@✾ ⋰ jisung h. There was something about Han Jisung that felt like an addiction to her. She would compare the days when she felt his absence to living without air. And though she was not entirely certain if it was him or just the she missed, she knew that there was something about him that she needed every so often. Much like a junkie needed heroin; a drunk needing liquor.
It felt ridiculous, actually, the notion of needing someone, especially for a girl like her. She was a favored Pearl; it was not as though she was deprived of attention or short on . She spent most of her days underneath someone, lost in the haze of pleasure given to her by either a client or friend. was, in other words, came at an abundance to her. She was an addict, after all. And while she was addicted to itself, she found herself becoming addicted to the people who gave it to her. Certain people, at least—Jisung being one of the few.
She could not explain why she needed him, specifically. Why she always found herself in their messages, begging for him to see her. To take her. To her, even if she had just been ed by another. Truly, it was a mystery to her. Not that she cared to solve it. All she cared about was ending up in his arms all over again, no matter her reason for being as desperate as she was.
Really, all she needed was a fix. And he was always willing to give it to her, the spoiled brat that she was.
"I just need you," she heard herself say as she reached out to cup his cheek, her large, round eyes trained on his. She offered him a sweet smile—the kind that paired perfectly with the nickname he often called her. 'Sweet girl.' She liked that name best; she thought it was different compared to the other, vile names her clients and other s gave her. "You know I don't like it when you hold back. And you promised me that you'd ' me dumb.' Taking things slow isn't 'ing me dumb' is it?"
@✾ ⋰ xiaoting s. It seemed like one way or another, Jisung either found a way into Xiaoting's bed or she found her way into his, choosing to occupy most of their time sweating against each other's skin, or even engaging in conversations that otherwise he'd have no interest in talking about with another person. She had almost become like a drug to him; brain fogged whenever it'd been too long without her around, without her taste to satisfy his cravings. Even on his worst days he'd swear that he could still feel her, the scathing phantom touch of her nails digging into his skin as he brought her to one of many s, as he usually did whenever she blessed him with the prize of her . And when he finally had her? Jisung had never been too interested in drugs, much more preferring to stick to blunts on the occasion that he really felt that he /needed/ something, but the she gave him had to be better than the strongest narcotics they sold here. One alone was enough to leave him at high levels of ecstasy. Yet just like drugs, the higher you get, the harder you crash every time. The feeling he'd get when he rolled over in the morning, her side of the bed lacking the warmth he always expected had got to feel worse than any opioid comedown.
"Finally here," Jisung mumbled to himself and to Xiaoting, that he currently held bridal style in his arms. The girl felt as if she had practically weighed nothing, yet the strain from his inside his slacks was not doing much for his quickly crumbling patience. Still, they had time. They had all night. He could wait a little bit longer for the two to get comfortable, right?
He gently laid her at the edge of his king sized mattress, pressing a gentle kiss at the crown of her head, despite the things he wanted to do to her being anything but. "How are you feeling, sweet girl? I know you said you were sore, so did you want things slow tonight?" Jisung now took her hand, kissing at her knuckles, the side of her wrist, on the inside of her arm before finally going back to her knuckles, brown eyes trained on her own.
