Archive of Our Own

Yoona would swear on a stack of Minecraft walkthrough guides that she and Kyujin had truly only started hooking up on accident.

It’d been something so common, so inconsequential as a post-dance practice vent session, hours after everyone else had left, where Yoona had mentioned feeling tense and stressed and unbearably strung out amidst grueling comeback prep.

She always liked talking with Kyujin. Her calming demeanor and logical reasoning provided a much-welcomed counterbalance to the unpredictable energies of the rest of the group. Her insistence on forfeiting the cute maknae role, moreover—on shedding the identity assumed of her—placed her second perhaps only to Haewon in understanding how to shoulder the peculiar weight of public opinion.

Kyujin had nodded, listening seriously to Yoona's lamentations about the exhaustions of keeping up her image. Then, with the utmost sincerity: "Unnie, how often do you touch yourself?"

And Kyujin—magnificent, competent, a-little-too-good-at-too-many-things Kyujin, had somehow managed to flip Yoona's spluttering reaction into her current situation: Yoona’s face smushed into the practice room mirrors, sandwiched between the cool glass and Kyujin's warm, warm body.

“I try to get off at least once a day,” Kyujin had scolded, already sliding her hand up Yoona's leg. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

The mirror had fogged over quickly beneath all of Yoona's needy pants and whines, and she was absolutely writhing—rutting against the palm of her younger bandmate’s hand, canting her hips down desperately, pathetically, all-but-fucking herself on Kyujin’s fingers.

She still needed more; needed to feel more of Kyujin against her, inside her. She yanked her sweats down around her ankles with a frustrated groan, arching her back as much as she could manage. Behind her, she could faintly hear Kyujin murmur so pent up, the almost-clinical tone of it making her burn white-hot.

“Words, unnie,” Kyujin reminded, gently, like she was disciplining an unruly student. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.”

Kind, but disaffected. Yoona wanted to scream.

All she could manage, though, was a whine. She pressed her ass back against Kyujin's front as much as she could, the angle forcing Kyujin to bend forwards, her torso now flush against Yoona’s back.

Kyujin tutted disappointedly and slid her fingers out. Yoona whimpered, positively bereft at the sudden emptiness, and then gasped as Kyujin pushed in again: fucking her from behind, now.

“I can’t read your mind, unnie," Kyujin chastised, punctuated by the lewd sound of skin against wet skin. "You want it from behind, like this?”

Something about Kyujin’s tone, the thrill and shame she felt being scolded like this, sent Yoona flying over the edge after only a few thrusts in this new angle, so intensely that she had to clap a hand over her own mouth to keep from crying out.

Half-conscious and still shuddering through aftershocks, she blearily turned to ask if Kyujin wanted her to return the favor.

Her heart dropped. Kyujin was long gone.

***

Yoona was genuinely shocked when it happened again.

She checked the clock with a weary sigh and shut off her computer. It was late. She'd been up playing Minecraft for hours longer than she’d meant to. She half-unthinkingly shot out a quick good night nswer~ message before tossing her phone on the bed.

She gripped the edge of her desk with a sigh, trying to shake away the disappointment she felt with herself about how unfocused she’d been during dance practice earlier. What did Kyujin say the moves were, again?

She also tried to force herself to forget how watching Kyujin was what had distracted her to begin with; how watching her command the room in full Dance Leader mode had left Yoona feeling flushed and bothered as she remembered how Kyujin had similarly commanded her just days earlier.

She was perhaps too lost in thought to hear her door creak open, too distracted with memories of lithe shadows and sharp eyes to register the footsteps pattering up behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the same arms she’d been thinking about wrap around her waist.

“It’s the middle of the night, unnie,” Kyujin’s honeyed, low voice murmured, directly into her ear. “You should be sleeping.”

Yoona yelped in surprise. “W-what are you—how…?”

Kyujin shrugged. “Door was unlocked.” She stepped back with a frown. “Do you not want to-”

Yoona shook her head too quickly. “Not that,” she replied. Her mouth was dry as the desert. "I just..."

She trailed off, unsure what to make of the disappointment in Kyujin's face. “You just surprised me, is all,” she landed, eventually. “I didn’t know if you’d…”

Kyujin quirked an eyebrow, picking up on the unspoken end to the sentence. "Well, yeah, of course,” she drawled, smiling easily, already snaking one hand around to undo her jeans button. “You could barely pay attention in practice today. I figured this would help.”

Yoona’s stomach swooped at the attentiveness, though part of it still hit strangely. Right. Kyujin was just helping her re-focus; nothing more, nothing less. Her stomach swooped even lower when Kyujin pressed two fingers hard against her aching core.

Slightly later, as Yoona clenched desperately around her fingers, she felt Kyujin lean in to nip at her ear. "I'm not all rules and orders, unnie," she said. "I like to have fun, too, you know."

Yoona quirked an eyebrow, her heart jumping amidst the haze of pleasure. "This is—ah—fun for you, too, then?”

Kyujin seemed amused, if not mildly bewildered, by Yoona's open-mouthed surprise. “Unnie,” she began. “My fingers are literally inside you right now and you’re going to question if I’m having fun?”

Kyujin stuck around for a moment afterwards this time, pressed against Yoona's back as she shuddered through her orgasm. The weight of her body was calming, grounding, filling some aspect of the inexplicable emptiness Yoona felt in the aftermath.

“I am, by the way,” Kyujin added, in a smooth, lilting tone. “Having fun, I mean. You’re really, really pretty when you cum."

She pressed a kiss to Yoona's cheek, and was gone.

Yoona shivered, left to try to ignore how the gesture made her heart race. She hadn’t even thought to question what Kyujin was doing up so late, too.

***

It continued like this—infrequent, but nonetheless consistent—for months.

Yoona would linger in the room after dance practice, waiting for the feeling of slender arms to wrap around her; would leave her bedroom door unlocked in a silent invitation for long, lithe fingers to slide into her and tear her apart. The routine was always the same: Kyujin would fuck her to tears again and again, kiss her cheek, and be gone before Yoona could fully remember her own name.

Kyujin maybe didn’t know how good she was at fucking Yoona, that only a few thrusts had Yoona consistently tumbling over the edge harder and faster than she’d had ever managed on her own. Maybe she did know. Yoona couldn’t tell which idea thrilled her more. But the detached nature of it, the almost-clinical fucking, had at some point started to lose its glamor, and left her instead feeling cold and empty in a way she couldn't quite put words to. 

As much as she relied on Kyujin's consistency, there were still also times where she wished the girl would surprise her. She wondered about her constantly: wondered if Kyujin ever lost control; wondered if there was anything she wasn't good at; wondered what Yoona meant to her beyond groupmate.

Then, late at night, alone in her room, her wonderings took on a different nature. Jiwoo had unintentionally let slip that Kyujin had a strap with a grinding base, a fact that had become the subject of her every waking thought ever since. She found herself wondering what Kyujin looked like wearing it, what she sounded like, felt like.

Nothing had changed, really, about their external relationship. Yoona was still the strong, resilient unnie and Kyujin the maknae who was wise beyond her years, with her perfectly-polished public image and self-assuredness to match. Kyujin was mature in ways that far exceeded her years, something she remembered Haewon lamenting early in their career. 

“I worry she’s had to grow up too fast,” the leader had confessed. “I wish…I should’ve…”

“I think we all did, unnie,” Yoona had replied.

Kyujin continually impressed her. As comebacks came and went, Yoona found herself appreciating in even greater depth Kyujin's ability to adapt, to readjust, to notice when her unnies needed something and how easily and willingly she would provide.

Like now, for example, when the younger had her bent over the dresser in Yoona's hotel room, three fingers deep. 

Kyujin stilled, skidding to a halt midway through scissoring Yoona open. “You’re not making as much noise as usual. What’s wrong?”

Yoona swallowed hard. Might as well rip off the bandaid. "...I'm just not getting there," she mumbled, embarrassed enough to explode. "It happens sometimes. Just not my day."

Kyujin's brows furrowed deeper than Yoona had ever seen. "Oh."

Yoona watched her trying to figure out what to do, saw the mechanics of thought laid out clearly on her face, and steeled herself for the imminent rejection. But Kyujin surprised her, then, nodding decisively just moments later. “Okay. How else do you want it?”

Yoona’s entire body jolted at the unexpected result. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the new wave of heat pooling between her legs. “I’ll just get myself off later, Kyujin. Don’t worry about it-”

“No,” Kyujin interrupted. “It’s okay. Tell me what else you want me to do.” Then, with a half-smile: “This is my job, after all.”

Yoona's heart jumped, still embarrassed and now a bit...frustrated? Why was Kyujin arguing with her? Why was Yoona arguing back?

(What did she mean by her job?)

“Kyujin, you really don’t have to,” she said, her head swimming with disappointment and lust and…fuck, she was horny. "I'll be okay-"

With a frustrated huff, Kyujin pressed her up against the wall, hands firmly gripping Yoona’s hips. "Unnie," she insisted, nudging Yoona’s legs open and pressing her knee hard against her core. “Tell me how to get you off."

Yoona could barely breathe. Her head was spinning. They never fucked face-to-face.

When she finally regained her voice, it was little more than a whisper. "Harder," she managed, hips canting against the knee pressed against her. "Please, kitty."

Kyujin inhaled sharply, and Yoona couldn't tell if the dark glint in Kyujin’s eyes was just her own wishful thinking.

True to form, she recovered quickly. "I can do rough, unnie," she said, earnestly, digging her nails sharply into the soft skin of Yoona’s hips. "Why didn't you just say so?”

Kyujin continued holding her in the afterglow, her fingers pressing lightly into her lower back, almost like she was kneading at the skin. “I want to keep helping you," she murmured. "Just...tell me what you want me to do. No more holding anything back."

Yoona's tongue darted out despite herself. They were close enough that she could easily lean in and-

Kyujin surprised her again by leaning in first. Instead of the cheek, Kyujin pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, the gesture simultaneously sharp and sincere. "See you next time," she murmured, and left Yoona burning icy hot.

The minute she was gone, Yoona jammed her hand back into her underwear and brought herself to another shuddering, almost-satisfying climax.

Apt, she thought. The metaphor of the cat, the imagery of slim paws and nails sharp enough to slice flesh. Kyujin's claws were knife-sharp, sunk deep into Yoona’s willing flesh.

It took a while before Yoona finally realized that she actually kind of liked letting herself get cut.

***

Kyujin would master anything you asked of her. Sex was no different. As soon as Yoona told her she wanted it hard and rough, Kyujin adapted immediately—overstimulating Yoona until she genuinely cried, leaving cat-scratches in places no one would see, cackling when Yoona cried out in pain and pleasure.

Kyujin made love with tenderness and care. She fucked like she wanted it to hurt.

For her part, Kyujin seemed to be enjoying herself almost as much as Yoona was. When Yoona’s brain wasn’t melting out of her ears, she noticed how easily Kyujin had assumed this new role. Kyujin seemed happier with her. Looser, more open. if Yoona didn't know any better, it almost seemed like she was truly having fun.

Something had shifted in Yoona, too. She'd begun to crave Kyujin's attention in a way she'd never felt before, felt all-but-helpless against the burning desire to poke at her, to interrupt her focus, to tease. Something about how put-together Kyujin was made Yoona want to knock it all down.

Maybe she should've been the cat, after all.

Two sharp knocks on her door snapped her out of her ruminations. Kyujin.

“Come in," Yoona called, wanting to smack herself when she heard the waver in her own voice.

Kyujin didn't clock it, or at least pretended she didn't. She flopped down dramatically onto Yoona’s bed, and Yoona cast her eyes towards the ceiling in an attempt to avoid staring at the the smooth skin of her thighs where her shorts had ridden up.

“You didn’t clean up that Gundam you were building,” Kyujin scolded, noticing the mess on Yoona’s desk.

Yoona rolled her eyes, trying to disguise the way Kyujin’s chastising made her breath hitch. “Are you gonna complain every single time you come in here?”

“Are you ever going to clean it up?”

Yoona gave up, attempting instead to distract Kyujin’s attention by hitting her with the most simpering doe eyes she could muster.

Kyujin gasped in mock offense. “Nuh uh,” she said. “You can’t meep your way out of this one.”

Yoona, of course, doubled down, hitting her with every aegyo pose she could think of in rapid succession. Kyujin pounced, attempting to stop the onslaught, and the two fell into a laughing heap of playfighting. She didn't fully appreciate the danger she was in until Kyujin swung her leg over Yoona's hips, straddling her.

Yoona felt the giggle in her throat disappear at the sight of Kyujin's eyes glinting with mischief. Then, Kyujin surprised her again: in one swift movement, she leaned forward and pinned Yoona's arms in place, watching knowingly, amusedly as Yoona squirmed. 

Yoona knew she was fucked. She was so easy for her—embarrassingly so—already melting and Kyujin was barely touching her. Smirking, Kyujin slid her hands beneath Yoona's shirt, pulling it off, and gripped her bare waist firmly.

Yoona's hips bucked involuntarily. She wanted to smack herself. 

“Ah, unnie,” Kyujin teased, knowingly. “You seem a little tense. What's got you all worked up?”

Kyujin surprised her again, then, by attempting to murder her: she rolled her hips forward, playfully grinding down onto Yoona’s stomach.

Yoona lost her mind.

She cursed under her breath, trying to rip her pants off as fast as humanly possible while Kyujin watched with obvious amusement. "You unnies need to listen to me more," she drawled, circling Yoona's clit with not nearly enough pressure. "Look how desperate you are to get off. I'm barely even touching you."

Yoona heard herself whine at the scolding, hips bucking in protest as Kyujin dragged another ghostly-light circle around her aching clit.

Kyujin’s eyes glinted. "Words, unnie," she chastised. Evil. "What do you need?"

Yoona flushed: frustrated, desperate. Kyujin refused to make things easy, refused to give in. How was she supposed to say she wanted Kyujin to bite down harder, to make her scream and bleed, to laugh as Yoona writhed beneath her? 

She grit her teeth in embarrassment, feeling her hips chase after Kyujin’s hand, wanting to cry when there was no friction to be found. “You,” she begged.

Kyujin tutted disapprovingly. “That’s not how we ask, unnie,” she drawled, and when Yoona felt her start to pull her hand away, she felt something snap.

She shouldn't antagonize. She couldn’t help herself.

She grabbed Kyujin’s wrist, holding it in place, and pushed Kyujin’s fingers inside of herself.

Kyujin’s eyes shot open, her pupils blown out to oblivion. Yoona bit back a moan when she noticed, thrilled at the idea that Kyujin was getting worked up, too.

She caught her reflection across the room, suddenly having never been more grateful for her decision to mount that mirror behind her door. Her cheeks were flushed and ruddy, her lips slightly part, her body rocking up and down as she fucked herself with Kyujin's fingers.

Kyujin had all but frozen, her gaze fixed squarely on Yoona's heaving chest. Her breath caught.

"Do you like fucking me, kitty?" Yoona exhaled, staring at a mesmerized Kyujin through half-lidded eyes. The air between them crackled like fireworks.

Kyujin's brows knit. "This isn't how it's supposed to go, unnie," she murmured.

“You haven't stopped me,” Yoona replied, simply.

Kyujin cast her eyes to the side, her cheeks flushed bright red. "Shut up."

Seeing Kyujin get so uncharacteristically flustered sent adrenaline coursing through Yoona. She felt immediately addicted to the sight, now singularly focused on getting Kyujin to react like that again. She threw her head back and let out a heady moan.

Kyujin’s eyes shot open wide. “Shhh,” she warned. “The others are home.”

Something about there being a rule in place made Yoona want nothing more than to break it. “Mmmm, Kyujin-"

She was cut off by the girl in question, her lewd moan stifled by the hand Kyujin clapped over her mouth. “Quiet,” Kyujin hissed, flushed and incredulous. “Do you want them to hear?"

Yoona's eyes almost rolled back at the thought. Yes, she wanted them to hear, wanted everyone to hear, to know Kyujin that was currently, actively fucking her brains out, that Kyujin was hers.

She must've managed to mumble out some semblance of the sentiment, because a flurry of emotions flashed across Kyujin's face—irritation, arousal, surprise—until finally, with a frustrated exhale, she slammed their lips together. It was forceful enough that Yoona couldn’t fully appreciate what was happening at first. She let out a surprised gasp, her mouth opening enough for Kyujin to slip her tongue inside. She threw her free arm around Kyujin’s neck for balance, trying to match the urgency with which the younger girl was sliding their lips together.

For as many times as they'd fucked, this was the first time they'd actually kissed. Yoona wanted to imprint every detail into her memory: Kyujin's little mewls of pleasure, the way her lip gloss felt smeared across Yoona's lips and neck, the way she tasted licking into Yoona's mouth.

She'd wanted to remember every detail. But then Kyujin bit down hard on her bottom lip, and Yoona's brain turned to mush.

Yoona twisted her hands in Kyujin’s hair and pushed back, their lips disconnecting long enough for Yoona to catch the hungry, almost feral look in Kyujin’s eyes.

The wave of arousal that surged up in Yoona just about dragged her under. She wanted Kyujin to devour her. Kyujin, evidently, felt the same: her hand was bolstered against her pelvis as she rocked her hips forward, thrusting her fingers into Yoona like a makeshift strap.

God. Kyujin was so into it that she'd started basically dicking her down. Yoona could’ve cum from the thought alone.

Biting her lip to keep her volume down, she hiked her leg up around Kyujin's waist, clawing at the younger girl's back as she fucked herself deeper on Kyujin's fingers, whimpering and whining with each thrust.

Kyujin crooked her fingers just enough that Yoona could no longer keep their lips connected, each stroke instead punching out staccato'd gasps as Yoona climbed closer and closer to her peak.

"Need you," Yoona managed, her voice low and gravelly, gasping as Kyujin kissed down her neck and attached her lips to Yoona’s pulse point. “Need you, kitty, wanted this so much.”

Yoona’s brain was struggling to sort through the desperate tangle of sensations happening all at once: Kyujin’s short, shallow breaths of exertion; pert nipples brushing together through thin clothing; how loudly her bed was squeaking since Kyujin had seemingly thrown caution to the wind.

"Fuck, unnie," Kyujin panted, her breath hot on Yoona's neck, scraping her teeth over the sensitive skin and sucking hard, and that was all it took to send Yoona careening over the edge, clenching and pulsing around Kyujin’s fingers.

Slightly later, still bleary in the wake of her orgasm, she turned to check on Kyujin.

"Did you…?" She trailed off, noticing Kyujin was staring intently at her neck.

Yoona knew that face: the slight tremble of her hands, the smallest furrow of her eyebrows. Kyujin was putting in concerted effort to appear unaffected. It was the same face she made when she fucked Yoona, the same clench of her jaw when Yoona saw her in the mirror.

"Left a mark," Kyujin muttered, mostly to herself. She ran her thumb, feather-light, over Yoona’s collarbone, before pushing up and hastening to leave. 

“I gotta go," she mumbled.

She didn't kiss Yoona's cheek this time.

***

Yoona knew how much Kyujin hated being compared to the other members.

She understood completely where she was coming from. Kyujin worked perhaps the hardest of all of them to be seen as her own person, and Yoona deeply respected that.

But…Yoona could also occasionally see where, sometimes, having other people as points of comparison might be helpful. Like now, for example, when Kyujin was standing right in front of her trying to break off their arrangement.

“Unnie?”

Yoona snapped back to attention, realizing she hadn’t been paying a lick of attention. “Hm?”

Kyujin swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I said that I think we should stop,” she said, grimacing. “Let things…cool down.”

“Cool down,” Yoona repeated, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She felt sick to her stomach. 

Kyujin’s expression was unreadable. “…It feels different with you than with anybody else," she continued, quietly. "I don't know what that means.”

“What do you mean different?”

Kyujin’s eyes zeroed in on the mark on Yoona’s neck, her expression tortured. “I lost control,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I’ve never…that’s never…”

Yoona's cheeks burned. "You didn't hear me complaining."

“I know,” Kyujin admitted. “I just...I can’t risk messing things up with the group because I was too selfish—”

She cut herself off, her jaw tense.

Comparing Kyujin to Haewon is what made the most sense to Yoona, with Haewon being the person she’d hooked up with most before Lily and Haewon had chosen each other. Haewon was angsty, Kyujin was not; Haewon was turbulent, Kyujin was calming; Kyujin wasn’t avoidant, though Yoona sometimes wished she was a little less blunt.

The trait that Kyujin had most seemed to inherit from Haewon, though, was the tendency to mistake self-sacrifice for responsibility.

Yoona surged up, dizzy with hurt, trying her damndest to disguise it. “It’s fine, Kyujin. I get it,” she said. Her voice echoed in her ears. “Thanks for the sex. Have fun with whoever else."

Kyujin winced. "You never call me that," she whispered, quieter than Yoona had ever heard her. 

Yoona returned to her room to find her desk neat and tidied, the Gundam pieces organized by color.

It was none of her business if she heard a muffled sob or two coming from the room next to hers that night. She pulled the covers further over her head and pretended she didn't feel the rivers of hot tears streaming down her own face.

***

Kyujin was uncharacteristically quiet during their next group dance practice. Her commands weren't as sharp, her discipline not nearly as rigid.

"Kyujin's got some angst today," Lily commented during a water break, gesturing towards the girl who was stretching alone in the farthest corner. 

Yoona knew it was immature of her to say anything, to publicly act from a place of hurt, even if the public was just their four other group members. She didn't care. She wanted to hit her where it would hurt the most. 

She caught Kyujin's eye in the mirror. "Happens when you grow up too fast," she murmured. She watched from across the room as Kyujin's jaw clenched, and she knew she’d hit a nerve. 

The other four didn't notice. Yoona did.

The moment they got back to the dorms, Kyujin pulled Yoona insistently into her bedroom. She slammed and locked the door before whipping around, her eyes flashing. “What do you want, unnie?”

Yoona could barely think over the roaring in her ears. I want to kiss you again. I want you to hold me down and make me beg and scream and cry and even then don’t let me go. I want you to use me. I want fans to ship us the same way they do the others. I want to be yours.

It sounded like a lie before she even said it. "Nothing," Yoona replied brusquely. "I don't need anything from you.”

“Don't lie to me.” 

Yoona felt ridiculous, acting out like some immature teenager, but felt equally helpless against the wave of hurt and guilt surging up in her. "I'm not lying," she lied. "Besides. I wouldn't wanna make all your other girlfriends jealous, anyway." 

Kyujin scowled, crossing her arms with a huff. "That's not fair, unnie," she grumbled. “Me and Jiwoo unnie haven’t fucked in ages. And I only made out with Jinsol unnie a couple times, anyway.”

Yoona felt like she might choke on the lump in her throat. 

“There’s no one else,” Kyujin continued, insistently. “Hasn’t been for a couple months now. It’s just you, unnie.”

Yoona groaned into her hands. Her head was spinning, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration and lust and— “Sorry," she murmured. "Don’t know why I’ve been acting this way. I just want you to want me as bad as I want you."

Kyujin looked at her incredulously. "Of course I want you," she said. "We've been fucking for months now. You think I was doing all that for…what, routine's sake?"

Yoona blinked. “…Kind of?"

Kyujin's head sagged. "Unnie," she said, devastated. "Why didn't you tell me what you wanted?"

"Not my fault," Yoona said, wearily. "I just figured it out, too."

Kyujin groaned, frustrated, tugging Yoona in by her belt loops and kissed her hard.

The force of impact sent them both tumbling down onto Kyujin's bed, a messy tangle of limbs and lips and muffled moans. Yoona wrapped her arms around Kyujin’s waist, pulling her on top.

"Thought I was being responsible," Kyujin mumbled, hungrily, against her lips. "Dunno how I thought I was going to live without touching you."

Yoona felt genuinely helpless against the comment bubbling up out of her. "You wanna fuck me that bad, kitty?"

Kyujin screeched to a halt.

She sat back on her heels, her head cast up wearily towards the ceiling, and she sighed with a tiredness that seemed far beyond her years.

“Unnie,” Kyujin began, speaking the exact words that Yoona didn’t realize she wanted to hear. “You are so fucking annoying.”

“I know,” Yoona whined, her hips bucking. She didn’t care how desperate, lewd, shameless she sounded. “Now can you please fucking do something about it?”

Kyujin froze, understanding dawning very obviously on her face.

She barked out a laugh. “...Is that what this has all been for?" she asked. "You've been acting out on purpose? To, what, get me to...take it out on you?"

Yoona had barely managed to nod before Kyujin shoved her head down into the mattress. She paused for a brief second to allow Yoona to adjust her head position—always a gentleman—before ripping off her sweatpants and underwear.

Kyujin tsked at the feel of her, and Yoona knew from her tone alone the exact smirk on her face. She could only whimper, so turned on it was making her delirious, as Kyujin dragged her fingers too lightly through slick-wet folds.

“God, unnie, you're dripping for this,” Kyujin murmured, hot and low in Yoona’s ear. "You’re always so easy for me. Why do I even try?”

Just a breath of a pause later she added, experimentally: "Whore."

The shameful thrill she felt at Kyujin’s tone made her hips buck pathetically. When had she started letting someone younger talk to her like this, degrade her like this? “Kitty,” she managed. “Fuck me. Please.”

“I don’t know, unnie,” Kyujin mused, her hand falling away entirely from Yoona’s core. Evil. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be asking for anything right now.”

“I’ll be good,” Yoona begged, hips canting down desperately, chasing after the ghost of friction. “I wanna be good for you. Anything you want, kitty. I'll—fuck."

Kyujin simply leaned down to murmur sweetly in her ear. “Be a good unnie and take what I give you,” she said, “and maybe I’ll think about it.”

And then Kyujin's fingers were inside her once more, and Yoona lost sight of anything else.

Kyujin could read her like a book at this point. She knew exactly how Yoona liked to be fucked; knew exactly how to crook her fingers, knew how Yoona's body started to lock up when she was close to her peak.

Now, Kyujin was using her mastery for evil, filling her up almost enough, thrusting with almost the right pace, bringing Yoona so painfully close to orgasm she could taste it before ripping her fingers away in the cruelest fate imaginable. Yoona was left aching and gushing and clenching around absolutely fucking nothing: once, twice, too many times for her pain-pleasure-addled brain to keep count.

She'd started crying after the first denial, which had quickly turned into full-body sobs. Her cunt was throbbing, aching, furious at the continued denial, when she finally heard the words she was unknowingly desperate to hear. 

"You like having to beg for it, don't you, unnie?"

Yoona's breath hitched. She did. She loved it, loved it so much, lived for it. She nodded vigorously, still shuddering with quiet sobs as she tried to regain her breath. Her entire body was aching and pulsing like a live wire.

“Good girl,” Kyujin hummed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Yoona's stomach clenched in hot, delicious agony at the name. “You can cum however you want, now, okay? Any way.”

Yoona jumped to answer, her tongue leaden as she stumbled over her words. “Cum in me,” she gasped, fresh tears welling in her eyes at the idea of Kyujin stretching her out. “Need you to cum in me, in your unnie—need you inside me, I need it, please.”

Kyujin nodded sharply. "Stay there while I get ready," she said, and Yoona had to fight not to clench her legs together at the sternness of the command.

Off to the side, she could faintly hear Kyujin rustling through her closet and the sound of harness straps being decisively pulled tight. She needed to feel Kyujin inside her, needed it, was dying for it, and she still wasn't, and then Kyujin finally clambered back on top of her and the world seemed to shift back into place.

Kyujin looked ravenous, magnetized, her attention single-mindedly on Yoona's swollen, dripping cunt as she lined herself up with Yoona’s entrance. “Wait,” she murmured, guiding Yoona to lift her hips up while she spread a towel beneath them. If Yoona hadn't just been edged to oblivion she would've swooned.

Kyujin dragged the head of the toy through Yoona’s slick-wet folds, sliding it forward to gather wetness along the length. She rocked back onto her heels, languidly, distractedly stroking the length of the strap as if she was jacking off to the sight of her unnie spread open for her.

“So pretty, unnie,” she murmured, almost reverently. “So wet, so ready for me. D’you really want me that bad?”

Before Yoona could answer, Kyujin pushed the head of the toy in, and Yoona’s back arched at the stretch. Her face twisted in delicious agony.

“Ah-Kkyu, wait,” she panted. “Can’t-“

"Yes, you can," Kyujin corrected. “Look at me, unnie. I want you to watch me fuck you.”

Yoona complied, wrenching her eyes open with immense effort, watching Kyujin’s eyes glaze over in real time as she pushed the rest of the way in.

Lightning shot up her spine when Kyujin bottomed out. She’d never felt so full. She felt like Kyujin was ripping her apart, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending her careening to the moon.

And, to her absolute horror, Yoona came immediately.

The waves of orgasm that wracked through her felt less like a release and more like an explosion with nowhere to go. Kyujin was stretching her out so completely she could barely even clench around her. Instead, the pleasure and heat shot up straight to her head, leaving her disoriented and dizzy while she struggled to come down. She whined in disbelief, in horror, in frustration, twitching and gasping for air. She hadn’t wanted to cum like that; hadn’t wanted to cum at all until Kyujin did.

Kyujin, ever-vigilant, picked up on her distress and immediately started to pull out. Panicked, Yoona shot her arms out, grabbing Kyujin's ass to keep her firmly in place. The idea of not being filled up by her was genuinely unthinkable.

Kyujin blinked once, surprised, and nodded in understanding. “It’s okay, unnie,” she soothed, statue-still while Yoona recovered. “Promise I’ll take care of you. Worked you up pretty bad. I'll make sure you cum how you want."

Eventually, Yoona’s breath evened out enough that she could feel her muscles slowly relaxing, un-tensing, leaving her limber enough that Kyujin slid in slightly further. She gasped at the friction, clawing into Kyujin's back, her head canting back into the pillow.

Kyujin settled on top of her, her body weight pressing Yoona into the mattress as she started to thrust in earnest. Yoona's body buzzed with arousal-bordering-overwhelm, and she tried to keep grounded by focusing on the feeling of Kyujin splitting her open, on Kyujin's pretty little gasps, on Kyujin. 

She was hurtling fast, too fast, to her second climax. She dug her heels into the mattress, pulled Kyujin's head down into her neck, wanting to feel as much of her against her skin as possible.

"You're close, aren't you, unnie?" Kyujin panted, exhaling hotly into her neck. "Can you do it? Will you cum for me?"

All Yoona could do was wrap her legs around Kyujin's waist as tightly as she could, anchoring herself as she unraveled around her.

When the waves subsided enough for Yoona to catch her breath, she was met with an absolute vision: Kyujin, on top of her, her brows knit firmly together, her lips part and glistening, breathing hard, punctuating each increasingly erratic thrust with a whimpered unnie. 

Yoona's heart ached. She'd never been so beautiful. 

“Just a little more, unnie, please?" Kyujin said. Her voice was strained, her eyes glassy and blown-out, her hips rocking forward in tiny, almost unconscious pulses. “'Mso...feels so—so good, inside you.”

Yoona’s brows were still knit together as she tried to regulate her breathing, to soothe her hiccuping sobs. But Kyujin was so cute, asking so politely—how could she even begin to say no?

She couldn’t, anyway, because she’d been genuinely fucked speechless. All she could manage was a bleary whine, nodding in affirmation, clawing at Kyujin’s back as she thrust eagerly into her. The sound of the toy dragging through her slick-wet walls almost overshadowed the ringing in her ears, the trembling in her thighs. She felt in control of absolutely nothing.

“I’ve wanted to have you like this for so long,” Kyujin panted. “Every time you pissed me off, just wanted to—to fuck it out of you.”

Through the fog of her overstimulation, Yoona realized this was what she’d wanted all along, the underlying absence she’d been unable to put into words. She wanted to bear witness to Kyujin’s pleasure, not just achieve her own.

She worked her hips down to meet Kyujin’s, mindlessly begging and grabbing for her legs, trying to pull her in as close as possible, to keep her inside forever. The pleasure mounting ever-higher in her stomach at this point felt like something exceeding mere sexual release.

Yoona heard Kyujin curse under her breath and knew she was close. "Ah—fuck," Kyujin whined, her words slurring. "Fuck. Unnie, I’m so—close, 'mclose, I'm close, 'mgonna-"

Without warning, Kyujin pushed up onto her knees, pulling Yoona’s hips up to meet her pelvis, thrusting hard and fast until she came with a strangled cry, rutting and grinding and panting for what felt like ages.

Having Kyujin like this, fully in the throes of her pleasure, using Yoona to get off, is what sent her screaming over the edge. Her orgasm ripped through her so intensely that she briefly lost vision—her back arched, vision white, body taut before snapping down into delicious free fall.  

***

When her brain swam back into focus, Kyujin was already cleaning her up, whispering hushed praise as Yoona rejoined the living. “You did so good, unnie," she said, pressing sweet kisses down Yoona's tear-stained cheeks. "So beautiful, so perfect for me.”

The words escaped her before Yoona could even open her eyes.

“Wanna be yours, Kkyu.”

Kyujin blinked once, twice, before her face erupted into a blinding smile. “You are,” she insisted.

“Want you to be mine, Kkyu,” she exhaled.

“I am.” Kyujin nipped playfully at her ear. “I have been.”

A gentle pause. Yoona had never felt so light and loved and satisfied and—

One important question. "Where the fuck did you learn to do all of that?" she croaked.

Kyujin's mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Lots…and lots…of research,” she said. “Wanted to make sure I did everything right.”

Yoona breathed out a laugh. “I should’ve expected as much," she said. “…Scary when you're irritated.”

"I'll take it," Kyujin mused. She tucked a strand of hair behind Yoona’s ear. “Especially if it scares you into taking better care of yourself.”

Yoona rolled her eyes fondly and pat her chest. "C'mere, kitty," she invited.

Kyujin removed the strap and wrapped it neatly in the towel before rejoining Yoona on the bed. She stretched out, languid and lithe, before curling into her unnie's side. Yoona's heart stuttered.

They lay there in gentle silence until Yoona could physically no longer hold back the urge to tease. “You lost your edge at the end there,” she mused.

Kyujin scrunched her nose. “I’m not taking any shit from the unnie who was begging me to cum inside her.”

Yoona closed her eyes firmly. "Respect your elders," she intoned, and heard Kyujin breathe out a laugh beside her.

"Unnie?"

"Hm?"

Kyujin rolled on top of her suddenly, boxing Yoona in with a hand on either side of her head. Her eyes glinted dangerously. "Piss me off like that again and we're playing Tap Out or Black Out.”

Yoona's stomach flipped in a strange mixture of dread and arousal. "What's-"

Kyujin cut her off, kissing her slow and sweet. "Don't worry about it," she murmured, before promptly rolling back over and chirping out a “Night!”

Yoona hoped Kyujin's claws never let her go.