hips buck again beneath Jimin, spray after spray of squirt and cream exploding out of her as she orgasms once more. Both girls make a mess of the room and of each other at their peaks, gasps and moans of pleasure filling the air as they ride out their highs, the satisfaction washing over them throughout the experience.
When both girls come down from their highs, they climb off the table, Aeri helping Jimin down. Immediately, they’re kissing again, but this time, it’s soft and chaste. When Aeri breaks the kiss, she grins. “God, that felt so good.”
“Mhm,” Jimin nods, grin mirrored on her face. “Thanks Aeri, you’re the best.”
“Aww, getting soft on me, buddy?” Aeri doesn’t pass up the chance to tease Jimin, as usual.
“God, fuck off, Aeri. Let’s clean our mess up and shower.”
Aeri pouts in jest, but she’s immediately grabbing Jimin’s hand as they leave for the bathroom to grab the cleaning supplies.
“Let’s stay back and order in! There’s this Netflix show I’ve been meaning to watch…”
#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#aespa smut#aespa giselle smut#aespa karina smut#karina smut#giselle smut
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sick and twisted || stepsibling g!p winrina x virgin!freader
notes: making a comeback. sorry anon for the long ass delay, but i also merged it with another ask bc i thought it would work well together. do NAWT ask why i took so long- i was going thru it 😭😭
cw: porn with plot, stepcest/pseudo incest, noncon -> dubcon, g!p dom winrina, virgin!reader, corruption, use of cuffs, oral (giving), blackmail, biting/marking, creampie, gagging, degredation, slapping, family issues, arguments, mentions of divorce.
wc 3.9k
if you told jimin and minjeong that they would have another step-sibling in their life they would scoff at you, then laugh and say that’s not possible… then scoff in your face again.
yet here they were moving into another house their father bought for you and your mother.
isn’t that fun?
jimin, the actual biological child, was born and raised with a hot headed mother and poor excuse of a father. living with the two was hell for her, dealing with her mothers bull shittery almost every damn day.. and the absence of her father always led to her mother lashing out at her and never him. longer down the line of their shitty marriage, the father decided to pull the trigger and divorce her for good. maybe it was money issues? maybe it was something else? jimin didnt like to pry and she was glad she left it like that.
minjeong was the child of a broke, whorish and shitty woman. the marriage between jimin's father and minjeong’s mother actually lasted quite a while… to their surprise. who knew another horrid woman in this rich fuck of a man’s life would actually do some good to the both of them.
they ended up acting like they knew each other from day one- like i kid you not, they were inseparable. even after the divorce of their father and mother they still stayed together, obviously choosing their dad because god that man was rich as hell and they knew that they could use some privilege from it. not only that, but for some reason their dad loosened up a little, he actually became a much better person and worked on his self improvement, unlike minjeong’s mother who stayed a cheating BITCH … no wonder why their father divorced her sorry ass.
but beside the point. jimin, minjeong and their father arrived at the new mansion. somewhere secluded and somewhere breathtaking- only because your step father really thought your mother was the one and only woman for him.
jiminjeong, without prior notice to their fathers new found wife, and no knowledge of the womans daughter, were left shocked when they saw the two of you enter through the mansion’s doors.
your first impressions weren’t good at all… your mother looked and acted like- guess what?!! a bitch… and you? you seemed pretty decent at first, so jimin and minjeong didn’t really care. yeah, unfortunately they didn’t click with you, but they thought that they should give it some time. you were unfamiliar with the new environment and they knew it would cause crazy anxiety.
—
a couple months into the family and you and your mother finally started to act comfortably around the rest. it didn’t take long for you mother to start acting up though- frankly she opened up too much, as in, she started to become more and more of an asshole as the months went by. at first it started as simple requests from your step father. she would go around the house demanding him to buy this and that. her ego grew… and when i say grew, it inflated actually. nothing could stop her from being a prick, and unfortunately she influenced you to act like the same way.
she had a plan- she really didn’t love your step father. instead she was really just into it for the money. and of course, you knew that plan from the beginning. as much as you didn’t like your mother, the plan wasn’t half bad- deciding to stay with her was the right choice, well you thought so anyways. anything for money i guess.
the workload he had stressed your step father out so much and your mothers constant requests for money really didn’t help. berating him almost every day, sometimes she would go so far to the point of him having to lock himself in his office just so he could avoid her.
only 6 months of living together and she’s already driving him crazy? jimin and minjeong looked at each other in disbelief, surely you wouldn’t join in on the disruptive behaviour… right?
oh they were so wrong.
YOU-
you wanted the plan to go well too… you needed that cash. fuck your mother and everything, that cash meant more than your strained bond. you wanted it for yourself, so now it was your turn to fuck around and be a dick head.
doing everything in your power to get money from your step father, like your mother did. it started out all simple and sweet.. you know like casually asking for allowance, and since he was rich as fuck, allowance was usually something around 2k per ask. racking up the money somewhere in your room for yourself, you didn’t realise jimin and minjeong were staring at you through the crack of the door.
jimin carefully lowered herself to minjeong’s height, making sure you wouldn’t be able to hear an utter from her. whispering in her ear “what a waste… she’s pretty but she’s a money stealing prick”
somehow minjeong was calm about it, thinking you were just stashing it up because she knew you were previously broke. she’s been in that same situation, showing some sort of empathy towards you “i mean.. she hasn’t done any bad yet… well i hope she never does actually. i hope she’s not like her mom”
jimin scoffs “i doubt that”
the sound of something dropping on the floor caught their attention, you’d dropped a bag of some sort. their hearts beating out of their chests thinking that you had caught them watching you. thankfully you didn’t, uttering under a few curses under your breath and nothing else. sighing in relief, they had back to their respective rooms and called it a day.
that was until they heard you shouting downstairs after a couple of hours.
“fuck you mean you can’t give me any more money. aren’t you supposed to be my dad? you know, someone who cares for their children and shit”
jimin woke up first, creeping into minjeongs room and shaking her awake “…mmm… huh? what’s up”
“don’t be surprised, but i think y/n is arguing with our dad… told you she was like her mom”
sneaking their way downstairs, tiptoeing so they wouldn’t be heard. they notice their dad hunched over in the couch, his hands covering his face in.. anger? or sadness. they couldn’t tell.
“GOD- fuck you’re such a shit step dad… you know what fuck you” the step father being on the verge of tears, the way he balled up his fists, the way his face was red hot and the way he was biting down hard on his lip, you knew it was was working and you knew you were such a shit person for it, you were growing heated too- for some reason. mothers genetics you could say.
“you couldn’t keep your first wife, and you couldn’t keep your second wife?! and now you’re going to lose your third all because you can’t provide for your family like the good man you are.” you laughed in his face and clicked your tongue “ahhh it all makes sense now. you're a miserable excuse of a father and a poor excuse of a husband. you’re rich as hell i dont know why you can’t give me anymore money…”
“i-i.. i’m trying my best you know y/n” voice cracking “i’m doing my best to keep the family together… i just want us to be happy”
“yeah well you’re not doing a good job now are you? hell, you’re also a shitty example of a man too. go ahead and write those divorce papers. i’m sick of your shit”
with that, you walked back upstairs, jimin and minjeong running back up trying not to get caught.
you’d struck a nerve in them, witnessing you berate their dad knowing that he’s a changed man, made them vexed. jimin had been peering at your face, an obvious crease in her forehead and in between her brows made it obvious that she was planning something sick. minjeong had a cold and blank scowl.
they both gave each other knowing looks, a smirk on both of their faces… whatever they had in mind was not morally right, but they couldn’t care less.
—
sleeping soundly after the whole argument, glad that you could possibly get something out of it by the time you woke up, you failed to hear the sound of your lock being picked open.
jimin creeped towards your bed, gritting her teeth as she tried her very best not to punch you in the face. utter disgust was the one thing she was feeling, looking at you made her grimace. she found you pretty at first glance but after she witnessed you tear down her dad, her vision was shattered. even if she wanted to beat you up, she couldn’t, she wanted to defile you first. with shaky hands, she lifted the thick bed sheets off of your body, carefully stripped you out of your clothes and gazed at your naked body. she lightly slapped her cheek, you looked good bare but she didn’t let that take over her… yet.
she hooked your wrist onto the bed frame. the cold icy feeling of the cuffs latching onto your left wrist made you stir in your sleep, yet it wasn’t enough to wake you up from your deep slumber.
minjeong had the job of writing on you. depriving your humanity by writing objectifying words on your bare stomach. words such as ‘slut’, ‘filthy whore’, ‘gold digger’, were written across your stomach, thighs and legs. if it wasn’t humiliating enough, she took pics just for safe measures. it was horrible, yes she knew that.
she thought how genius it would be to draw an arrow on your lower abdomen pointing down towards your pussy, the words above saying ‘use here’. giggling to herself as she snapped another pic.
the flash from minjeong’s camera startled you. waking up grumpily asking “what the fuck is going on” as you tug on your arm, only to realise that you’ve chained to the bed.
first thing you noticed was minjeong’s camera pointing towards you, bright flash blinding your eyes “fuck- shit, this isn’t funny. turn the camera off” the chains on the cuff rattling as you attempt to pry them off “guys… this isn’t funny… take it off”
second thing you realised was the lack of clothing. the chilly air hit your body, goosebumps forming on your skin. the warmth of the blanket was no more and the intense humiliation began to seep into your body.
thirdly, the writing on your stomach and legs as you look down analysing the situation.
“you shouldn’t have said that earlier. the disrespect you have… yu y/n you’re disgusting” jimin spat at you, her gaze turned towards minjeong who then nodded. afraid that they would kill you right on the spot, automatically you started to sob out pathetic pleas
“listen, shit- i’m sorry. i was desperate okay… he should’ve given me the money anyway- cut me some slack, it was only a one time thing. you know, me and my mom rea-“
a hand flew to your face “shut the fuck up” she left a red stinging mark on your cheek- well deserved. minjeong gritted her teeth, she didn’t want her dad to wake up to another argument yet alone waking up to his two kids fight his other kid “this picture i took.. do you want this to be uploaded everywhere?” rapidly shaking your head in denial. the image in question was so vulgar, your legs being spread apart while the words ‘use here’ were pointing right at your pussy, it was truly horrible. minjeongs lips tugged upwards, biting back a snicker only because she wanted to seem serious and mean about this- oh and also because the image violently turned her on.
“n-no… delete the pic- please i’ll give the money back and apologise… just.. don’t upload it anywhere” hiccuping while hot tears streamed down to your chin.
“poor you” jimin added on “no one can help you now.. do as you’re told” her tone was sickening to hear.
it clicked and you felt disgusted, the knowing look that they had.. body language showing that they were about to ravish you. it was gross.
your tear stained face shifted into a dreaded look. feeling jittery, your eyes widened as both of them slid down their boxers, revealing their cocks that sprung up.
“…you guys are sick…” there’s no way in hell that they were about to do this. but here they were, approaching you as you attempt to free your wrist from the cuffs again “get away f-from me… you sick fuckers” minjeong sprang onto the bed first, holding your legs open as you try to kick away from her grasp. curses and shouts left your mouth, but they were useless since jimin wrapped her hand around it.
there was no use in fighting back. you gave into their heinous acts even if your body was rejecting them. no one was there to help you anyway. even if you called for your mother, she wouldn’t give a shit since she only cared for herself from the very beginning.
jimin, who stood beside you, pressed her cock against your face. you could feel her throbbing as she placed it on your cheek, the hard thing felt slimy and gross- you denied her as she tried to forcefully shove it in your mouth, which ended up with her slapping it around your face like you were some common whore “open up, unless you want those pics of you online” of course you didn’t want that- those posts would ruin your reputation, your self esteem. it would ruin you.
mentally screaming in your head, you open your mouth wide, feeling her thick cock enter your mouth slowly. jimin let out a long sigh, savouring the feeling of your tongue at the base of her cock- “a-ah.. you’re taking me whole? you slut” moaning out as she steadily rocks her hips back and forth “you should- mm fuck.. really use this m-mouth just to take dick, don’t you agree jeongie”
minjeong, who was stroking her dick in between your legs, nodded her head. fixated on the way you took jimin’s throbbing cock easily down your throat. she watched you with keen eyes, keeping her gaze on the way your lips parted and wrapped around her shaft while also listening to the gagging sounds you made everytime jimin hit the back of your throat.
having more of a moral compass in comparison to jimin, she felt a little bad for you- but couldn’t help getting off to the view in front of her. she grinned, a very fucked up grin you could say. grabbing her phone again, she pressed record without you noticing- being so caught up with having dick stuffed in your mouth. spreading your lips apart, pointing the cameras and zooming in on your soaked pussy “you really are a whore- getting wet from this.. you should’ve said you wanted this from the beginning y/n. or were you too much of a coward to ask” slapping your pussy repeatedly, earning a few muffled moans.
putting the phone down minjeong slipped her hard cock inside of you, skipping the condom and everything.
your pussy was tight, almost like a virgins… wait- “god, don’t tell me you’re a… you’re a virgin?” a sick and twisted smile crept upon both jimins and minjeongs face. and the way they got harder hearing that news further implicated that they were morally fucked up in the head “mmm… fuck, you’re so tight that i can barely move… y/n ah- ngh..” by trying to push her dick further into you, it caused you to scream out in pain and pleasure- the sensation of her throbbing cock filling up your virgin pussy felt alien, yet so good. thankfully you were soaking wet, and the precum slathered around minjeongs dick helped it slide in much easier than it should have.
“nmghh hurts… hurts-” you manage to say between breaths, voice muffled by jimin's cock still being pumped in and out of your throat. minjeong couldn’t care, extracting her anger out on your pussy, stretching it wide open for her own sick pleasure. she scoffed,
“not so talkative now, are you?” she mocks, her hands gripping the sides of your hips, nails digging into your flesh as she jolts her hips which caused her tip to ram into the entrance of your cervix. fuck.. and it hurt like hell. never being filled up by something so large, your eyes begin to roll back, and you begin to scream around jimin's cock.
both of them showed absolutely no mercy, using your body as if it was a toy for their pleasure. being used in such a way made you feel heated, your stomach tightening as they continue to force themselves into your holes.
minjeong moaned out, her nails digging deeper and deeper into your flesh, almost breaking it. your tight cunt clamping down so hard on her cock threw her into a frenzy- she observes your face with hearts in her eyes, she never felt this powerful before, god… even her movements sped up- there was a husky rasp to her moans, it even seemed animalistic.
and there was jimin, gripping your hair in a messy ponytail just so that she can ruthlessly fuck your mouth. with the amount that she was tugging and pulling on your head, you could assume that your head was throbbing in pain- assuming anyways, because you were feeling strangely good that you most likely ignored the pain.
as planned, they continue their assault on you. pussy already stretched out and abused, and your jaw began to ache.
enough of that jimin thought. although she enjoyed your warm throat, mouth and tongue working magic on her cock, she couldn’t forget that this was your punishment. the palm of her hand pushed your forehead, prompting you to lay back down, head meeting the soft pillows. you fell with a light thud- now due to the fact that you had nothing in your mouth to keep you quiet, and the way that minjeong was still pummelling into your pussy raw, you had no other choice but to cry out loud… not in a ‘save me, help me!’ way, it was more like a “fuck, fuck- mmnngh… w-wait- feels ah..!?” type of way.
jimin looked at her younger step sibling. she knew minjeong was too heated to even think about the punishment. she clicked her tongue in annoyance.
minjeongs fingers made their way to your clit, toying and rubbing with the sensitive nub. it only pushed you to moan even louder, the first time you’d have someone play with your clit.. waves of pleasure washed over your body causing you to wriggle around. seemed like jeongie was a little pussy drunk, actually no, she was pussy drunk. every pound forced your cunt to the best fucktoy for her. at this point her sweat dripped down from her temple to the side of her face with how fucking fast her hips were going.
jimin stood for a moment- thats when it struck her, another great plan came to mind. she kneeled on top of your bed, making it creak a little, shuffling a little closer to where minjeong was positioned, she whispered something sinister into her ears.
“get up-“ jimin ordered with an authoritative voice “stand up y/n” you winced, hissing out in pain as minjeong carelessly pulls her cock out with a little-
“mmm.. now? oh yeah, okay…” jeongie thankfully takes the cuffs off. thank god she did because the pain from the hard ass metal had you rubbing your wrist, a slightly deep and red mark sat on your skin.
“y/n, stand up” jimin ordered once again.
coughing out, voice hoarse “…fuck no… n-not gonna”
“still talking back?” minjeong sneered. now both of them are pretty strong- being able to toss you across the room for shits and giggle.. but not so much shits and giggles when you’re forced to stand up, seized inbetween jimins strong grip, both hands around your bare shoulders. she momentarily gawked between your legs, she snickered-
“lowlife stealing bitch and now a whore even though you were a virgin… you honestly deserve this” all at once her dick pierces your cunt, her erratic movements earning a guttural moan that came straight out your throat. following jimin, minjeong came from behind, lifting your leg into the air so that she could make room for herself.
“don’t…!? you’re gonna b-break me- i can’t fit both in me.. wait, please pleaseplease anything but this- please!?!” teasing her dick at your entrance, basking in the feeling of your wet pussy again. jimins thick cock was bigger than you’d anticipated- but having minjeong’s in your cunt as well would surely leave you unable to walk. not like they cared…
ramming both at different speeds caused you to lose control of everything. unable to adjust to their length, your hands instinctively search for something to grab ,because really.. who can function normally with two girthy dicks stuffed inside of their virgin pussy.
if one of them pumped in, the other one pumped out. an endless stream of violent railing that turned your brain to mush. beyond saving, and beyond speech- nothing more than gargled moans and incoherent mumbles fell from your mouth. so, so intense that you felt like your body was giving in-
being dehumanised and degraded and only made for jiminjeongs use. you hated that you learned to love it.
jimin threw her head back, her mouth agape moaning at how stuffed your pussy was and how much of a cock slut you were. hips snapping each time she felt like you weren’t reacting the way she wanted. huffing each time she felt close- her plan wasn’t completed yet and because of that she had to restrain from shooting her load into your womb.
minjeong bit down on your shoulder, marking you everywhere she could- only because she could take a couple more pictures later and use that as blackmail and definitely not her own personal use. she nuzzled herself into the crook of your neck- leaving dark bruises scattered across your nape.
you wrap your arms around jimins neck “feel- feel weird… haa.. mmngh-“ you squeezed your eyes shut, your body tensed, you heard the two of them pant in your ear, jimins low moaning reverberating in your head and minjeong high pitched whimpers suggested that they were as close as you were.
“take it- fuck,, take it all you filthy whore” jimin snapping her hips as she fills your entire cunt with her semen. not even a second later, minjeong ejaculates as well, she squeals and bites into your neck, both hers and jimins legs shaking from the harsh orgasm. you follow in their pleasure, letting out a strangled moan, head slumping backwards into minjeong as your body falls limp.
they leave you afterwards, letting you lay weakly on the floor “what happens here, stays here. if you tell anyone we’ll know.. oh and those pics will be posted” walking out the door as if nothing ever happened. and yet you’re laying down on your carpet cunt filled up with a mixture of their semen leaking out.
hmm… guess you’ll have to piss them off again. who knows what they’ll do to you.
HELP IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS? THOUGHTS????
#wintersera#cw: noncon#cw: stepcest#aespa smut#aespa x fem reader smut#g!p aespa#g!p winter#g!p karina#aespa karina smut#aespa winter smut#kpop smut#girl group smut#kpop girl group smut
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i beg you write playing with karinas boobs please please please
now... karina being the most likely to enjoy getting her boobs played with in aespa let's talk about it!! btw reader is the 5th member of aespa :] also karina has an unnie kink i don't make the rules
it doesn’t come as a shock to anyone to say that karina has pretty big tits, like let's all be real for a second wbk. she's obviously very aware of it too, and isn't at all afraid to wear revealing clothes and such, she wants to flaunt that gorgeous body of hers as much as possible and tbh? as she should! you could even go to the extent of saying that she's pretty much obsessed with herself with how much cleavage she shows on a daily basis.
even when she's fingers deep into herself, her other hand tends to fixate on her chest area the most, groping and gently pulling at her nipple as she quietly moans into her own pillow.
no seriously, she would die for her own tits you do not get it.
so, hearing the other girls compliment her innocently in regards to that? oh it brings her a feeling that can't even be described with words. especially when the one giving the compliments is none other than y/n.
she knew y/n liked staring at them, whether it was in public or not. at an interview, an award show, a livestream? it truly did not matter. she stares at them whenever and wherever, and karina's aware of it. she likes it, even; it brings her a sense of... superiority, observing how the other girl looks at her, with such admiration, such curiosity. it drove her insane. y/n could say something as trivial as "jimin unnie i'm so jealous, how do they sit so well?" and it would get said girl inexplicably riled up. no seriously, the honorific does things to her every time.
so when karina has the opportunity to be alone in the dorms with y/n? oh she makes sure to very quickly take it. doing things like wearing extra tight clothes (sometimes barely any lol), not wearing a bra, etc. she takes this shit very seriously and is absolutely set on making y/n worship her tits!
now of course, the latter isn't stupid. she catches on pretty quickly that karina is practically in heat for her, and who is she to not give her unnie what she wants?
bumping into karina and groping her 'by mistake' before noticing how the older girl blushes at the situation, her breathing getting slightly heavier. seeing that, y/n starts teasing her about it! (well yess as you do, of course)
"oh, i didn't know you were like that, jimin unnie.. what a pervert. you wanted me to do that, didn't you?"
AND THEN SHE NODSSS?? it's quite literally over for her, there's a pool growing in between her legs already, she's getting hotter by the second and you're blatantly staring at her chest right in front of her. what else is she supposed to do in this situation?
satisfied with her unspoken answer, it doesn’t take long for y/n to slide her hands up the other girl’s shirt and… oh well would you look at that she isn’t even wearing a bra! but then again, after hearing karina repeatedly whisper something along the lines of “please touch me.”, she kinda figured that the older member wouldn’t waste time in putting on something as useless as a bra.
at this point?? her shirt is OFF, her bra is ACROSS THE ROOM, and she’s sitting on the couch getting marked up BY HER FELLOW MEMBER.
this is all she could’ve ever wanted, of course, the only thing that would possibly made it better would be to have the rest of the girls watch and potentially even join in, but that was unfortunately reserved for another day. for now? karina was perfectly content with being groped by her dearest member.
y/n, on her end of things, is in a whole completely world! (what a loser LOLLL amirite) seemingly put into a trance by the sight of her leader’s bare tits before her, “fuck unnie, they’re so.. so pretty.. and so soft.” as her fingers gently trace around her nipples, grazing her thumb against one of them. and the sounds karina let out in response to that? music to her fucking ears.
y/n wanted to make her scream. and she might’ve, with how each one was louder than the previous at every movement she made.
but she wanted it louder.
she wanted to make her leader feel good.
so, with no warning whatsoever, she settles her mouth right on one of karina’s nipples, sucking at it gently whilst still groping and massaging the other, the girl’s moans fueling her to continue roaming her tongue all over, sloppier and messier with each second that passes.
“mmh— y/n… t-that’s right, make your u-unnie feel good baby—“ is what karina says as she rubbing the back of y/n’s head and looking down at her. the sight of her closing her eyes, licking and sucking on her boobs like this… making such a mess… practically drooling on them while also gently twisting and playing with the other nipple… it all felt too good. and to top it all off? being praised for her undeniably smoking hot body as she’s getting her tits marked up all prettily?
it wouldn’t be completely insane to say that she cums just from that alone.. right?
#anon asks#anon#kpop gg#smut#female reader#yoo jimin#yoo jimin smut#aespa smut#jimin smut#karina scenarios#karina aespa x female reader#aespa karina smut#karina smut#jimin aespa#yoo jimin x female reader#yoo jimin aespa#aespa x fem reader#kpop gg smut#gg smut
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Pls wear headphones for better experience 😏 and yes the audio is all Jiminjeong
Winter and Karina were laying in their bed, laughing and tickling each other as they had done countless times before. But this time, the playful caresses turned into something more.
Karina's fingers gently wandered down Winter's side, tracing the curve of her hip and the softness of her thigh. Winter moaned at the touch, her breathing shallow. Karina watched as her fingers sent shivers through Winter's body and knew that she wanted more.
Leaning in closer, Karina pressed her lips against Winter's neck, lingering there for a moment before kissing her way to her shoulder. She could feel Winter's body trembling beneath her.
"Mm, you feel so good," Karina whispered, her breath hot against Winter's ear.
As Karina continued to kiss her way down Winter's body, she began to rub her hand up and down her thigh, feeling the warmth of her soft skin. Winter's breathing became heavier, her hips lifting ever so slightly to meet Karina's touch.
Karina knew that Winter was wet, she could feel the dampness through her panties and the faint but distinct throbbing of her clit. Karina's own arousal was evident in the way her own pussy was throbbing.
She couldn't resist any longer. Slipping her hand inside Winter's panties, Karina gentry stroked her fingers over her swollen clit. Winter gasped, her hips bucking against Karina's touch. She tried to suppress a moan, but it slipped out nonetheless. She threw her head back, eyes closed, as Karina continued her abuse on her clit.
Emboldened by Winter's response, Karina slid two fingers into her wet pussy, stretching her open. Winter's body jolted with each thrust, her moans growing louder. Karina couldn't help but giggle at the desperation in her lover's eyes, the sight of Winter smiling from the pleasure she gives her.
"Are you okay, baby?" Karina asked, her voice low and sultry.
Winter could only gasp and smile in response, her eyes pleading for more.
Karina knew that this was just the beginning, that this moment would only become more intense, more explicit as the night wore on.
----
Karina moans
#aespa#aespa smut#winrina smut#jiminjeong smut#aespa karina#aespa winter#kim minjeong#yu jimin#aespa moans#aespa karina smut#aespa winter smut
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G!p Karina x mean!reader(not really but kinda)
“Fuck off..stupid bitch.” You yelled as you pulled away from her grasp and stumbled down onto a random guy’s lap, making Karina grab your arm and pull you away while mumbling a soft “sorry.”
“Why’re you bein’ so difficult, hm?” Karina mumbled as she pulled you with her, exiting the bigass house and walking you to her car
You tried to pry her hands off as you cursed her whole bloodline out.
She opened the car door and practically threw you into the car as she slammed the door shut and walked around and got into the drivers seat, ignoring your constant threats and string of curses
“Y/n be quiet baby.” She muttered while trying not to laugh, knowing it’ll only piss you off more.
The second the two of you reached your shared apartment, she immediately dragged you to the couch and forced you onto your knees as she sat on the couch “open your mouth.” She muttered while pulling her hard cock out of her pants
“Fuck you.” I muttered as Karina forced my mouth open.
Karina smirked "That's the spirit," she replied, her voice laced with dominance. She gripped your hair tightly, guiding her throbbing cock into your mouth, pushing past your lips. The taste of her pre-cum filled your senses as she began to thrust, setting a relentless pace.
You gagged slightly, the force of her movements overwhelming. But Karina didn't let up. She reveled in the hold she had over you in this moment. Her hips moved rhythmically, driving herself deeper into your mouth. The sound of your choked moans only fueled her desire.
Her grip on your hair tightened, pulling you closer, urging you to take more. Her moans mingled with yours, creating a symphony of pleasure as she reached her peak. With one final thrust, she released, filling your mouth with her hot cum
She pulled her cock out of your mouth and tapped your jaw, as to tell you to close your mouth “swallow it.” she muttered while staring down at you.
You immediately complied and swallowed every last drop of her cum, sticking out your tongue to show that you did as told.
Karina leaned back, breathless but satisfied. She looked down at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You done being mean?" she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Fuck you.” you let out as she softly smiled “don't even know why I try.”
#karina x reader#karina#karina x fem reader#karina aespa#aespa#aespa karina#aespa karina smut#smut#karina smut#karina aespa smut#aespa smut#kpop smut#kpop gg smut
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embarrassed? karina x fem!reader
CW: public play, pda, humiliation, not proofread, lmk if I missed a lot (I know I did)
You hated public affection so much. You were embarrassed by it. You never did like touching, holding, playing with jimin in public. Especially hugging. You hated the fact that you were a gay/bi, and always wanted to hide it. That is why you hated touching so much because you never wanted anybody to know your "secret".
So, on a saturday afternoon you both agreed to have a mall date with each other like you guys always did, cute like usual, except you wanting to even pretend like you guys weren't even friends, like usual. Jimin was so fed up with it and you could tell.
"Y/nnie love, lets hold hands for once?" As she grabbed your hand hesitantly as you guys were walking. You pulled your hand back harshly
"What are you even doing? You know how I feel about us doing this." A scoff left her mouth as she continued to hold your cold hand anyways.
"Jimin, I said no." As you let go again.
"Y/n have you lost your place? I say yes." This game kept going on until you finally gave in and started to hold your hand. Your mood was now grumpy, you were so pissed off at her.
It was a quiet walk to the subway station, but you guys ended up talking anyways. rina apologized to you, but deep down she really wasn't. She never regret one bit of even holding you tight for once. anyways, you went to the back of the train where no one could barely see you guys, or at least your actions.
There were no seats left so obviously you both had to stand in the corner like two innocent girls .. or not ..
You both were minding your own business, you were on your phone watching tiktok as rina stared off into space, she was planning something.
"I need you to be quiet for me a little, okay?"
"rina what are you-"
she slipped her hand under your skirt feeling your clothed cunt and starting playing with it slowly with her index and middle finger from behind you. not knowing how to speak you turned around and gave her the look that went "are you crazy?!".
She literally was.
"take it princess. you've been out of your place all day." she stopped her actions and puts her hand into your underwear, actually touching your crotch this time. you were dripping. her slender fingers thrusting into you made this even more hotter. you came to realization you were literally getting finger-fucked on a train.
"w-what if we get caught?"
"that's really not my problem is it?" her movements sped up and I swear you let out a whimper that was barely audible. you were gonna cum, you were on a subway too oh my gosh.
she could tell you were getting tighter so she slipped her fingers out of you so fast. You groaned so loud it spread and echoed throughout the whole subway. The amount of stares you got were so embarrassing, the whole crowd was looking your way. With that, she decided to embarrass you once again:( .
She entered her fingers into your dripping cunt one last time and started to begin a fast pace hitting that spongey spot just how you liked it. fuck, your legs were shaking. she continued to fuck you harshly while literally everyone looking at you at that point, trying to hard to not make a noise, but right then and there you came.
your eyes were rolling back hard, and countless curses came out of your mouth, you were so embarrassed but such a horny little girl:((. Jimin pulled out of you like it was nothing and started to go on her phone, pretending like completely nothing had just happened.
you stood there so embarrassed, so red and flushed. luckily for you, the train has stopped to your destination. You went out of the train with liquids running down your thighs, soaked underwear, and people still giving you weird ass stares.
"rina! that was so embarrassing why the fuck did you make me do that shit on the subway!"
"still didn't get put in your place huh??" she questioned. oh my, you knew you fucked it up.
got dragged home, karina slamming the door loudly, and you getting pushed on the bed is what happened. Another 1000 punishments were coming your way and you knew it.
You still didn't let her win, so yet you were still being a brat.
"I don't give a fuck if you were done with me! you still didn't have to fuck me on the subway." you screamed at her while being fucked. you were so caught up in your pride and ego.
well, that was it. you were practically dead in two seconds. the next time you guys went out to the mall, she put a vibrator into you. her having the controller at all times. whenever you had to speak, sit, or when you were acting like a brat AGAIN, she would always turn it up leaving you all embarrassed. You never ever learned your place and continued being the brat you are<3
#kpop smut#fypシ#aespa karina#karina#karina smut#aespa karina smut#karina aespa smut#karina aespa#yu jimin#karina x fem reader#wlw smut#fem reader#smut#lesbian#karina x reader#aespa smut#aespa hard hours
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thinking abt milf!karina and giselle punishing g!p reader for cumming while they weren’t there 😩😩 they’d tie you up in a starfish position so that you can’t move at all!! they’d be ruthless and mean, saying you only think with your dick and nothing else as karina is riding your spent cock. you couldn’t even reply because giselle’s smothering you with her juicy fat cunt. they would swich potions so that you can eat your cum out of their cunts like it was ice cream. thinking abt the way they would untie your arms just so they can suffocate you with their milky tits, giselle infront of you riding your cock, her tits all in your mouth while her milk was dripping down your face and rina was behind you degrading you so much you but it was just making you shoot blanks into giselles cunt and then switching positions again until they got tired😩😩
my jaw DROPPED readin this babes omggg ur mind is just so😵💫
warnings: g!p reader, sub reader, sensitive reader (readers also a loser), dom idols, rina and gigi r mean , caught masturbating, mommy kink, bondage, degradation, belly bulge, creampies, overstimulation, face sitting/riding, cum eating, lactation, nipple sucking, reader cries near the end (LOSER 🫵)
(not proofread, i fell asleep writing this n i kinda changed a few things hope u dont mind😭)
with your girls on tour, you were so pent up☹️ you felt bad for breaking their only rule but you couldn’t help it! (head empty, just thinkin w ur dick😝) pulling up their drama fancams to jerk off to🥺🥺 so focused on cumming, you didnt hear the front door unlock and rushed footsteps to the bedroom😵💫 gigi swung the door open with jimin trailing behind her,
“baby! we missed yo- what do you think you’re doing.” your blood ran cold as the cheery tone of your girlfriend changed to something more dominant, something you missed oh so dearly😋😋 still stroking your dick, her words brought you over the edge, your cum erupting from your raging red tip (damn bitch) “A-aeri! Rina! um hi! how… how are you-guys..?” panting out a response before suddenly feeling each of your limbs being tied to your bedposts. having them back to use you for their own pleasure got you harder by the second, which was noticed by jimin “You broke our only rule slut, you know what’s gonna happen now..” watching the two goddesses in front of you undress nearly made you cum 😵💫 “aeri? ri-“ “ its mommy to you horny bitch.” the only thing you felt was aeri’s pussy lips grind against your mouth, coating your lips with her slick🫠 as your tongue started to slip between her folds, you feel a sudden warmth engulf your cock, nearly busting in karina once you realize it was her :( !! bouncing up and down on your dick, rina found her perfect pace😍 she felt ever twitch your cock did as her wet walls hugged your already throbbing cock 🫤“oh f-fuck! Stupid slut already gonna cum ugh, again? Barely started and you’re already fucking twitching.” whimpering at her remarks sent vibrations throughout aeris core, her fat cunt grinding faster on your tongue as her moans soon turned into squeals😵💫 with both girls practically suffocating you with their pussies, so of course you came faster than anticipated!!🥺 your dick shot all of your warm load straight into rinas womb🫠 “u-ugh!! shit- want mommy to get pregnant huh? MMGH! y-you dont wanna share your mommies right? you know what you have to do…” you take notice of the cum running down to your balls as karina got off your dick, giving balls a harsh slap to keep you in place. finally getting a chance to breathe as gigi and jimin moved to switch places, gigi already eager to ride your sensitive cock! “you made a big mess here baby..” “sorry mommy! didnt mean to!!” you shut up once jimin’s pretty pussy was closer to your face, she had you drooling, even more now it was freshly creampied😵💫
“well? Cmon” jimin has one of her hands spreading her folds to let your cum drip on your face, waiting for your next move “m-mommy.. wan a taste please :(“ (OMG IM FUCKING DYING READING THIS SHIt OVER N OVER AGAIN HELP MEE) “there you go… guess you’re not as useless as mommy thought hm?”
as soon as rina hovered her dripping cunt over your mouth, gigi started grinding on your dick, letting you feel how wet she was😵💫 “missed this dick so ah! fucking much! too bad you always cum t-too fast!” it took everything in your soul to prevent yourself from proving her statement true :(!!
“the fuck you waiting for stupid whore? did you dick replace your brain? taste your cum..” shoving your head into her warm, dripping cunt🫠🫠🫠 as soon as your tongue met her pussy, your cum found its way on your tongue🤫🧏 it was salty and sweet at the same time? and her juices made your cum taste even better😜 you lapped at her cunt while aeri was trying to get you to cum already, pussy aching for something to fill her up!!😍 both of their moans nearly muffled the sound of skin against skin! karina noticed how eager you were to eat her creampied pussy and the way you struggled against the ropes tying you down😵💫 aeris warm pussy around your cock and karinas cunt suffocating you had your head spinning, and so close to releasing the rest of your cum into aeris womb🫠 aeris moans turned into screams as your load filled her up😵💫😵💫😵💫 a slight bulge in her stomach appeared as she stopping riding you, squirting all over your stomach at each gush of cum in her awaiting cunt🫠 you noticed jimin hasnt cum yet, you disappointed her twice in the same night “stupid girl… you couldnt even wait for your mommies to cum before you? worthless bitch, you’re lucky your dick is so fucking good..” karina stared into your eyes as she degraded you, not failing to notice how tears started to form on your pretty eyelashes🥺🥺
time skip….
“Babygirl, you know I didnt mean any of that right? Please dont be upset with me…”
No response.
“Sweetheart…?”
Nothing.
“Rina, shes sleeping dumbass. shes been suckin on my boobs like a baby when you were having your little momen- OW! fuck she just bit me…”
“sucks to suck bitch🖕“
“shhhhh… jimmy you’re so fucking loud….”
“… sorry baby”
IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I TOOK THE FATTEST NAP IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS OMG (the nap was hella good)
Also, WHEN DID THAT GP WONY FIC GET 400 LIEKS THE FUCK 😭😭😭😭
Thank you guys for everything because DAMNNNNN
OLEASE DONT SEND ANYMORE MATH WUESUTONSSSS
Stay safe and Love you lots ❤️
-Vicky 💋
#anon ask#wlw#aespa smut#vicky’s asks#aespa giselle smut#aespa x reader#aespa karina smut#aespa karina x reader#audiz smut#aeri uchinaga smut#aeri uchinaga x reader#yoo jimin smut#yoo jimin x reader
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sick and twisted — yu jimin
CW: noncon, maid!gp!karina, ceo’s daughter reader, darcyphilia, pervert karina, forced breeding, anal, degrading, choking, breath play, oral (k. receiving), manhandling, mean rina, not proofread i’m so sorry i kept dozing off on this </3
word count: 1.4k
anon ask? yes!
being the daughter of the richest ceo you were spoiled to no end by your father. he’d buy you anything and everything you want, it doesn’t matter what the price was.
but you never let that get into your head, you were the sweetest girl anyone could ever want! you were just so pretty! always greeting the maids with a smile on your face before asking if there’s anything they need help with and offering to help them clean the gigantic mansion that your father owned, but they always shook their head with a smile. telling you that they’ve got it all under control.
so could you really blame karina for gaining a crush on you? she knows it’s wrong but she can’t help it! she honestly swears that you do it on purpose, you have the looks of a doll and such a sweet personality. you can easily attract anyone and have anyone wrapped around your pretty finger, and you’ve gotten karina wrapped around your finger without you knowing it, eventually she’s gonna take action and pounce on you, she just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity.
today you were home alone, only being left with one maid, that being karina. she was cleaning the already spotless upstairs, so you went downstairs, not wanting to get in her way.
she’d call you upstairs, making an excuse of needing help from you so almost immediately, you rushed upstairs, “what’s wrong, karina?” you’d ask her, finding her in your room.
but poor you, you got it all wrong. she’s suddenly closing your door and locking it before she pounces on you.
“w-what—karina! what are you doing? get off me!” you’d desperately try and fight back against her but she was just too strong, pinning your arms down to the bed with one hand so she can undress you.
“aww why are you crying? you know what you were fucking doing wearing those booty shorts and tight tops around the house.” karina said, wiping the tears from your face, “stop fucking moving,” her voice was low, completely different from her normal tone and it scared you. so you stopped fighting against her, letting her undress you and leaving you bare.
“body so fucking pretty, you’ll look so pretty with this on.” she said, admiring your body before she’s dressing you up with a tight pink dress, it’s so tight on your body it has your boobs spilling out. just one wrong move and you’re flashing everyone, but luckily she’s the only one who gets to see you in the dress.
she makes you sit up, bringing your hand to palm her hardened dick, “see what you did to me, pretty? it’s only right if you fix what you’ve done.” she grunts, head falling back before letting out a soft moan.
she pulls down her boxers to reveal her angry red mushroom tip, already soaked with her precum.
she brings your head down to her cock, bringing your lips down to the tip of her cock, expecting you to open your mouth but to no avail.
“open your fucking mouth, bitch.” her tone was low, and her grip on your arm and your hair was tight, making you stifle a cry. you were beyond shaking but nonetheless, you obligated to her words, you opened your mouth, in fear of what she’ll do if you didn’t obey.
the moment you opened your mouth she pushed your head down on her cock, making you gag and choke on her cock down your throat. your hand flew to her thighs, hands gripping on both of her legs trying to get her to slow down. but she’s too far gone, her heads clouded from the pleasure to even care.
“fuckk! so p-pretty—f’me! taking my cock so well!” she grunts, her hips begin to widely thrust up into your awaiting mouth. you can’t do anything but sob and let her abuse your mouth.
“shit—stop fucking crying, slut i know you like this.” she feels your tears begin to drop onto her milky thighs before boping your head quicker down her cock, making you whimper around her cock, causing nothing but pleasure to the older. through the aggressiveness of her hands controlling your head, you managed to shake your head no. you didn’t like this.
she laughed before she brings your head all the way down, your nose flushed right on her pelvis. in a panic you began to repeatedly tap on her thigh, trying to get her to let up but she wouldn’t, “spoiled—bitch. where’s your—manners? take all i fucking give you.” she grunts keeping your head down. you begin to sniffle, before she’s thrusting up into your mouth and spilling all of her load into your warm mouth, making you choke and gag on her cum and her cock.
she keeps you there until she released all of her cum into your mouth. she pulls you away from her cock only to place her hand on your throat, “swallow it all, slut.” she looks you dead in the eye. so you nod, her grip on your shaking body basically told you that you needed to obey every command she gave, with tears rolling down your flushed face.
she felt your throat swallow, and you opened your mouth, showing her that you swallowed all of her cum, “such a good girl,” a smile appears on her face with your obligation.
just when you thought she was done, she’s gripping your neck with a stronger grip and pushing you down on your bed.
her hands start to trail up your legs, until it’s right at your panties, starting to take them off before your hands grip on her wrists, “n-no! karina—stop! don’t wan it,” you protest hands pushing on her chest.
“shut the fuck up, whore.” is all she says before ripping off panties.
after the hustle with you, she’s lining her cock up with your hole before she’s shoving her thick cock into your cunt, stretching you lil hole out.
“kar-karina! pull out—please!” you plea to her before she’s placing a hand back onto your throat, choking you and making your words die down in your chest.
“if you don’t want it—why the fuck is your cunt squeezing around me?” she whispers, bullying her cock into your cunt, “fuck! that guy—who’s fucking you must be terrible in bed, you’re tight as a fuckin virgin.” she grunts.
“t-too big—unnie! pull o-out!” you cry to her, words are struggling to come out due to her tight grip on your throat.
“hah! such a pain slut, you fuckin like this.” karina teases, before she’s pulling all the way out, leaving her tip inside before quickly thrusting all the way into your cunt, making your back arch and your breath hitch.
the moans you let out are strangled, her cock is bullying your cervix so much it has your body jittering before cumming all over her cock without warning.
“stupid whore, all the crying and you’re cumming around my cock.” she coo’s before spreading your cunt apart, watching the way your cum spills outta your stuffed cunny.
she flips you around, forcing you to arch your back nice for her, “thought we were done? after waiting for so long to finally fuck you, you think we’re just goin’ for one round? haven’t even got to fuck your ass” her voice is laced with faux sympathy.
“n-no! please!” you beg when you feel her pull outta your cunt, “anything but that!” she’s pushing your head into your pillows and pushes her cock in, moaning loudly from the tightness, “shut up and fuckin’ take it.” she begins to wildly thrust into your ass.
she keeps your hips in place, pounding her cock into your ass quicker and pushes two fingers into your cum covered cunt, “my stupid cum dump, holes made just for me. g’na take all my cum in your ass right?” she whispers, and you nod almost immediately.
a high pitched squeal rips outta your chest when you feel her slap your ass. she fucks into you once last time before 3 strings of cum shoots outta her cock and flooding your ass. your cunt squeezed around your fingers and your cumming once more.
she finally pulls out, watching her seed spill out slowly before whining, “aww, we can’t let anything go to waste now can we?” she asks before she’s pushing the butt plug she brought into your ass to keep her cum in your ass.
“so nasty!” she notices your cum dripping down your legs and onto your bed, “gonna have to breed you and train you to be a good slut from now on since you loved this so much.” she giggled making your eyes go wide, you don’t want this again but it seems like you didn’t have a choice.
#♡.karina#♡.aespa#♡.nabi’s asks#wlw smut#g!p#aespa smut#aespa x fem reader#karina x fem reader#aespa karina smut#karina smut#aespa karina#aespa x reader#kpop smut
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Thoughts about ghostface aespa with sprinkles of g!p ?
!ghostface g!p! Aespa let’s talk about it….. this is the !nice fem popular reader version you can ask for the other one and I’d post it maybe..
a/n : ik there’s gonna be some type of typos AND IM SORRRRY SPARE ME PLEASE
content : murder (shocker), panty stealing, yandere themes, smut, mentions of a fivesome, the jock leaves reader for a rando.., unconsenual recording, reader gets leaked to the jock, groping, sexual corruption??, overall idk what this is you don’t either so yeah..
All members of aespa are in college and had their fair share of people they hated and wanted dead it didn’t matter who you were If you did something that angered them you were on the hit list which rounds up to 95% of the school especially the popular kids (they hated them so much) expect you, to them you were a actual person who didn’t care about luxury brands and cars or about drama / who was fucking who’s boyfriend while they were away to them you had a pure and innocent mind which made this attraction to you grow
It started off with stalking and obsessions to breaking in your dorm whilst you’re in classes maybe if they’re lucky enough you’ll be sleeping they stole various of things from miniature accessories you owned to clothing such as panties and bras..yeah you noticed stuff going missing but you just though you misplaced them or they got lost whilst you took trips to the communal laundry mat…
But one day there was a Halloween college party at a cabin in the woods, everyone was invited so everyone was there, the aespa girls took this as a good opportunity to start their killing spree.. the kill started off good they got rid of the people who would be missed by a minimal amount of people they enjoyed hearing their cries and their begs for forgiveness it just drove them too kill more that night but once you arrived it was like a switch flipped in their brains instead of their murderous mood they were more hyper and eager..
Their eyes scanned over your body looking at the way your costume hugged your curves the coils even see the out line of your panties, if they looked close enough they could tell you weren’t wearing a bra. The happy mood they once had flipped again once they seen who you brung, the jock that had the worse attitude and bullied people who didn’t have the latest car model needless to say they were pissed that you brung him out of everyone else on campus he was the worse guy you could’ve picked and they weren’t happy with you they were gonna make sure you never bring someone who isn’t them to another party..
They watched you and the jock the whole time, every single time you giggled, and felt uncomfortable by his sick jokes, but when he dismissed himself to “piss” they knew it was the perfect time for his death as well, the funny thing was he didn’t have too piss he was fucking another girl in the outdoor bathroom although they wanted to kill him there they wanted to make him feel overwhelmed with emotions so that’s when they finally approached you, you were scrolling on your phone drinking out of a red cup, the conversation was the best one you’ve had in years y’all had so much in common which turned you on although they haven’t showed their faces yet it was a turn on to have things in common it was Giselles idea to go to the bedroom to further explore this attraction..
Once y’all reached the bedroom it just felt like your panties were soaked right that minute the way their hands wondered on your body, the soft touches on your plush thighs, although you’ve never had a fivesome before you wanted to make this work the, sensations of them stretching you out felt so good you’ve never came this fast when you had sex but the way their cock filled you up so nicely you overall had the best experience besides the sounds of camera clicks you weren’t sure if that was your imagination or not you were too horny to be bothered with it, your body was sore and tired after it was finished you just wanted to take a quick nap, Karina and winter being the ones to wash you down and Giselle and ningning getting ready to send the videos and pictures of your sexual encounter with them to the jock,..
After you were sleeping soundly they knew it was time to start their next kill The Jock, after the recordings were sent to the jock they left kisses on your face Giselle might’ve left a slap on your ass and Karina might’ve groped your tits but it’s not like you would care much, the burner phone they used to send the pictures to the jock was ringing with messages angry to ones pleading for you to meet up with him so they did just that, He was pacing around in the back yard with his phone in his hand replaying the video just to hear your soft moans ring in his ears, they could tell he just finished fucking yet another girl and it seemed like you were the next, his pants were unzipped as his cock poked from between the hole in his boxers, They stood in the shadows until they eventually pounced on him ningning pinned his hands to ground as Giselle held down his legs, Karina replayed the sex tape over and over as the jock cried he knew they were the ones that fucked you and slutted you out the video replaying in his head even if the phone was no longer in his vision he couldn’t help it but feel blood rush to his dick watching you get fucked by 4 people at once wishing it was him and his friends fucking you instead, abusing your tight holes then leaving you alone crying and sore but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore to anyone he felt his body going numb as Karina cut into his chest blood gushing on the grass it just made them smile seeing yet another pathetic person being humbled but he wasn’t the first one they needed this to happened too and he certainly wasn’t gonna be the last..
#ghostface#aespa#smut#aespa smut#kpop gg smut#lesbian smut#giselle#twice smut#twice#aespa karina smut#Karina smut#aespa giselle#Giselle smut#winter smut#kim minjeong#ningning smut#wlw noncon#aespa noncon#aespa layouts#aespa smau#ʚɞ. spicy
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virgin — yu jimin & uchinaga aeri x reader.
cw: threesome. pwp. rinselle is drunk. tagalog / filipino smut. noncon! oc is a virgin.
note: hi, guys! it's kyna mia!! (yes, i decided to change my name. my friends already know how much i hate the name kyna, so yeah.) i've been gone for so long, i apologize. i'll try to be more active again. for the meantime, here's the audiz draft i've had for months now! also, i've made a twitter account. let's be mutuals there!
tangina, gusto ko lang magpahinga, pero bakit ganito? hindi ko alam ano'ng nangyari, sobrang bilis...
“giselle, ano ba! tama na, lasing ka.” natawa lang si giselle sa mga salita ko. “pag ako, hindi pwede pero pag si karina, nalilibugan ka, ganon ba 'yon? ha?” napangiwi ako sa sakit ng sampal niya sa mga suso ko. hindi ko alam kung ano'ng mararamdaman ko—pero yung katawan ko, tuwang tuwa sa pag lamas ni karina at ni giselle sa mga suso ko.
“h-hindi! lasing ka. lasing kayo, please... tama na.” naiiyak ako. ang bastos ng ginagawa sakin ng dalawang 'to. hindi ko na nga napansin na nahubad na pala ni karina pati ang panty ko. namalayan ko nalang nang maramdaman ko ang mga kamay niyang binubuka yung mga hita ko. “ayaw ka ng ayaw diyan, pero yung puke mo ganito na kabasa para samin, ha?” marahang tinapik tapik ni karina yung puke ko at totoo—rinig na rinig sa tunog ng mga tapik na 'yon kung gaano ako kabasa. “puta ka ba, ha? pinagpapantasyahan ka namin, binabastos ka na, libog na libog ka padin?” natawa ang dalawa at wala na ako'ng magawa kung hindi umiling at i-deny ang mga akusa nila sa'kin. pero alam naming tatlo na tama sila. na para nga ako'ng puta kasi nasasarapan ako sa mga haplos nila.
wala na ako'ng nagawa kung hindi umiyak at tanggapin ang pambabastos na ginagawa sa'kin ng dalawa. pinanood ko kung pano maghubad si giselle sa harap ko bago niya pinunasan ang mga luha sa mata ko at hinalikan ang mga labi ko ng dahan dahan. “you'll be okay, angel. masasarapan ka sa gagawin namin ni rina, mhm? trust us.” except i already do, it's just... virgin ako. i've never had someone touch me before.
pero tama si giselle. i should... trust them. before i could even reply, karina already had her lips on my pussy. hinahalikan niya ng dahan dahan yung mga labi ko... “r-rina...” i whimpered out, trying to push her away, yet i could feel my cunt get wetter every time her lips touched my clit. parang naging go signal ata ni karina ang pag ungol ko ng pangalan niya. bigla nalang niyang ginamit ang mga dila niya at dinila-dilaan ang pagkababae ko. hindi na 'ko makapag isip, i just wanted to feel more. instead of pushing her away, i found myself pulling her in more, pressing her face down on me. “tangina, ang sarap. sige pa, rina. dilaan mo pa— fuck.” natawa si giselle sa mga salita ko. napatingin ako sakanya which only made her caress my cheeks and whisper against my ear; “nakakalibog ka.” before she dipped her head down to my chest and hungrily sucked my nipples. palit palit ang mga labi niya sa dalawa kong utong at halata naman sa kung paano 'to tumigas at sa mga ungol ko na nasasarapan ako.
giselle pulled away only to get rid of her clothes. rina did too before they switched places. giselle was now in between my legs and karina was hovering my face, her bare cunt barely brushing along the tip of my nose. ang bango—hindi, hindi! mali, maling mali 'to. i harshly turned my head to the side and karina didn't seem to be pleased by that. hinawakan ni karina ng madiin ang aking mga pisngi at hinarap ako ulit sakanya.
“dila.” her voice was low and commanding. i didn't budge. “ilalabas mo yang dila mo o hindi?” isang sampal ang binigay ni karina sakin at sa takot, wala na ako'ng ibang nagawa kung hindi ilabas ang dila ko na dali dali namang idinikit ni karina sa basa niyang puke. naiiyak ako—i feel so hopeless, yet hot. i don't want this, yet i know, i want more. feeling karina's wet cunt all over my mouth and tongue while giselle played with mine, it was too much.
hindi ko alam ano pumasok sa'kin, but i found myself sucking on karina's clit, which she liked. malakas na ungol ang lumabas sa mga bibig ni karina. nakatingin lang ako sakanya, putangina, sobrang ganda ng mga suso ng kaibigan ko. “sige pa, tangina. labas mo dila mo." sabi niya habang nakatingin sakin pababa. i locked eyes with her as i did what she wanted me to do. it was only then when she started bouncing up and down, as if riding a dick, instead of my tongue. "ah, puta, ang ganda niyo parehas." rinig kong bulong ni giselle bago niya sipsipin ang tinggil ko. napaungol ako ng malakas. it seemed to have an effect on karina too, my moaning. she started shaking on top of me and strings of profanities escaped her lips. her hands also found its way on my hair and pushed herself into my face more, and more, and more.
hindi na 'ko makahinga, but karina didn't seem to care about that. i wrapped my lips around her clit and started to suck on her sensitive muscle as she rode my tongue. it didn't take long for her until she started squealing. malalakas na tili na may halong ungol at mura kadugtong ang aking pangalan ang lumabas sa mga labi ni karina habang nanginginig ang kanyang katawan habang nilalabasan. ramdam kong tumulo ang mga katas niya sa muka ko bago siya bumaba at hinalikan ako na ibinalik ko naman. hindi nagtagal nang maramdaman kong lalong naging sensitibo ang katawan ko. my body jerks as she flicked on my clit. bawat haplos ng daliri ni giselle at pagsuso niya sa tingil ko, napapa ungol ako ng malakas sa mga labi ni karina.
“lalabasan ka na?” natatawang sabi ni karina, tila nangaasar. “sagot.” malalim ang boses ng dalaga habang pinaglalaruan ang mga utong ko na dahilan ng lag tayo ng balahibo ko. wala ako'ng nagawa kung hindi tumango kasabay ng isang malakas na hiyaw nang biglang pinalo ni giselle ang puke ko. paulit ulit niyang sinampal at basa kong hiyas bago hinalikan ito ulit. hindi na 'ko makapag isip ng tama, everything feels so overwhelming yet good.
nanginig ang aking mga hita at napa arko ang likod ko nang bigla ako'ng nilabasan. “tangina! ang sarap, ang sarap! fuck, fuck, fuck.” strings of nothing but profanities escaped my lips as i came all over giselle's face while karina calmed me down with kisses all over my chest.
binalot ng mabibigat na hinga ang kwarto at walang nagsasalita saming tatlo. hindi pa nagsi-sink in sakin ng buo yung nangyari, pero sigurado ako'ng nahimasmasan na sa pagka lasing tong dalawa. tatayo na sana ako, pero dalawang kamay ang pumigil sakin. napatingin ako sa dalawa kong kaibigan, they had this playful yet knowing smiles ln their faces. “hindi pa kami tapos sa'yo.”
#mia writes#aespa#karina#giselle#aespa karina#aespa giselle#aespa smut#aespa karina smut#aespa giselle smut#karina smut#giselle smut#rinselle smut#audiz smut#audiz#gg x reader#girl group smut#gg smut#gxg smut#kpop smut#girl group x reader
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forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader
notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭
cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink
wc 2.2k
your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.
—
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK
first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.
shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?
it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.
“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.
ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.
“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.
“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.
fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.
not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.
in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.
taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.
whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.
you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”
so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”
“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”
“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.
“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.
it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.
you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.
in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.
she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.
she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.
“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.
if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.
like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.
every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.
as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.
“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.
pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.
her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.
returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.
your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.
right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.
“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.
“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.
finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.
after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.
“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”
aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.
“yeah.. forever”
#wintersera#omegaverse smut#aespa smut#g!p aespa#karina smut#aespa x reader smut#aespa karina smut#aespa x fem reader smut#g!p karina#yu jimin x reader smut#karina x fem reader smut#kpop smut#girl group smut#kpop girl group smut#fem!reader
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somno w karina who just got home after a late sched finding us dreaming abt her i cant make this shit up i need her RN😀😀
thank you so much. 🙏
cw : somnophilia!!
she’s exhausted, walking into your guys’ bedroom as she heavily sighs upon seeing you sound asleep. sure, she definitely didn’t expect you to stay up until such an ungodly hour for her, but she was kind of hoping to find you awake, especially when she was so pent up from work today.
then, she particularly notices the way your baggy transparent t-shirt was barely covering your upper stomach, allowing her to see how smooth your skin looked under the moonlight that night, your nipples seemingly hard, either from the chilly temperature of the room, either from you dreaming about her, and she was truly desperately hoping the cause was the latter.
she just couldn’t help but get wet at the sight of you like this, she’d been working non-stop since early morning and the stress was building up, she had to have you, right then and there. she was so sure she was going to die if she didn’t. she wanted to ruin you sooo badly.
plus, with how busy you two got, you were hardly intimate anymore. so, she sucked up her guilt and did what she had to do.
setting her bag down and settling herself slightly on top of you after taking her jeans and panties off, she tried her hardest not to wake you up. thank god you were a heavy sleeper, cause otherwise, you would’ve definitely had woken up from her settling her body in between your legs, one of them on top of hers as her core hovered over yours.
she breathed hot air as her core approached yours, eventually sighing in relief when she felt the contact. she started slowly rubbing her dripping cunt against yours, silently asking your unconscious body for forgiveness as she used it to get off, holding back desperate and needy moans. :(((
she’d try sososo hard to muffle her own sounds, but hearing the squelching noises of both of your pussies being pressed together got her even more turned on, she couldn’t help but let out small whimpers.
which, somehow woke you up!
“mmhh… j-jimin what are you—“
“fuck baby- i’m so sorry i swear i-i needed you so - ahh - badly please let me keep going please..” she pleaded, grinding onto you faster.
with how pretty her begs sounded, with how desperate she looked to finish, how could you leave her hanging? it didn’t matter how drowsy you were, you just laid there and took it all.
plus, with the dream you previously had of her having a very apparent effect on you, you wanted her to keep going, too.
#yoo jimin#jimin aespa#aespa karina smut#aespa karina#aespa smut#sug speaks#anon asks#kpop gg#female reader#karina x fem reader#karina x female reader#karina aespa#karina aespa smut#yoo jimin smut#yoo jimin aespa
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