Chapter 3: "Nocturnal test"

The midnight rain over Seoul was a gentle, rhythmic percussion against the thick glass of the NMIXX dormitory windows, a distant and soothing hum that swallowed the muffled, neon-lit sounds of the restless city below. A cool, damp night breeze slipped through a narrowly cracked window, carrying the faint, ozonic scent of the storm and weaving it through the heavy, tranquil air of the bedroom. The atmosphere inside was a delicate tapestry of sweet, feminine innocence—the lingering fragrance of peach-scented body lotion, the crisp, clean aroma of laundered silk sheets, and the faint, dying embers of a lavender candle melting down into a pool of warm wax on a nearby desk. The room was bathed in a beautiful, ethereal play of light and shadow, the silver moonlight slicing through the parted curtains to paint long, ghostly geometric shapes across the soft velvet rug.

In this sanctuary of exhausted, sleeping idols, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the hallway.

He moved with the silent, predatory grace of a panther navigating its domain. Y/N was a towering figure of strict authority and raw, European masculinity. At thirty years old, standing 188 centimeters tall and weighing a solid, fiercely muscled 90 kilograms, his presence was entirely incongruous with the delicate surroundings. He was dressed in his signature black Adidas training suit, the fabric moving over his powerful limbs with a faint, almost imperceptible rustle that was instantly masked by the distant patter of the rain. Around his thick, corded neck hung a small, vintage Polaroid camera, the plastic casing catching a stray beam of moonlight with a cold, unblinking gleam.

His dark brown eyes, sharp and calculating, swept the room. He bypassed the deeply breathing forms of Kyujin and Bae, their silhouettes buried beneath mounds of plush, luxurious bedding. His gaze locked onto the farthest bed, bathed perfectly in a shaft of silver moonlight.

There she was. Yonna Seol. Sullyoon.

She looked impossibly small and fragile, her 168-centimeter, 48-kilogram frame swallowed by the oversized, grayish-blue, sweatshirt-style pullover hoodie she wore to bed. The dark gray, charcoal leggings clung tightly to her slender legs, a testament to the grueling dance workouts she endured daily. Her long, dark brown hair was fanned out across the white silk pillowcase like spilled ink, framing a face of such staggering, flawless innocence that it almost seemed a crime to disturb her.

But Y/N knew the filthy, daring secret hiding behind those closed, innocent eyes. He remembered the explicit Polaroid she had so brazenly pinned to the wall of his secret room in the JYP building—a direct, unmistakable invitation. The sheer audacity of the shy rookie had ignited a dark, consuming fire within him. He was here to collect.

Y/N stepped up to the edge of her bed, his large frame blocking out a portion of the moonlight, casting a heavy, commanding shadow over her. He stood there for a long moment, luxuriating in the intoxicating anticipation. The heat radiating from his massive body slowly began to warm the cool air around her. He reached out, his large, calloused hand hovering over her delicate face before his rough thumb gently brushed against the impossibly soft skin of her cheek.

Sullyoon’s long eyelashes fluttered. A soft, confused whimper escaped her lips as her large, brown deer eyes snapped open.

For a fraction of a second, there was only the foggy disorientation of sleep. Then, the massive silhouette looming over her registered, and a jolt of pure, electric terror spiked through her veins. She gasped, her small hands flying to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs with the frantic, terrifying speed of a trapped bird.

"Oppa?" she hissed, the word a fragile, trembling thread of sound that barely disturbed the quiet room. Her eyes went wide as saucers. "What… what are you doing here? You can't be here!"

Y/N didn't flinch. He slowly sank onto the edge of her mattress, the heavy springs groaning softly under his dense weight. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, the intoxicating scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne and raw, masculine musk completely overpowering her senses.

"You left something in my private sanctuary, little deer," Y/N murmured, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that seemed to bypass her ears and resonate directly in the pit of her stomach. "A very daring piece of art. Did you really think you could hang an explicit picture of yourself on my wall and I wouldn't come to inspect the real thing?"

Sullyoon’s face went from pale to a deep, burning crimson. She glanced frantically at the sleeping form of Kyujin just a few feet away, her chest heaving beneath her oversized hoodie.

"Oppa, please," she begged in a frantic whisper, her hands reaching out to lightly touch the sturdy fabric of his Adidas jacket. "It’s not possible here. Everyone is asleep. Kyujin is a very light sleeper. If she wakes up and sees you… my career, your job… everything will be ruined."

Y/N reached up and unhooked the small Polaroid camera from around his neck, setting it down on her wooden nightstand with a definitive, heavy thud. The sound made her jump.

"I'll come to the secret room tomorrow," she pleaded softly, her deer eyes shimmering with a mix of fear and a desperate, budding arousal. "I promise, Oppa. I'll let you fuck me tomorrow. I'll do anything you want. Just… please leave before you’re caught."

Y/N looked down at her, his strict, handsome face utterly unyielding. The silver moonlight caught the sharp angle of his jaw and the dark, predatory gleam in his brown eyes.

"I don't make appointments for rookies, fawn," he whispered, his tone brokering no argument. "This is your nocturnal test. You wanted my attention? You have it. I need to see your body in the real world. I need a little test drive to see if you are actually worth fucking regularly, or if you're just a shy little girl playing with fire."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, sending a violent shiver down her spine. "So, you have a choice, my sweet Bambi. Either I try you out right here, right now, to see if you can handle what I have to give… or I walk out that door, and you will never, ever experience my eighteen centimeters. You’ll just be a good little idol forever, wondering what it feels like."

The ultimatum hung in the cool, rain-scented air, heavy and absolute. Sullyoon stopped breathing. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat feeling like a stone. She looked into his dark eyes, the sheer, dominant authority radiating from him completely short-circuiting her anxiety.

Her mind flashed back to Saturday night. The secret room. The hidden mirror. She remembered watching Jihyo, the proud, formidable leader of Twice, pinned against the glass, stripped of all her power, begging and moaning in pure, unadulterated ecstasy as Y/N dismantled her. She remembered how the sight of his thick, rhythmic thrusts had sent a spike of wet heat straight to her core. She remembered sneaking back to this very bed, slipping her inexperienced fingers beneath her own panties, and imagining Y/N’s strict, commanding voice in her ear as she fingered herself to the hardest, most shattering climax of her entire life.

The fear in her chest melted away, entirely consumed by a thick, syrupy heat pooling low in her belly. A small, shy, yet incredibly wicked smile broke through her nervousness, curving her soft lips.

Y/N saw the shift in her doe eyes. The surrender. The raw, untapped hunger bleeding through her innocent facade. It was the exact sign he was looking for.

"Good girl," he praised softly, the playful, witty edge of his personality bleeding into his strict demeanor. He sat up straight and pointed a commanding finger at her. "Get up."

Sullyoon didn't hesitate. She threw off her heavy silk duvet and slid out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the soft velvet rug. She stood before him, her knees trembling slightly under his intense, burning scrutiny.

Y/N stayed seated, his eyes roaming over the loose, grayish-blue hoodie and the tight charcoal leggings that hid her figure. Slowly, he reached out. His large hands gripped the hem of her sweatshirt. He pulled the thick fabric up, his knuckles intentionally brushing against the warm, bare skin of her stomach, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. He pulled the hoodie over her head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. Next, his hands moved to the waistband of her tight leggings, peeling them down her long, slender legs until she stepped out of them.

Sullyoon stood before him in the moonlight, completely bare save for a pair of pink Hello Kitty panties. She instinctively tried to cover her small "a" size breasts with her arms, her cheeks burning as the cool night breeze caressed her flushed skin.

Y/N stared at the childish underwear, a genuine, deep chuckle vibrating in his broad chest. "Hello Kitty, Bambi? Really? You write a filthy invitation demanding to be my cumslut, and you show up wearing cartoons on your crotch?"

"I… I didn't know you were coming tonight," she stammered, biting her bottom lip in embarrassment.

"Drop your arms," he commanded, the humor instantly vanishing, replaced by a strict, heavy expectation.

She obeyed instantly, letting her arms fall to her sides, fully exposing her pale, flawless, nearly untouched body to the silver moonlight and his ravenous gaze. Y/N’s eyes darkened to pitch. She was breathtaking. Fresh meat. He leaned forward, his face burying into the soft, fragrant skin of her flat stomach. He pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss just above the waistband of her childish panties, inhaling the sweet, powdery scent of her skin mixed with the musky, intoxicating pheromones of her growing arousal.

Sullyoon gasped softly, her fingers tangling tentatively in his short, thick black hair.

"Beautiful," he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and wet, making her tremble violently. "Now, make my cock ready."

He pulled back and lay down flat on her small bed, his broad shoulders and massive frame taking up almost the entire mattress. He looked up at her, his hands resting behind his head in a posture of total, arrogant dominance.

Sullyoon climbed onto the mattress, kneeling between his muscular thighs. Her hands shook violently as she reached for the waistband of his black Adidas pants. The sharp, metallic rasp of the zipper seemed deafening in the quiet room, but the rhythmic sound of the rain outside masked it perfectly. She pulled the thick fabric down, along with his dark boxer briefs, completely freeing the object of her intense, secret desire.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her deer eyes widened to their absolute limits.

His eighteen-centimeter cock sprang free, hitting his taut stomach with a heavy, wet slap. It was thick, monstrously heavy, and pulsing with hot, angry blood. The thick veins wrapping around the shaft throbbed in the dim light. It was a weapon of pure pleasure, resting against his tanned, muscular thighs, completely at her mercy.

She hovered over it, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Tentatively, she brought her small hand to her mouth. She parted her lips and let a thick, glistening drop of spit fall from her tongue, watching it land squarely on the broad, velvet-soft, ultra-sensitive head of his shaft. She wrapped her small, trembling fingers around his immense girth, her hand barely able to close completely, and began to stroke him, her movements slow, hesitant, and purely experimental.

"That’s a start," Y/N murmured, his brown eyes watching her every move with hawkish intensity. "But if you want to pass this test, my sweet Bambi, you need to use your sweet little mouth."

Sullyoon paused, looking up at him through her long, dark lashes, her face a portrait of shy insecurity. "Oppa… I… I've never given a blowjob before. I don't know how to do it. What if I'm bad at it?"

"I didn't ask if you wanted to do it, or if you had experience," Y/N replied smoothly, his strict tone wrapping around her like a heavy chain. "I asked you to prove your worth. Show me what you can do. Put your mouth on me."

She swallowed hard, the magnitude of the task dawning on her. Slowly, she lowered her head. The scent of his arousal—a heady, musky, salty, and intensely masculine aroma—filled her senses, making her head spin with intoxicating desire. She hovered just millimeters away from the blistering heat radiating off his skin.

She pressed her soft, plump lips against the side of his shaft, leaving a wet, tender kiss on the hot, pulsing vein.

"Go on, give it a try," he whispered, a hint of genuine encouragement breaking through his strict demeanor. "Taste me, Sullyoon."

She opened her mouth and darted her tongue out, dragging the wet, hot muscle slowly up the underside of his shaft. The taste of salt, clean sweat, and sheer male dominance flooded her tastebuds. She dragged her tongue over the swollen, purple ridge of the head, tasting the slick bead of pre-cum that had gathered at the slit.

A soft, rumbling groan vibrated deep in Y/N's chest, a sound so primal and approving that it sent a massive thrill of power through her inexperienced body.

Growing bolder, she opened her mouth wider, stretching her jaw, and enveloped the massive head. The blistering heat inside her mouth contrasted sharply with the cool night air in the room. She was clumsy at first, her teeth accidentally scraping against the sensitive skin of his shaft, her rhythm disjointed. But Y/N didn't scold her. He lay back, his hands gripping the silk sheets, letting her learn.

She adjusted, wrapping her soft lips tightly over her teeth to form a wet, suctioning seal. She began to bob her head, sucking gently as her small hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, attempting to match her strokes to the rhythm of her mouth. The wet, slick sounds of her oral worship began to fill the quiet space, harmonizing with the rain outside.

Y/N watched her, utterly mesmerized by the sight of the shy, pure NMIXX visual devotedly worshiping him in the moonlight. He could tell she was entirely inexperienced, but the sheer conviction, the desperate eagerness to please him, the way her doe eyes looked up at him for approval—it made up for her lack of skill tenfold. It had been a long, long time since he’d had a completely blank canvas to teach, to mold into his perfect toy, and he found the prospect incredibly, mind-numbingly turning on.

"Good. Very good, fawn," he praised, his voice thick with building lust. He reached down, his large hand burying into her long brown hair, stroking the silky strands. "Now, open your throat. Go deeper."

Sullyoon pushed herself, eager to obey. She slid her mouth further down the thick column of flesh. The sheer size of him stretched her jaw uncomfortably, but she wanted to be good for him. She wanted to be his. She took him deeper, deeper still, her nose burying into his dark pubic hair, until the massive head of his cock brushed against the sensitive back of her throat.

Suddenly, her body betrayed her. Her throat convulsed violently, and she gagged, a wet, choking sound escaping around his thick flesh. Panic flared in her wide eyes, and she immediately tried to pull her head back, desperate for air.

But Y/N’s hand shot from her hair to the back of her delicate neck, his strong fingers gripping her firmly. He didn't let her retreat.

"Stay," he commanded, a breathless, demanding edge to his voice.

He pressed her head back down, holding her firmly in place as she gagged again, the thick, pulsing meat of his cock completely filling her mouth and throat, stretching her past her limits. The intrusion was absolute.

Tears sprang to her brown eyes, spilling over her thick lashes and running down her flushed cheeks, dripping hotly onto his muscular thighs. She whimpered around him, her small hands gripping his hips as she struggled against the overwhelming invasion. Y/N held her there for a few agonizing, intensely intimate seconds, letting her feel the absolute, unyielding dominance of his position, forcing her to internalize exactly what it meant to be his toy.

He plays. She serves.

Realizing she truly couldn't take it anymore, that the gagging was becoming too intense, he mercifully released his iron grip on her neck.

Sullyoon shot up, freeing her mouth with a loud, wet, popping sound. She gasped quietly for air, coughing softly into her hand, her small chest heaving as tears streamed down her flushed, saliva-slicked face. She looked at him, her eyes wide with fear, terrified she had failed his test.

But Y/N’s face was soft. He was a strict master, but a generous one. She had shown him she was willing to suffer for his pleasure, that she was fully committed to the role she had begged for. That was all the proof he needed.

He sat up on the bed, his massive chest brushing against her knees. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from her cheek, smearing her own saliva across her skin. He tapped the mattress beside him.

"Lie down, Bambi."

Still catching her breath, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm, Sullyoon scooted up the bed and lay back against the silk pillows. Y/N shifted his weight, his massive body looming over her, entirely caging her in. He looked down at her tear-stained, flushed face, her lips still glossy and swollen from his cock.

He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate, smacking, completely devouring kiss.

Sullyoon melted instantly into the mattress. His mouth was demanding, hot, and tasting intensely of his own musky arousal. She opened for him eagerly, their tongues tangling in a slow, wet, fervently deep dance. The taste of him on her own tongue was an intoxicating loop of sensual feedback.

As he kissed her, swallowing her soft, breathy moans, Y/N’s large hand trailed down the smooth expanse of her stomach. His long fingers slipped effortlessly beneath the elastic waistband of her pink Hello Kitty panties.

He bypassed the cotton and immediately found her center. She was soaking, dripping wet, her slick, boiling hot juices pooling heavily between her swollen, sensitive lips. He coated his fingers in her natural wetness and slowly, deliberately, slid a thick, calloused finger deep inside her tight, unused core.

Sullyoon flinched violently, her back arching entirely off the mattress as a sharp, high-pitched whimper tore from her throat, muffled directly into his devouring mouth.

She had slept with a guy two or three times before—awkward, hurried, clumsy encounters with young idol trainees who didn't know what they were doing. But this... this was entirely different. This was a man. A dominant, experienced man who knew exactly the angle, the pressure, the perfect, agonizing rhythm to completely unlock her body.

He began to pump his finger inside her, his thumb finding her ultra-sensitive clit and rubbing it with a firm, relentless, circular motion. The sheer sensory overload was intoxicating. The scent of melting lavender wax mingled with the heavy, primal, iron-rich smell of their rapidly building arousal. The friction of the silk sheets beneath her bare, trembling back felt like thousands of tiny electrical sparks.

"You’re so tight, little deer. So incredibly wet for me," Y/N whispered roughly against her lips, breaking the kiss just enough to speak, his breath fanning across her flushed face. "Just let yourself go. I'm going to give you so much pleasure."

Her big doe eyes looked up at him, sparkling with unshed tears and an overwhelming, desperate anticipation. "Yes, Oppa… please."

Y/N withdrew his hand, his fingers shining with her slickness in the moonlight. He gripped the edges of her Hello Kitty panties and stripped them down her long legs, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

He shifted his hips, moving between her spread thighs. He positioned the broad, dripping head of his thick, eighteen-centimeter cock directly against her slick, trembling entrance. He looked at her one last time, watching her small chest heave, watching the total surrender in her eyes, before he pushed his hips forward.

Sullyoon let out a sharp, choked gasp as he breached her. The stretch was immense, a delicious, burning, overwhelming fullness that she had never, ever experienced in her life. He slid into her almost unused, nubile body with agonizing slowness, inch by incredibly slow inch, forcing her tight, internal walls to accommodate his incredible, unyielding girth.

The contrast of his massive 1.9-meter, 90-kilogram frame pressing her petite, 48-kilogram body deep into the mattress was visually and physically staggering. She felt entirely consumed by him.

Once he was buried to the hilt, hitting her cervix with a dull, heavy ache of pleasure, he stopped. He rested his weight on his forearms, hovering over her, letting their bodies acclimate to the extreme stretch. The room was deathly quiet, save for the distant, rhythmic sound of the rain and their harsh, ragged breathing.

"Is this what you wanted, Sullyoon?" he asked, his voice a dark, heavy whisper that vibrated through his chest and directly into hers.

"Yes," she moaned softly, her eyes rolling back slightly as her small hands gripped his broad, muscular shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin. "Oh god, yes, Oppa. It’s so big… it feels so good. You feel so good."

Y/N began to move. He pulled his hips back, dragging his thick shaft almost entirely out of her soaking wet core, before driving deep inside her tight entrance with a smooth, powerful thrust.

The rhythm started slow, a deep, grinding friction that made Sullyoon’s mind go completely blank. With every thrust, the heat radiating between their bodies intensified, turning the space between them into a furnace. The dampness of their sweat-slicked skin acted as a natural lubricant, producing a heavy, wet, rhythmic slapping sound as their bodies collided.

As the deep, internal pressure mounted, hitting her G-spot with mathematical precision on every downward stroke, Sullyoon began to lose whatever fragile control she had left. Her soft moans grew louder, more frantic, turning into breathy, high-pitched whines that threatened to shatter the silence of the dorm room and wake the sleeping girls just feet away.

"Shh," Y/N commanded, his pace suddenly quickening into a hard, fast, utterly feral rhythm. "Be quiet, Bambi. You’ll wake them."

"I can't… Oppa, I can't help it! Ahhh! Ahhh!" she cried out softly, her head thrashing side to side on the silk pillow, her hips bucking up desperately to meet his punishing, relentless thrusts.

Y/N leaned his head down, bringing his thick, sweat-slicked, muscular neck right to her parted, gasping lips.

"Bite me," he ordered, his voice a ragged, breathless command. "Bite me to stifle your moans. Do it."

Sullyoon didn't hesitate. Driven entirely by instinct and the overwhelming tsunami of pleasure building in her womb, she opened her mouth and clamped her teeth down hard onto the corded muscle of his neck.

As a massive, earth-shattering wave of ecstasy crashed over her, her muffled, desperate screams vibrated directly against his skin. Her internal walls clamped down violently around his thick shaft, milking him with rhythmic, spasming contractions. She came violently, her small body trembling and shuddering uncontrollably beneath him, her fingernails digging bloody, crescent-shaped half-moons into the broad expanse of his back.

But Y/N didn't stop. He fucked straight through her climax, his deep, rhythmic thrusts merciless and precise, ignoring the pain in his neck, driving her higher and higher until she was caught in a continuous, rolling, agonizingly euphoric loop of ecstasy.

She came over and over again, her brain melting into a puddle of pure, unadulterated bliss, her jaw aching from how hard she was biting his flesh to keep her screams locked away from the sleeping members of NMIXX. The room smelled of sex, sweat, and absolute, feral surrender.

Finally, the incredible friction and the tight, milking grip of her ruined, spasming pussy became too much even for his iron-clad stamina. Y/N’s breathing grew ragged and harsh, his thrusts losing their calculated, steady rhythm and becoming desperate, animalistic, ground-shaking lunges.

"Oppa… please," Sullyoon moaned softly, finally releasing her bite on his neck. She fell back against the pillows, her voice a broken, breathy plea, her eyes glazed with tears of pleasure. "I'm ready… fill me. Give me the load. I want it so much. Please, Oppa."

Y/N felt the undeniable, heavy pressure of his climax building at the base of his spine, threatening to explode. He looked down at her beautiful, flushed, completely thoroughly fucked face, her doe eyes pleading for his seed to fill her womb.

A wicked, dominant, incredibly strict smirk crossed his handsome face.

"Not yet, little deer," he grunted, the muscles in his jaw ticking. "You don't get the prize that easily."

Just as his climax broke, Y/N yanked his hips backward, pulling his massive, throbbing cock completely out of her soaking wet, quivering core.

Sullyoon gasped, a sound of sheer, agonizing deprivation, her hips bucking up on empty air as he stood up from the bed. His massive chest heaved with extreme exertion, his thick cock standing rigidly at attention, weeping thick drops of pre-cum in the silver moonlight.

"If you want to be a cumslut, Sullyoon," he explained, his voice strict, cold, and commanding even through his heavy, ragged breathing, "you have to earn it. You have to obey my rules to the exact letter."

He reached into the pocket of his discarded Adidas jacket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it, the sudden, bright glare of the screen casting a harsh, unforgiving light in the dim, romantic room. He opened the camera app, hitting the record button.

He pointed the lens down at his own pulsing, thick, wet cock, capturing the sheer size of the weapon that had just ruined her, then slowly panned the camera up to capture Sullyoon.

She was a living masterpiece of beautiful ruin—lying completely naked on her bed, her long hair a messy, sweaty halo on the pillow, her skin flushed a deep, mottled red, her legs still spread wide open, her pink, swollen lips slick and dripping with her own thick juices.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Get on your knees on the edge of the bed."

Trembling violently, her small body still humming and twitching with the aftershocks of her multiple orgasms, Sullyoon obeyed without a second thought. She crawled to the edge of the mattress, the sheets clinging to her damp skin, and sat back on her heels, completely exposed, vulnerable, and submissive to the unblinking lens of his camera.

"Now," Y/N instructed, moving the phone closer to her face, his thumb rubbing the head of his cock just off-screen to build the pressure. "Look into the camera. Greet your Twice unnies. Tell them exactly who you are, and what you are now."

Sullyoon looked directly at the lens. Her doe eyes were wide, glassy, and swimming with a mixture of profound humiliation and submissive, absolute adoration. She swallowed hard, finding her voice in the quiet room.

"Hello, Twice unnies," she whispered, her voice husky, sweet, and trembling with leftover pleasure. "I'm Sullyoon… from NMIXX. And… and I'm Y/N Oppa's new toy. I'm just his little cumslut."

"Good girl," Y/N groaned, his voice dropping an entire octave.

He didn't wait another second. His large, calloused hand wrapped tightly around the base of his shaft, stroking himself with rapid, furious, punishing speed. Within moments, he let out a low, guttural, animalistic growl.

A thick, hot rope of bright white cum shot through the cool air, landing heavily with a wet smack squarely on Sullyoon’s cheek. She flinched slightly at the sudden, blistering heat of it, but she stayed perfectly, obediently still.

A second, heavier wave splashed violently across her forehead, the thick fluid dripping down into her dark eyelashes, gluing them together. A third, massive wave hit her chin, splashing over her slightly parted lips, the salty, musky taste of him landing right on her tongue.

He continued to milk himself, his hand a blur of motion, painting her innocent, beautiful, idol face with his potent, thick seed until his balls ached and he was completely, utterly spent.

Sullyoon kept her eyes closed, breathing heavily, feeling the heavy, warm, sticky weight of his climax slowly cooling against her flushed skin in the night air. She didn't wipe it away. She let it drip down her chin, a small, dazed, incredibly satisfied, and utterly ruined grin spreading across her cum-smeared mouth.

Y/N stopped recording and casually tossed the phone onto the rumpled bed. He immediately reached over to the nightstand and picked up the vintage Polaroid camera.

He lifted the viewfinder to his eye, framing her perfectly.

Sullyoon opened one eye—the other glued firmly shut by his thick, sticky cum—and instinctively brought her hands up to her chest. She crossed her thumb and index finger, making a pair of cute, aegyo finger hearts right beneath her cum-drenched chin.

Click. Whirrrrr.

The blinding white flash illuminated the dark room for a fraction of a second, perfectly capturing the ultimate, degrading contrast: the pure, innocent, beloved K-pop idol striking a cute, fan-service pose with a face absolutely glazed in thick, raw semen.

Y/N pulled the developing photo from the top slot and slowly shook it in the cool air, watching as the ghostly image began to materialize into sharp, undeniable proof of his conquest. He looked down at the real Sullyoon, who was still kneeling submissively on the edge of the mattress, waiting breathlessly for his final verdict.

"You’re a cutie, Bambi," he said, his tone incredibly light, laced with that witty, playful humor she was rapidly beginning to crave like a drug. "I have to admit, that wasn't bad for a first try."

He tucked the developing photo into the breast pocket of his jacket and began to pull his black Adidas pants back up, fastening the waistband with a crisp, professional snap. He picked up his jacket, turning his broad back to her as he dressed, acting as if the intense, feral, life-altering intimacy of the last hour had been nothing more than a casual, late-night workout.

Sullyoon blinked her one open eye, her pink tongue darting out to lick a stray, thick drop of his cum from her top lip, savoring the salty taste of her master. She looked utterly puzzled by his sudden, jarring shift in demeanor. He hadn't said she was his now. He hadn't promised her a coveted spot on the weekly schedule behind the mirror.

"…Does that mean you're coming back, Oppa?" she asked, her voice impossibly small, laced with desperate, needy confusion. "Or… am I going to the secret room tomorrow?"

Y/N paused at the dormitory door, his hand resting on the handle. He turned his head, a wicked, strict, incredibly handsome grin playing on his face in the silver moonlight.

"It means you passed. Phase One," he said smoothly, his voice a soft, dangerous promise. "Phase Two comes if you prove you can be a good girl and keep this to yourself. Sleep well, little deer…" He paused, gesturing vaguely to his own face with a smirk. "And you might want to wipe your face before Kyujin wakes up and thinks you had a massive midnight milk spill."

With that, Y/N slipped out the door, closing it silently behind him with a soft click. He vanished into the dark, quiet hallway, leaving the NMIXX dorm as quietly and unobtrusively as he had arrived, leaving Sullyoon kneeling alone in the dark—sticky, ruined, exhausted, and absolutely, hopelessly addicted.