BŁACKPINK: As If It's Your Last....Breathe

The plastic couch cushion feels like a cliff when you're exactly 12 inches tall. You stare up at Jisoo, your hands on your miniature hips, complaining why you need to sleep on the couch.

Jisoo doesn't even look up from her phone. She just flicks her wrist toward the leather sofa. "There is no space. Be glad you get the couch."

Before you can launch a full complaint, footsteps echo down the hall. Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa stroll into the living room. Lisa stops dead in her tracks, squints, and leans down until her face takes up your entire field of vision.

"Wait, he's... just so small? Like a actual ruler?" Lisa asks, poking your shoulder with a single index finger that almost knocks you over.

"Yes," Jisoo sighs dramatically. "Unfortunately."

You had envisioned a glorious month. You were going to live the high life in a dorm, eating expensive takeout and living off your older sister's fame. Instead, you're a foot-tall survivor in a jungle of designer clothes and chaotic idols.

The problems start immediately. While trying to set up your makeshift napkin-blanket on the couch, you trip over a massive, foul-smelling mountain of laundry. It’s Rosé’s gym socks. Pinching your nose, you hoist one giant, heavy sock over your shoulder, march into her room, and dump it on her rug.

Rosé glares at you from her vanity, appalled. "Did a human action-figure just throw my sock at me? Get out!"

Ten minutes later, you find a stray lace bra draped over the couch cushions. You drag it by the strap over to Jennie, who is peacefully drinking iced coffee.

Jennie’s eyes narrow into cat-like slits. "If you touch my Chanel again, I will put you in the blender."

The final straw comes the next morning. You manage to climb on the bathroom sink to take a tiny shower under the running tap. Suddenly, the door swings open. Lisa strolls in, completely unbothered, and sits right down on the toilet. You're shocked and try to complain but the sound and smell of her dump make you choke.

Lisa doesn't even pause. "So what? I'm just pooping. Be thankful you're smelling it instead of eating it."

*By evening, the tension reaches its breaking point. The members are already complaining about you. Jisoo listens quietly, then a slow, devious smirk spreads across her face.

"Yes, he is annoying," Jisoo says, her voice chillingly calm. "We must teach him a lesson. I didn't want him here in the first place."

You relaxing on the couch. Before you noticed, the three girls turn around and spot you on the couch. Rosé and Jennie move with terrifying speed. Rosé scoops you up, and Jennie pins your arms to your sides. Being one foot tall means you have zero leverage; fighting back is like a doll trying to wrestle two giantesses. They drop you flat on the couch cushion. You shout, kicking wildly. Threatening them to said everything to your sister. Jisoo steps out of the kitchen, folding her arms. "I planned it all. Do you think I actually care about you, bug?"

Without an ounce of mercy, Lisa sits down firmly right on your torso, pinning your legs and chest under her full weight. You let out a wheeze.

Before you can finish, Jisoo steps up and sits directly on your face, cutting off your complaints entirely. Rosé and Jennie immediately crowd in, claiming whatever remaining space they can find, your dangling legs and your crotch, using you as a cushion.

Buried under a wall of shorts and big butts, you realize two things: your month at the dorm is going to be absolute torture, and your sister is officially evil.

The heavy dorm door shuts off, and Rosé collapses into the chair, dragging her feet as if they're made of lead. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and her gray oversized sweatshirt is soaked through.

"I'm too sweaty, my gosh," she groans, dropping her gym bag onto the floor with a loud thud. "And my feet... they hurt so bad."

Jisoo looks up from the kitchen island, where she’s calmly peeling an apple. She glances at you, sitting naked like an oversized action figure on the couch, then looks back at Rosé with a sly grin.

"Well," Jisoo says, gesturing at you with her knife, "be thankful someone can be your foot rug." Rosé’s eyes light up with instant realization. A slow, mischievous smile spreads across her face as she turns toward you.

"Hey, bug," Rosé calls out, her voice dangerously sweet. You back up a few inches, your miniature heart pounding against your ribs.

"Come here, you little piece of shit." She pulls you by grabbing your left foot and throws you in her room.

"Lay down," she commands, walking over and towering above you like a skyscraper. Before you can scramble away into the safety, she steps forward. Her socked foot lands on your chest, pressing you flat against the hardwood floor. She puts just enough weight on you to keep you completely pinned, using you as a literal footrest to stretch out her tired, aching arches. "Much better," she sighs, leaning back against the bed with a satisfied gasp. You groan under the crushing weight, flailing your arms uselessly against the side of her foot.

Rosé doesn't budge. Instead, she wiggles her toes slightly, using your torso like a stress ball.

"Maybe do a little work while you're down there, bug, instead of throwing my stuffs." she says, looking down at you with a smirk. "I want a massage so use your body or tongue or whatever...I don't care."

The quiet hum of the dorm’s air conditioner is the only sound in the living room as you finally drift off to sleep. Wrapped in a stray microfiber cloth you managed to scavenge, you’re squeezed into the crease of the sofa cushions, desperate for a few hours of peace away from the four giantesses who run the apartment.

Footsteps softly pad across the hardwood floor. Lisa ambles into the living room, wears a white sleeveless top and loose flannel pajama bottoms. She stops by the couch, rubbing her stomach with a small, uncomfortable grimace. She’d eaten spicy tteokbokki late last night, and her digestive system is mounting a noisy rebellion.

As she pauses by the sofa, her eyes land on your tiny, sleeping form wedged into the cushions. A slow, chaotic grin spreads across her face.

She doesn't hesitate. Pulling her pajama bottoms and underwear down just enough, she turns around and drops her weight onto the couch. Before you can fully blink the sleep from your eyes, her hands—quick and impossibly strong—pin your wrists down against the upholstery. In one smooth, athletic motion, she maneuvers herself down, wedging your face firmly right up against her butt crack.

Your muffled voice barely makes it out. She braces her core, completely ignoring your panicked, miniature protests, and releases a long, thunderous, room-shaking fart right into your face. The sheer force of it vibrates through your entire 12-inch frame, filling your lungs with a cloud of thick, inescapable gas.

"Ahhhh, yes... that is it," Lisa moans in absolute relief, melting back into the couch cushions. "You are literally perfect for this, bug."

Desperate for air, you thrash wildly, kicking your tiny legs and straining every muscle to push her away. But your foot-tall frame is no match for her dancer's build. Her thighs lock you in place like a steel vise, effortlessly clamping down on your small body every time you try to twist free.

The absolute lack of leverage leaves you completely trapped, gasping into the smothering warmth while she casually picks up the TV remote with her free hand, completely unbothered by your struggle.

"Oh wait, there's more." Lisa said while smiling.

PPPPPPRRRRRRFFFFT

A wet fart manages to blast on your face and you're body thrashing badly. She steps on your crotch and legs to stop you from moving.

Jennie drops her workout towel over her shoulder with a frustrated groan, adjusting the resistance knob on her brand-new, sleek indoor exercise bike. She mounts the machine, pedals a few rotations, and immediately winces, shifting her weight from side to side on the rigid plastic seat.

"Aaargh, why is this so uncomfortable?!" she huffs, crossing her arms and glaring down at the rock-hard saddle. "They cost this much and can't even make a proper cushion?"

Her eyes scan the living room for a solution, instantly locking onto you as you are trembling on the couch. A devious light glints in her cat-like eyes. "Wait... I have an idea."

Before you can turn around and sprint for cover under the rug, Jennie leans down, her long fingers snatching you up by your hair as effortlessly as if picking up a stuffed toy.

You yell, kicking your feet in midair. Jennie ignores your squirming entirely, walking you over to the bike. "We must put you to use, tiny," she says coldly.

With practiced precision, she grabs a hair tie from her wrist, wraps it tightly around your tiny waist and legs, and lashes you flat against the bike's narrow saddle. You’re completely pinned, your face pointed straight up at the ceiling.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Jennie swings her leg over the frame and drops her full weight right down onto the seat. Her tight workout leggings and warm crotch completely smother your small face, crushing your nose and mouth beneath her weight.

"Yes! That's it! You're a perfect fit," Jennie purrs happily, feeling the instant difference in padding.

She grabs the handlebars, locks her feet into the pedals, and begins furiously cycling. With every rapid, rhythmic stride, her body shifts and her crotch presses down on your trapped face, grinding you into the leather saddle with every push of the pedals. The steady, heavy pressure leaves you squirming and gasping for air against the slick fabric of her leggings, while Jennie—suddenly full of energy—happily cranks up the resistance, completely motivated to smash her cardio workout.

For a long time, your face pushing on her crotch that makes Jennie moans accidentally.

"Fuck, you're turning me on too? You have double purpose huh? Let's see what can you do." Jennie said while breathing heavily and increasing her speed.

Jisoo balances a steaming hot clay pot full of kimchijigae in both hands, carefully stepping out of the kitchen toward the dining table. You're lying sprawled in the hallway, your miniature body covered in dark bruises and fractured bones from a week of being used as a rug, a seat cushion, and a bicycle pad.

Your tiny frame catches the toe of her slipper. Jisoo stumbles forward, letting out a sharp gasp as her balance gives way. The heavy clay pot flies from her hands, shattering on the hardwood floor and sending scalding broth, tofu, and kimchi splattering everywhere.

Jisoo catches herself against the wall, her breathing heavy as she looks down at the ruin of her hard work. Her eyes slowly shift down to you, burning with absolute rage.

"You idiot! You wasted the food!" she snaps. Before you can crawl away, her slippered foot comes down hard, crushing your face into the wooden floorboards stepping on you continuously.

"So what now? What's your plan, idiot?" she sneers, putting enough pressure on your head to make your ears ring.

You try to plead with her, but your jaw is locked in pain and bruised so badly you can only manage a muffled, pitiful whimper. Jisoo glares at you, rubbing her temple in sheer annoyance as she processes the mess.

"Since we don't have dinner right now, maybe we can just use your body?"

A cold wave of terror washes over you. You begin trembling violently, your 12-inch body shaking against the wood. Jisoo leans down, wraps her fingers tightly around your hair, and yank you off the floor like a piece of raw meat.

"You're already tenderized, so I guess it's okay?" she smirks, her voice chillingly casual. She marches you into the kitchen and tosses you into the stainless steel sink, turning the cold water tap on full blast. You thrash wildly, splashing water everywhere in a desperate attempt to break free from the basin. Jisoo sighs, reaches into a drawer, and pulls out a plastic twist-tie. With cold efficiency, she cranks your arms behind your back and binds your tiny wrists securely to your ankles, folding you into a completely helpless ball.

Footsteps echo from the hallway as the rest of the group wanders toward the noise of the broken pot.

"Hey, what happened here?" Lisa asks, peering over the edge of the counter into the sink with a tilted head.

"This stupid bug tripped me so my hardwork is wasted now I'm just preparing him to be an alternative, Lisa," Jisoo says smoothly, turning to open the pantry. "Get the soy sauce and garlic, we're going to marinate him."

"Jennie, preheat the oven." Jisoo said.

Lisa’s eyes widen with a twisted, playful delight. A slow grin spreads across her face as she leans down until her nose is inches from your wet, tear-streaked face.

"Wait, really?" Lisa purrs, licking her lips slowly as she watches you squirm. "Finally, you're going to have a real use around here, tiny."

Jennie and Rosé just look at you hungrily.

Your own scenario.