Temple

***

Lee Nagyung's phone buzzed against her thigh as the stylist tugged the last pin from her hair. The dressing room smelled like hairspray and someone's vanilla perfume, sticky under the heat of too many bodies crammed into one space. She glanced down and saw three new messages from him, all variations of "You look fucking unreal in that dress" paired with increasingly inappropriate emojis. The corners of her mouth twitched.

Outside, a full roar of the crowd pulsed through the walls. Seoyeon was half-hanging off Jiheon's shoulder while Saerom adjusted her own cleavage in the mirror, the standard pre-performance. Nagyung caught Chaeyoung's raised eyebrow in the reflection and deliberately arched her back deeper into the chair, letting the silk strain across her chest as she typed back.

"Wait till you see what's under it," her thumbs tapped, then hesitated. She added a winking emoji and hit send just as Saerom shouted at everyone to line up.

Backstage, the curtains swallowed all sound except the MC's voice announcing their win. Nagyung's pulse jumped when the spotlight found them, white dresses glowing with their beauty, the perfect legs moving in unison up the stairs.

By the time they reached backstage again, sweat rolled down her thighs and the silk clung wetly between them. She ducked into the dressing room first, ignoring Jiwon's whine about stolen mirror time, and locked the door with a satisfying click. Nagyung grabbed her phone from the table, there’s already three missed calls, two new texts, each more urgent than the last. She leaned against the vanity, spreading her legs just enough that her reflection showed the exact moment her dress's high slit gaped open.

He texted. "You're going to kill me." She bit her lip. "The way you moved your hips during the bridge—Fuck!!, I could see everything." Her fingers traced the dampness along her inner thigh, pressing into the silk. "Tell me you're not wearing anything under that dress."

Nagyung laughed, twisting the phone just enough to capture the shadowed dip between her thighs in the mirror. "Of course I wear something under there, dummy," she murmured, thumb hovering over send. One perfect shot of black lace stretched taut where she was wettest. "Couldn't take the risk." Her pulse hammered as she typed the rest: "Unless you wanted the whole world to see my bare pussy glistening under stage lights?"

The phone vibrated violently against her palm before she finished speaking. "No, your body and pussy is only mine." The possessive growl in his text made her toes curl against the dressing room carpet.

Nagyung's lips parted as she typed one-handed, the other slipping beneath the slit of her dress to trace the damp lace. "Then come claim what's yours," she sent, then immediately followed with, "Worship me, Sweetie."

The dressing room door rattled under three sharp knocks. "Nagyung-ah!" Jiwon's voice carried through the thin wood, sing-song and knowing. "We're doing the ending shots in five! Stop jerking off your boyfriend through text!"

Nagyung's fingers stilled against soaked lace, breath hitching as she glanced at her reflection—flushed cheeks, lips swollen from where she'd been biting them, the dress's neckline slipping dangerously off one shoulder. She typed with shaking fingers: "Gotta go. But tonight?" She attached the mirror selfie where her hand disappeared under silk, the wet spot unmistakable. "I'm not wearing this later."

The door rattled again. "Yah! If you make us late, I'm telling Dispatch your 'appointment' is at a love motel!" Hayoung cackled. Nagyung shoved her phone into her bag.

The ending stage blurred past with hands waving, confetti catching in their hair. Nagyung's thighs rubbed slick with every step, the black lace chafing deliciously where she needed it most. The car door slid shut behind them. Nagyung's phone buzzed against her.

"So are we going to have dinner to celebrate our trophy tonight?" Jiheon chirped, bouncing off the seat.

"Nagyung definitely has a different menu planned," Chaeyoung smirked, reaching over to pinch Nagyung's thigh right where the dress slit gaped open. The sudden contact made her jump, the damp lace shifting against sensitive flesh.

"Yah!" Nagyung slapped Chaeyoung's hand away, but not before feeling her own wetness smear against the other girl's fingers. Chaeyoung's eyes widened comically as she wiped her hand on the seat with exaggerated disgust. "Disgusting! You're actually dripping through your panties!"

Jiheon squealing into her hands, Seoyeon choking on her water, while Jiwon leaned over the seats to peer at Nagyung's thighs with scientific interest. "Wow. You really are desperate, huh?" Jiwon tapped the flushed skin just above Nagyung's stocking line, making her jerk. "Look at this. Her whole thigh's twitching. Did your oppa promise to fuck you stupid tonight or something?"

Nagyung crossed her legs tightly, the wet lace pressing against her clit with friction. The car hit a pothole and she gasped, her back arching off the seat. Chaeyoung wolf-whistled. "Holy shit, she's basically humping air now. You're worse than a bitch in heat."

"Yahh, shut up," Nagyung hissed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. The movement made her dress slip dangerously low, revealing the damp outline of her nipple through the white silk. "At least my pussy and ass is getting eaten tonight, not like you guys who'll be crying into your dildo alone."

Chaeyoung clutched her chest dramatically. "Bold words for someone whose panties are literally melting off." She leaned forward, whispering just loud enough for the car to hear, "Tell me, does it ache? That desperate little clit?" Nagyung's thighs clenched involuntarily. Chaeyoung laughed, "Y–you're leaking through the seat!"

Saerom's voice sliced through the chaos like a scalpel. "Enough." She didn't raise her voice, but the members froze mid-giggle. "Nagyung-ah," she purred, tracing the edge of her own collar, "enjoy your... banquet tonight." Her smirk widened as Nagyung's breath hitched. "But remember—" she leaned forward, nails scraping Nagyung's knee through the dress slit, "tomorrow we feast on details."

The car swerved toward the company building, streetlights streaking gold across Nagyung's thighs where they clenched together. Chaeyoung whistled low. "Look at her thighs shaking. Oppa better have nutritional supplements ready." Jiwon fake-coughed "Protein shake!"

Saerom's manicured nail tapped Nagyung's knee, the pressure deliberate through the silk. "Seriously though," she murmured while the others cackled, "I expect a full damage report tomorrow." Her smirk deepened as she traced the damp spot spreading along Nagyung's inner thigh. "Down to the last...detail."

The car jolted to a stop outside the company building. Nagyung's thighs slapped together instinctively—a wet sound that made Jiheon clap both hands over her mouth. Before the staff could open the sliding door, Chaeyoung grabbed Nagyung's wrist and pressed her fingertips to the black panty barely containing her. "My god," Chaeyoung hissed, "you're practically sloshing. You'd better Uber straight there before you ruin the seats."