#or dedication to Following The Rules
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umbrellajam · 1 year ago
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#barbara almost headshotted black mask but tim made a joke about using guns he's clearly barely refraining from killing someone /s #sorry. just. it's like tim always gets called out for this in particular and he's not even the worst offender #this is fucking gun batman's fault isn't it. he's my worst enemy for a reason and the worst mistake ever #was bringing him back after the one stupid story like he's some kind of inevitability when the point #is that tim would genuinely rather die than become him. #don't talk to me about that guy (gun batman) i hate him #anyways the point is that they're all in conversation with themselves about why they do what they do #it's actually super important that they are! because it's very human to want to go against your morals if it seems easier #and the point is that it takes strength of character to make a conscious choice to do what you think is right #even when it's hard and it's the last thing you want to do (@scintillyyy)
also i think there's a tendency to cherrypick tim's moments of morally grey thought musings as a gotcha for the idea that tim is totally cool with murder and just one bad day away from shanking someone only kept in line by the "rules", when in reality. tim's thoughts of moral greyness, the ruminations on what they're doing and why they're doing it the way they do and why they can't cross the line they set. he's not. alone in that. like. at ALL. dick has reckoned with wanting to kill someone (sigh. the joker). dick lowkey didn't want to give someone a chance at redemption simply because he hurt bruce (bane). bruce has thought about killing (and almost killed) both the joker & black mask. bruce is very frequently ruminating on his role and why he can't kill even if he wants to. barbara has very seriously considered killing and has wanted to kill. cassandra has killed and used that as the basis of her staunch belief that nobody dies tonight, but she's also still in frequent conversation with what that means ethically and morally. tim having doubts or trying to remind himself why they do what they do or debating their rules to himself is not some grand outlying abnormality here, it's par for the fucking course.
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araneitela · 1 year ago
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WHICH SYMBOLIC FRUIT ARE YOU?
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Cherry. (Man, this is going to need some tag rambling; because while it's what I suspected and it's very fitting in many ways, I need to address one element).
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In popular culture, cherries have come to represent sensuality, sex, and seduction. In the cult classic, Twin Peaks, Audrey Horne expresses her sexual expertise by tying a cherry stem with her tongue. "Cherry" is also used to refer to the concept of virginity: why? I don't know to be honest, but here we are. Much like the cherry, you're a sensual person who enjoys all the creature comforts the world offers. You enjoy delicious food, dynamic relationships, passionate lovemaking and stimulating conversation; however, you may also come across a touch vapid or shallow, due to your quickly fading attention when something has served its usefulness to you. To quote some man on tinder: "you're here for a good time, not a long time". You can come across, at times, slightly tart, carrying a bit of a bite to you that not everyone can handle. That’s okay: you’re an acquired taste!
Tagged: @basbousah (Thank you 🩷) Tagging: I don't tend to tag for quizzes easily but this one was actually fun, so let's harass. @immobiliter (how about Furina?) @kushtibokt @genus83 @genius81 @spiderwarden @delusionaid (Wriothesley, or Zhongli— porque no los dos? 🤭) @apocryphis (Topaz) @aventvrina @resolutepath (Elio) @daybreakrising (Blade) @astrxlfinale @kahakera @cygnor @chasersglow @scrtilegii (Jing Yuan)... and anyone else who'd like to do it, say I tagged you because I'd love to see the results!
#[ games. ] the game only works when we follow the rules; though i'll be none the wiser if they're broken. let morality be your guide.#[ this has been open in a tab since yesterday. ]#[ okay but i actually /love/ this result. BUT LET ME SPECIFY-- to those who haven't read my other post. ]#[ please read 'sex' and 'seduction' through a very old fashioned lens. very old fashioned. ]#[ and then i think it's a lot more fitting. think film noir/1940s femme fatale /instead/ of the modern femme fatale and you got it. ]#[ seductive in the way that a woman can be inherently alluring. ]#[ sex in the way that it /is/ something she engages in. but in the way that one does without overindulging at all. no promiscuity. ]#[ i'm not saying religious-type 'it means everything'. but i'll forever live by that line by blade. ]#[ “she must have sought something extraordinary. everything she does comes at a great cost.” ]#[ the thing is-- he knows she lacks fear. so i don't see 'at a great cost' being a value tied to anything because of personal risk. ]#[ or fear of chasing after it. it also means something that it comes from blade. who likely also has an interesting tie to 'fear'. ]#[ but any way that means 'at a great cost' means investment/engagement (time. effort. sacrifice?) ]#[ which shows a deep rooted dedication to something. which speaks to me of a certain passion that needs to propel something like that. ]#[ and if we take passion into the equation-- then i think that fits for how she speaks and handles everything blade and tb-related. ]#[ then i also can see 'sex' very fitting. she would; when engaging in it; be incredibly all-encompassing but not in a 'dominatrix' way. ]#[ nor a traditional 'dominant' way. but simply incredibly present. engaged. passionate. ]#[ those two things can fit incredibly next to sensuality if you simply look at it from a specific lens that isn't casual and/or modern. ]#[ outside of that... dynamic relationships? ☑️ stimulating conversation? ☑️ which PLAYS INTO THE NEXT PART. ]#[ which is /yes/ she is bored. she gets bored. you /need/ to be able to stimulate her by having something of your own to interest her. ]#[ she also wouldn't/doesn't like people who serve her every whim. no. have your own interests. ]#[ as to elaborate on an acquired taste: she isn't everyone's cup of tea. if you don't have something that interests her-- you won't... ]#[ enjoy being around her. if she doesn't /like/ you. you won't think she's fun. in /that/ she's an acquired taste. ]#[ and has a bit of a bite. ]
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fudge24-7 · 1 year ago
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I'm curious, has anyone ever thought to do a smash or pass with different artists' versions of spamton?
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fate-defiant · 2 years ago
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ahiru and freya?
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They're just very cutesy and very sweet not much to say. Two little oddballs <3
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tentakrool · 2 months ago
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some facts about robert prevost (leo xiv) that i think are important to know:
while he was born in chicago, he has spent the vast majority of his life outside of america. he went to rome at a young age, then spent most of his priesthood in peru
pope leo xiii was well known for his interest in social justice -- the fact that prevost chose this name may show that he also nurses an interest
he was one of pope francis' closest advisors
he's described as being balanced in terms of his outlook, but has progressive views on some specific issues, including migrants and poverty
he is relatively young -- we will probably have pope leo xiv for a long time
quote from CBS article: "While Prevost is seen overall as a centrist, on some key social issues he's viewed as progressive. He has long embraced marginalized groups, a lot like Francis, who championed migrants and the poor."
another quote: "Cardinal George of Chicago, of happy memory, was one of my great mentors, and he said: 'Look, until America goes into political decline, there won't be an American pope.' And his point was, if America is kind of running the world politically, culturally, economically, they don't want America running the world religiously. So, I think there's some truth to that, that we're such a superpower and so dominant, they don't wanna give us, also, control over the church." -Robert Barron, bishop of a diocese in Minnesota
so while it does leave a bad taste in the mouth to have an american pope at this time, he is definitely not the kind of pope trump will like, nor will the conservative base. while he probably won't catapult the church into a lot of uncharted territory, he does look as if he will at the very least continue and support the work francis laid the groundwork for
additional information:
apparently he is involved in sexual assault coverups -- not fantastic, but to be honest the entire catholic church is so incredibly guilty of this it's not surprising
robert prevost has tweeted five times since joining twitter. one of those tweets was telling jd vance he does not understand love
updating information: "He didn't cover up those cases though. It seems like he opened the investigation in the case of the two women who were abused and encouraged them to go to the police, and then the investigation was closed by someone higher up than him afterwards. With the priest who abused kids, yes he let the abuser live at the priory—under supervision, which given that abusers have to live SOMEWHERE I'm glad that it was somewhere he was being observed. (In any case when the USCCB revised the rules two years later to be stricter, the abuser was moved somewhere else; Prevost was just following regulations as they existed at the time.) As for the accusations Sodalitum has made against him, Sodalitum themselves were dissolved last year for having a shitton of sexual abuse going on in their group, and since Prevost was part of shutting them down they hate his guts; any accusations they've made against him are extremely sus at best." this information seems reliable, but needs evidence attached to it. it is public knowledge that Sodalitum were dissolved (by Pope Francis).
even more information:
robert prevost was a high-ranking augustinian -- this order is notoriously pro-immigrant, pro-environment, and anti-materialism to the point of criticising capitalism
i already mentioned that the previous pope leo was something of a social activist. specifically, pope leo xiii specifically championed worker's rights
update: since taking the papal seat leo xiv (prevost) has specifically called out ai as a threat to the world and its workers, comparing leo xiii’s campaign for laborers to his own dedication to addressing this growing concern
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merrysithmas · 2 years ago
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meanwhile jim has been studying the 10,000 page First Officer manual in his cabin for 36 hrs straight with annotated tabs and flashcards and glasses on
Pike and Una are gone for .03 seconds, and spock:
-steals the flagship
-convinces the crew to disobey direct orders
-fakes a warp core breach
-visits forbidden territory
- destroys another vessel
-gets drunk at a klingon rager
And people still have the *gall* to say Kirk was the troublemaker.
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mandoalorian · 3 months ago
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Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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If This Is War, I Surrender | New Avenger!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader series
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18+ explicit content * indicates chapters with smut word count: 77,000> summary: you wanted revenge. he became the reason you hesitated. he was the ghost from your past—the one who took everything. but getting close to him meant playing a dangerous game. and somewhere between hating him and pretending not to care, you forgot the one rule you swore you'd follow: don't fall for the enemy. SERIES IS MARKED AS ONGOING.
00 if this is war, i surrender | 01 where you end, i begin | 02 a body to break against | 03 lessons in hurt | 04 his body, her fury | 05 red, white and blue | 06 seven minutes in hell | 07 all that we carry | 08 reflections of doom | 09 multiverse on fire, and you in my arms | 10 the night we stole the stars*
Congress & Carnality | Congressman!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader series
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18+ explicit content * indicates chapters with smut word count: 100,000> summary: as the dedicated personal assistant to congressman bucky barnes, you’ve spent years keeping things strictly professional—until one heated night shatters the boundaries between you. what was meant to be a fleeting lapse spirals into an undeniable pull, tangled with secrecy, power, and unspoken emotions. but while you fight to keep things professional, bucky is falling fast, and resisting him might just be the hardest battle yet. SERIES IS MARKED AS COMPLETE.
00 meet cute | 01 after hours* | 02 mile high club* | 03 classified desire* | 04 the perfect fit* | 05 the art of pretending* | 06 dangerous liaisons* | 07 in too deep* | 08 brooklyn baby* | 09 echos of hydra | 10 the cost of freedom | 11 between love and war* | 12 trending for you* | 13 the internets boyfriend* | 14 under his claim* | 15 the making of a king* | 16 the spaces between us* | 17 parallel paths | 18 a new dawn | 19 in this moment, forever* | 20 happily ever after* | 21 epilogue*
One Shots
to be known [13+]
timeless [13+]
sweet like plums [18+]
crimson fever [18+]
the mechanic's girl [18+]
speak now [13+]
taste of you [18+]
ride to you [18+]
four hearts ablaze [18+] (bucky x steve x sam x f!reader)
so high school 18+
emerald nights 18+
i am gonna grow wings 13+
to be yours 18+
let down and hanging around 13+
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kenananamin · 2 years ago
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Tie my tie, marry me
Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him
It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.
You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.
Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.
He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.
"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.
Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.
Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.
The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.
It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.
You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.
"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"
You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.
Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.
Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."
His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.
Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.
Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.
Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.
"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"
Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.
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jupiterpilgrim · 5 months ago
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Right to Use
Wonyoung x Seulgi x Irene x Ningning x Male Reader
word count: 11K
commissioned fic
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The airport is chaos. Fans scream, flashbulbs pop, bodies press against barriers, and you’re the immovable force that keeps Wonyoung and the rest of IVE untouchable. Your black suit stretches over your frame, custom-tailored to accommodate your towering height and sheer size. Even your presence alone is enough to make people think twice about stepping out of line. But today, none of that really matters because Wonyoung, fresh off a tour, is the epicenter of it all, and you're not even sure she realizes how effortlessly she commands attention.
She’s dressed in a deceptively casual outfit that still looks like it was made to drive people insane. A cropped hoodie, pale pink, with the hem cut just above her slim waist, showing off the flawless skin of her toned stomach. High-waisted, ripped skinny jeans hug her legs, emphasizing the length and subtle curve of her thighs. On her feet, white sneakers—clean, of course. Wonyoung doesn’t do anything halfway, not even casualwear. Her long, dark hair cascades over her shoulders, catching the airport lights like silk. Sunglasses cover most of her face, but not the smirk playing on her lips, subtle enough for everyone but you to miss.
The other members follow close behind, but the crowd noise isn’t quite the same for them. Wonyoung, as usual, owns the moment. She’s radiant, untouchable. But then, of course, her attention cuts through the chaos and lands on you. She doesn’t even need to say a word. A flick of her wrist, a sly grin—you know she’s up to something.
The group splits into vehicles after the airport chaos. The plan, as always, is to keep things orderly. Most of the group piles into a sleek black van, a fortress of tinted glass and soundproof insulation. Wonyoung is supposed to ride in her private car, a glossy white Benz with plush leather interiors, a driver at the ready. You’re assigned to the main group, of course, although your priority is actually Wonyoung, you have to pretend in front of the cameras that your work is dedicated to the whole group. But as you move toward your designated car, her voice—clear, sweet, unmistakably commanding—cuts through the air.
“Oppa. Come here.”
She’s leaning against the door of her Benz, her sunglasses lowered just enough to reveal her big, doll-like eyes. They flicker with mischief.
You hesitate. Rules are rules, and being in the same vehicle with her is pushing boundaries that you’re not supposed to cross, even for someone like her. “Ms. Jang,” you start, but she cuts you off with a tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow.
“Do I have to repeat myself?”
The way she says it isn’t loud, but it’s got that edge, that bratty little tone that says she knows exactly how much control she has over you—and she enjoys it.
Reluctantly, you move toward her car, sliding into the front passenger seat as the door shuts behind you. The air inside the vehicle feels different the moment you’re in it, charged, almost electric. The driver glances at you in the rearview mirror but doesn’t say anything; he knows better.
Wonyoung sits in the backseat, legs crossed, her phone in her lap. She doesn’t say much at first, just glances at you every so often, her lips curled into the smallest of smiles. You can feel her eyes on you, even when you’re not looking. It’s unnerving, the way she toys with you without even saying a word.
The city blurs by outside, neon signs and skyscrapers flashing through the tinted windows. She stretches her legs out lazily, her sneakers brushing against the back of your seat. “You’re quiet,” she says finally, her voice soft but teasing. “Something on your mind?”
“No,” you reply quickly, but you don’t look back at her. You can feel her smirking again.
“You’re a bad liar, oppa.”
The rest of the ride is tense, her presence looming behind you like a shadow. You’ve worked for her long enough to know when she’s scheming something, and tonight she’s practically radiating trouble. By the time you arrive at her apartment building, you’re desperate to put some distance between the two of you.
The car rolls to a stop in the underground garage, and you open the door, stepping out quickly. “Goodnight, Ms. Jang,” you say, keeping your tone professional.
But before you can turn to leave, you feel her hand on your arm. Her grip is surprisingly firm for someone so delicate-looking.
“Come inside,” she says, her voice low but insistent.
You glance around, paranoid that someone might see the two of you together. “Ms. Jang, I don’t think that’s—”
“I wasn’t asking,” she interrupts, her eyes locking onto yours. There’s no room for argument in her tone.
“Someone might see us,” you hiss, still trying to keep some semblance of professionalism.
“And? Let them,” she says with a shrug. Her fingers curl around your wrist, and she tugs you toward the elevator. Her strength isn’t enough to move you, not really, but the way she looks at you—like she’s daring you to disobey—makes your resolve falter.
The elevator ride is silent, the tension between you growing thicker with every floor you ascend. She stands close to you, closer than she needs to, her arm brushing against yours. You can smell her perfume, something floral and expensive, and it only adds to the strange energy buzzing in the air.
When the elevator doors slide open, she steps out first, her sneakers making soft thuds against the polished floor. She doesn’t look back to see if you’re following—she knows you are.
Inside the penthouse, the apartment is exactly what you’d expect: sleek, modern, and outrageously expensive. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city, the lights twinkling like a sea of stars. She kicks off her sneakers near the door and pads barefoot across the marble floor, leaving you standing awkwardly near the entrance.
“You can relax, you know,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at you. “It’s just us.”
“That’s kind of the problem,” you mutter under your breath, but she hears you.
She laughs—a soft, melodic sound that somehow makes you even more uneasy. “You’re funny, oppa.”
She moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. As she drinks, her eyes stay on you, the corners of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to smile. You can tell she’s enjoying this—making you squirm, testing your limits.
“Go take a shower,” she says.
You hesitate, standing there like an idiot, unsure if you’re supposed to argue or just do as you’re told. Before you can decide, she sets the water bottle down with a soft clink and starts walking toward you. Her bare feet make no sound on the polished floor.
She stops just inches away, close enough that you can see the faint sheen of sweat on her skin, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath.
“Why are you so tense?” she asks, her voice soft but laced with that familiar teasing edge. Her hand reaches out, her fingers brushing lightly against your chest, the touch so light it’s almost maddening.
You swallow hard, your throat dry. “I’m not—”
“Liar,” she interrupts, her lips curling into that bratty smirk you know too well. Her hand lingers, her fingertips tracing a slow, deliberate line down your sternum. “Relax, oppa. It’s just us.”
Just us.
Like that makes it any less overwhelming.
The steaming water cascades over your shoulders, washing away the tension from the chaotic day. You’d followed Wonyoung’s orders begrudgingly—obedience had become second nature—but something about her tone earlier, that little twist of mischief in her voice, left you uneasy.
The faint sound of a door opening makes you freeze mid-rinse. You tilt your head, water streaming down your face, straining to hear. Voices. Feminine, light laughter filtering through the penthouse. It’s not just Wonyoung’s voice.
You turn off the shower, tension coiling in your gut. "Just us." Yeah, you should have known she was lying. Your eyes dart to the bathroom corner, where your clothes are neatly laid out—your suit jacket, shirt, tie, underwear and pants. You grab the white button-down shirt first, the fabric still slightly damp from the steam, and quickly pull it on, leaving it unbuttoned at the top. The underwear comes next, and then finally the pants. You step into them hastily, not bothering with the belt as you fasten the button and zipper.
You adjust the shirt, the damp fabric clinging to your skin, then you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. The tension in your chest doesn’t ease, but you push it down, bracing yourself for whatever—or whoever—is waiting for you outside.
The moment you round the corner into the living room, you stop dead in your tracks.
Sitting on Wonyoung’s couch, perched like queens on a throne, are three women you’d recognize anywhere. Ning Yizhuo, Irene Bae, and Kang Seulgi.
You’ve seen them before, of course—on stages, on magazine covers, in advertisements plastered across half of Seoul.
They’re not dressed like idols here. Ning wears a skin-tight black crop top that shows off her toned stomach, paired with the shortest pair of denim shorts you’ve ever seen. Irene is in a silky red slip dress that hugs her curves and ends scandalously high on her thighs, the thin straps showing off her delicate shoulders. Seulgi leans back lazily in a sleek leather skirt and a sheer white blouse, the lacy black bra underneath making no effort to hide itself.
And they’re all staring at you.
For a moment, no one speaks. Ning is the first to break the silence, her dark eyes raking over you before she whistles low. “Wow. You weren’t kidding, Wonyoung. He’s massive.”
Irene tilts her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, intrigued smile. “He looks even taller in person.”
Seulgi arches an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over you appraisingly. “And broader.”
Wonyoung, sitting cross-legged in an oversized chair to the side, looks thoroughly pleased with herself. She’s still in her airport outfit, but now her hoodie is off, leaving her in just the cropped tank top beneath. Her bare midriff gleams under the soft light, and her legs are folded neatly beneath her, the picture of bratty satisfaction.
“I told you, didn’t I?” she says, her tone dripping with pride. “Oppa’s huge. Almost 6 feet 7 inches tall. Taller than anyone else on staff. Stronger, too.”
The way she says it, casual and deliberate, makes your stomach tighten. The girls aren’t just looking at you—they’re devouring you with their eyes. Hungry doesn’t even begin to cover it.
You clear your throat, trying to ignore the heat crawling up your neck. “What’s going on here?” you ask, your voice firm but cautious.
Wonyoung smiles innocently, though there’s nothing innocent about the way her fingers drum against the arm of her chair. “I told the girls about you,” she says simply.
“Told them what?”
“That my parents hired you as my personal bodyguard and that you must fulfill every one of my wishes. In other words, I've told them that you're mine.” she replies, her tone playful but undeniably possessive. “But I don’t mind sharing. Sometimes.”
Irene’s smile widens slightly, and she leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “You’re hers, huh?” she says, her voice smooth and teasing. “That explains a lot.”
“Like what?” you snap.
“Like why she kept talking about how we had to meet you,” Ning chimes in. She crosses her legs, one foot swinging idly in the air as her eyes trace the line of your shoulders down to your chest. “I thought she was exaggerating. But now I get it.”
Seulgi smirks, leaning back into the couch with a casual grace. “So, what’s the plan, Wonyoung? I'm quite excited.”
Wonyoung’s grin turns wicked. She leans back in her chair, her head tilting to one side as she regards you with a glint in her eye. “Tonight,” she says, “we’re going to have fun. We'll use and abuse my hot beefcake."
Your instincts scream at you to leave, to shut this down before it spirals into something you can’t control. But Wonyoung is watching you, her expression daring you to refuse her. She’s always been good at getting what she wants, and tonight, it’s clear she’s not taking no for an answer.
Wonyoung doesn’t waste a second. “Alright, let’s go,” she says with a casual authority, waving the others toward the bedroom. She strides past you, but not before delivering a sharp slap to your ass.
“Keep up, oppa,” she teases, her tone dripping with mockery.
Behind her, the other girls burst into laughter, their voices mingling in a chorus of amusement and anticipation. Ning hides her smile behind her hand, Irene smirks knowingly, and Seulgi outright grins.
You trail behind them, heart hammering in your chest as the tension in the air thickens with every step. They lead you to Wonyoung’s bedroom—a sprawling, luxurious space dominated by an enormous bed with plush white linens. Soft, golden light spills from a modern chandelier above, casting everything in a warm glow.
Wonyoung sits you down on the edge of the bed, her hands firm on your shoulders as she climbs into your lap. Her weight is featherlight, but the way she looks at you—her lips curling into a bratty smile, her dark eyes glittering with mischief—feels impossibly heavy.
“Alright, girls,” she says, turning her head slightly to address the others. “You can get started.”
There’s no hesitation. Irene is the first to move, her hands reaching for the thin straps of her dress. The silky fabric slides down her shoulders and pools at her feet, revealing delicate lace lingerie that clings to her petite frame. She moves with practiced grace, her confidence radiating from every step she takes closer to you.
Seulgi is next, unbuttoning her sheer blouse with quick, eager fingers. Her bra—simple but black and striking—contrasts beautifully with her smooth skin. Her leather skirt follows, dropping to reveal toned legs and a curve to her hips that makes your mouth dry.
Ning hesitates, her fingers toying nervously with the hem of her crop top. She glances at Wonyoung, who gives her a reassuring smile, before finally pulling it off. Her shorts follow shortly after, leaving her in pastel underwear that’s almost as shy as her expression. But there’s a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, a quiet hunger that draws her closer, step by step.
You sit frozen at first, unsure of how to react, but your body betrays you. As the girls strip, you feel your cock stir to life, growing harder with each layer of clothing that hits the floor.
Wonyoung notices immediately. Her lips curve into a satisfied smirk, and she shifts slightly on your lap, her hips brushing against the bulge straining in your pants. “Enjoying the show, oppa?” she asks, her tone teasing but unmistakably smug.
You hesitate, the words catching in your throat, but finally, you nod. “…Yeah.”
She laughs softly, leaning in until her lips are inches from yours. “Good. Because tonight, we’re going to use you until we’re satisfied.”
Her words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, her mouth captures yours in a kiss. Her lips are soft but demanding, and she tastes faintly of sweet lip balm and something darker, more intoxicating.
As Wonyoung deepens the kiss, you feel hands on your shoulders, your chest, your arms. The other girls are closing in, their fingers exploring your muscles, tracing the lines of your skin like they can’t believe you’re real.
Irene’s touch is the most deliberate, her fingers trailing over your chest with an almost clinical precision, like she’s cataloging every ridge and dip. Seulgi’s hands are bolder, sliding over your biceps and squeezing as she lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit,” she murmurs. “How are you this big?”
Ning is more hesitant, her fingers brushing lightly over your forearm before retreating, only to return moments later, bolder each time. She doesn’t say anything, but the way her eyes dart over you betrays her curiosity.
Wonyoung shifts on your lap again, grinding against you just enough to make you groan softly into her mouth. She pulls back, her lips glossy and swollen, and looks down between the two of you, where your cock is straining painfully against your pants.
Her grin widens. “Looks like oppa’s ready for the real fun to start.”
She stands, slipping off your lap with a grace that leaves you breathless, and gestures for the other girls to gather around. They drop to their knees without a word, their eyes fixed on you with a mix of hunger and anticipation.
Wonyoung steps between them, her hands deftly moving to the button of your pants. She looks up at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement and something far darker. “Let’s see what you’re working with.”
Wonyoung doesn’t hesitate, her fingers deftly working at the waistband of your pants, she tugs the fabric down over your hips with an unhurried precision, the smooth motion somehow making the moment feel even more intense.
When the material pools around your ankles, you’re left standing there in nothing but your underwear. The girls’ eyes drop immediately, zeroing in on the absurd bulge pressing against the thin, strained fabric.
“Holy shit,” Seulgi breathes out first, her voice almost a whisper. Her dark eyes are wide, and she leans forward slightly, like she’s trying to get a better angle.
“That’s insane,” Ning mutters, her jaw practically hanging open. She bites her bottom lip, eyes darting from Wonyoung to your crotch as though needing confirmation that this isn’t some kind of elaborate joke.
Irene, ever composed, lifts an eyebrow and tilts her head, her gaze locked on the outline of your cock. A small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she murmurs, “Wonyoung, you didn’t tell us it was this impressive.”
Wonyoung doesn’t bother hiding her pride. Her lips curl into a smug, bratty grin as she looks up at you from her kneeling position. “Oh, I told you,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “You just didn’t believe me.”
Her fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, her touch light but deliberate. She pauses for a split second, letting the anticipation build before pulling them down slowly, like she’s unwrapping the world’s most tempting gift.
And then, it’s out.
The room goes utterly silent, save for the faint rustling of fabric as Wonyoung tosses your underwear aside along with your pants. The girls are frozen, their eyes glued to your cock as it springs free, standing tall and impossibly hard. Thick veins trace its length, accentuating the sheer size of it, and the head is already glistening faintly with precum.
“Jesus Christ,” Ning finally manages to choke out, her voice full of awe and disbelief.
Seulgi doesn’t even try to hide her reaction, letting out a low whistle as her gaze sweeps over you. “No wonder she’s been keeping you all to herself. That’s… I don’t even have words.”
“A little above 12 inches,” Wonyoung says smugly, standing and brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Told you it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen.”
“Biggest doesn’t even cover it,” Irene murmurs, her voice soft but tinged with something darker. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and there’s an undeniable hunger in her gaze. “It’s perfect.”
Ning reaches out first, her fingers hovering hesitantly over your cock before finally brushing against it. The light, experimental touch sends a shiver up your spine, and you can’t help but let out a soft grunt.
“It’s so warm,” she says, more to herself than anyone else, her hand slowly wrapping around the base.
Irene moves in next, her movements slower but no less curious. She places her hand just above Ning’s, her touch more confident as she gently squeezes the shaft. “How do you even handle this, Wonyoung?” she asks, her tone equal parts amazed and envious.
Wonyoung just laughs, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest as she watches them. “It’s not easy, but I manage. I think practice makes perfect.”
Seulgi joins in, her fingers sliding up to the head. She swirls her thumb over the slick tip, collecting a bead of precum, and smirks as she examines it. “Practice makes perfect, huh? You’re damn lucky is what you are.”
“Damn right I am,” Wonyoung replies, her voice full of pride.
The girls take their time exploring you, their hands moving up and down your cock in slow, deliberate motions as they share it between them. Ning’s grip is firm but hesitant, her strokes experimental as though she’s still trying to wrap her head around the sheer size of you. Irene’s touch is more measured, her fingers tracing the veins with almost clinical precision. Seulgi, meanwhile, is bold and playful, her grip tightening slightly as she strokes you with a confidence that leaves your knees feeling weak.
Wonyoung watches it all with a satisfied smirk, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “See what I mean?” she says, her tone smug. “I told you he’s perfect.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Ning says, her voice breathless as she gives you another experimental stroke. “This is… I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“None of us have,” Irene murmurs, her voice low as she tightens her grip slightly. Her gaze flicks up to yours, and for a moment, it feels like she’s staring straight into your soul. “Wonyoung, you weren’t lying. You’re incredibly lucky.”
“I know,” Wonyoung replies, her smirk widening.
Seulgi leans in closer, her breath warm against your skin as she runs her tongue along the length of your shaft. The sudden contact makes you groan, and she grins up at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And now you’re sharing him with us?” she asks Wonyoung, her tone teasing.
“Just for tonight,” Wonyoung says with a shrug, though the playful glint in her eye suggests she’s enjoying this far more than she’s letting on.
Seulgi chuckles, her lips brushing against your cock as she speaks. “Generous of you.”
The three of them work together in perfect, almost synchronized harmony. Ning focuses on the base, her small hands struggling to wrap around you as she strokes you slowly. Irene takes the middle, her movements deliberate and teasing, while Seulgi lavishes attention on the head, her tongue flicking over the sensitive tip before taking you into her mouth.
Wonyoung finally steps forward, brushing past the others to claim her spot. “Alright, girls, don’t forget who he belongs to,” she says.
The moment Wonyoung takes your cock in her mouth, the entire mood of the room shifts. Her lips wrap around you with a confidence that borders on arrogance, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks hard on the head, the warmth of her tongue swirling around it. She doesn’t even flinch at the sheer girth—if anything, she looks pleased, her doll-like eyes flicking up to meet yours with that same bratty.
But it’s not just her anymore. The other girls are right there, hands and mouths eager as they scramble to share whatever they can.
“Damn,” Seulgi mutters under her breath as she wraps a hand around your shaft, just beneath where Wonyoung’s lips are working. “Even with all of us, there’s still so much left.” Her tone is laced with awe, and she strokes the exposed length slowly, her fingers barely meeting as they encircle you.
“You’re telling me,” Ning chimes in, her voice muffled as she leans in to kiss and lick along the base of your cock. She presses her lips against the thick veins, her tongue darting out to trace them experimentally. “I can’t believe this thing’s real.”
Wonyoung pulls back briefly, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock as she catches her breath. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking up at you before glancing over at the others. “You should see him when he’s cumming,” she says, her voice dripping with pride. “It’s insane. He’s like a fucking fountain. You’ll see for yourselves soon enough.”
Her words make Irene pause, her elegant features flushed with heat as she runs her hand slowly along the shaft. “A lot, huh?” she murmurs, almost to herself. Her thumb brushes over the tip, smearing the slick precum that’s already leaking from you. “I can’t even imagine.”
“You won’t have to,” Wonyoung replies, her smirk widening as she moves lower, her lips brushing against your heavy, swollen balls.
The shift in her attention catches you off guard. She cradles your balls in her hands, her thumbs kneading the sensitive skin as she presses gentle kisses against them. Her lips are soft, almost reverent, but the mischievous sparkle in her eyes betrays her true intentions. “God, oppa,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “You’re so full. I bet you’ve been saving it all for me, haven’t you?”
Before you can respond, she opens her mouth wider, taking one of your balls into her mouth. The warmth and wetness make your knees buckle slightly, and you let out a deep groan as she sucks on it gently, her tongue swirling around it.
“Fuck,” Seulgi breathes out, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. “She’s not kidding. They’re huge.”
“They’re heavy, too,” Wonyoung says after releasing you with a wet pop, her voice smug as she cradles them in her hand. “You wouldn’t believe how much he can shoot.”
Ning lets out a quiet, breathless laugh, her eyes darting between your cock and Wonyoung’s hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this jealous of anyone in my life,” she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and arousal.
“Then stop talking and help,” Wonyoung says, her tone playful but commanding as she gives your balls one last lick before moving back to your shaft.
The girls obey without hesitation. Ning leans in first, her lips wrapping around the head as she tries to take you deeper. She chokes almost immediately, her throat constricting around the sheer size of you, but she doesn’t pull back. Instead, she presses forward, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she forces herself to swallow more.
“Easy,” Irene murmurs, placing a steadying hand on Ning’s shoulder. She’s kneeling beside her, her lips pressing against the exposed length just beneath where Ning’s mouth is working. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Ning gasps, pulling back just enough to catch her breath before diving back in. “I want it all.”
Her determination is clear, but even with her best efforts, she barely manages to take half of you before gagging again. The sound is lewd and wet, and drool begins to drip from the corners of her mouth, pooling at the base of your cock.
“Damn,” Seulgi says again, her voice tinged with admiration as she watches Ning struggle. “You’re really going for it, huh?”
“Of course she is,” Wonyoung says with a smirk. She reaches out, grabbing the base of your cock and guiding it away from Ning’s mouth. “But let’s not hog him, okay?”
She directs your cock toward Seulgi, who wastes no time. Her lips part, and she takes you into her mouth with surprising ease. But even she can’t handle your full length. She gets about halfway down before her throat tightens, and she has to pull back, coughing slightly.
“Shit,” she mutters, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy as she looks up at you. “That’s… That’s insane. How do you even fit this thing in anyone?”
Wonyoung laughs, her tone dripping with smugness. “It’s not easy,” she says, her hand stroking your cock lazily. “But once you get used to it… God, it’s worth it.”
The girls take turns, each of them eager to test their limits. Irene is the most graceful, her movements deliberate and controlled as she takes you into her mouth. But even she can’t swallow more than half before pulling back, her lips red and swollen as she gasps for air. Ning and Seulgi are less composed, their eyes watering and spit dripping down their chins as they choke and gag around your cock.
Through it all, Wonyoung keeps her focus on your balls. Her hands massage them gently, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles against the sensitive skin. Occasionally, she leans in to press soft kisses against them, her tongue darting out to lick along the seam.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you, oppa?” she says, her voice low and teasing as she looks up at you. “Having all of us drooling over your cock?”
You can’t help but let out a low, guttural groan in response.
Wonyoung’s lips curl into a sly grin as she looks around the room, her voice soft but commanding. “Alright, girls,” she says, running her fingers through her long, dark hair as she starts peeling off her tank top. “I think it’s about time we head to bed.”
She tosses the cropped fabric aside, revealing the full curve of her breasts beneath a lacy black bra. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as she unfastens her jeans and lets them slide down her impossibly long legs. She steps out of them with practiced grace, standing there in nothing but her matching bra and panties, the delicate material clinging to her hips like it was custom-made for her.
The other girls watch with barely contained excitement, their eyes flicking between Wonyoung and you, anticipation thick in the air. Wonyoung meets your gaze, her hands reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. The straps slide down her shoulders, and the bra falls away, revealing her flawless, perky breasts. She’s all confidence and control, completely in her element as she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushes them down, leaving her bare before you.
“So,” she says, her tone playful as she turns to the other girls. “Who wants to go first?”
“I do,” Ning blurts out immediately, her cheeks flushing as she realizes how eager she sounds.
“No way,” Seulgi interjects with a grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”
Irene doesn’t say anything, but the way she shifts in place, her thighs pressing together, makes it clear that she’s just as ready as the others.
Wonyoung laughs softly, her bratty smile lighting up her face as she turns to you. “Well, oppa,” she says, stepping closer to you and running her fingers lightly down your chest. “Looks like you’re going to have to decide.”
You glance between the three of them, your heart pounding as they all look at you expectantly. Finally, your gaze lands on Irene. She’s sitting there, quiet but clearly eager, her delicate hands resting on her knees as she looks up at you with those piercing, almond-shaped eyes.
“Irene,” you say, your voice firm but gentle.
Her lips part slightly, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks as she nods and stands. The other girls groan in disappointment, but they don’t argue, instead settling on either side of the bed to watch. Ning takes a spot on Irene’s left, while Seulgi perches on her right, both of them leaning forward eagerly.
Irene steps closer to you, her hands trembling slightly as she reaches behind her to unhook her bra. The straps fall away, revealing her small, perfectly shaped breasts, the pale skin almost glowing under the soft light of the room. Her nipples are pink and already hard, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
You guide her onto the bed, her body soft and warm beneath your hands as she lies back against the pillows. She’s still wearing her panties, a delicate lace pair that clings to her hips, but the outline of her arousal is already visible through the thin fabric.
You finally take off your shirt before kneeling between her legs, your hands sliding up her thighs as you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties. Irene lifts her hips slightly, allowing you to pull them down and toss them aside. The sight of her pussy makes your breath hitch—soft pink lips glistening with arousal, a neat triangle of pubic hair above them, perfectly groomed but natural.
“Beautiful,” you murmur.
Irene’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and she bites her bottom lip, her hands clutching the sheets beneath her. “Please,” she says softly, her voice trembling. “Just… go slow, okay?”
“I’ll be careful,” you promise, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her thigh.
Wonyoung is suddenly beside you, her hands roaming over your muscular back before sliding down to your ass. She gives it a firm squeeze, her nails digging lightly into your skin. “You better not keep me waiting too long, oppa,” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear.
You position yourself at Irene’s entrance, the head of your cock brushing against her folds and gathering the slick wetness there. Her body tenses slightly beneath you, and she lets out a soft gasp as you push forward, just the tip slipping inside her.
“Ahh…” Irene’s voice is breathless, her hands gripping the sheets tighter as her body adjusts to your size.
Her pussy is tight, impossibly so, and you take your time, pushing in slowly inch by inch. Each movement draws a new sound from her—a gasp, a moan, a sharp intake of breath—as her walls stretch to accommodate you.
“Fuck,” Seulgi murmurs from the side, her eyes glued to where your cock is disappearing into Irene. “Look at her… She’s taking it so well.”
Ning nods in agreement, her hand drifting up to cup one of Irene’s small breasts. She squeezes it gently, her thumb brushing over the hardened nipple as she leans in to kiss the soft skin there.
Irene arches her back slightly at the attention, a soft whimper escaping her lips as you sink deeper inside her. “It’s… so big,” she gasps, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief.
“I know,” Wonyoung says smugly, her hands still exploring your body. “That’s why he’s mine.”
You pause for a moment, letting Irene adjust to the feeling of being stretched so completely. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her breaths shallow as her body relaxes around you. Slowly, you begin to move again, pulling back slightly before pushing in deeper, each inch making her gasp louder.
“God,” Irene moans, her head falling back against the pillows as her legs wrap loosely around your hips. “You’re… you’re so deep…”
Ning and Seulgi continue to tease her, their hands roaming over her body as they kiss and lick at her sensitive skin. Ning focuses on her breasts, her lips wrapping around one nipple while her fingers pinch the other. Seulgi trails kisses down Irene’s neck, her teeth grazing lightly against the pale skin.
“Keep going,” Wonyoung whispers, her voice full of anticipation as she watches you. Her fingers dig into your ass again, urging you forward. “She can take it.”
You press forward until you’re half inside her, the tight heat of her pussy gripping you like a vice. Irene lets out a choked cry, her nails digging into your shoulders as her body trembles beneath you.
You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear as you whisper, “You’re so beautiful, Irene.”
Her only response is a broken moan, her eyes fluttering shut as you begin to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust drawing another gasp or moan from her lips. The girls on either side of her watch intently, their hands and mouths never leaving her body as the room fills with the sound of your movements and Irene’s pleasured cries.
And through it all, Wonyoung stays close, her touch constant as she whispers encouragement into your ear, her voice low and teasing. “That’s it, oppa,” she murmurs. “Show her what you can do.”
You thrust slowly, deliberately, only using a little more than half your cock, but even that feels like too much for Irene. Each time you push into her, her walls stretch around you like they’re made for it, molding to your size with a tightness that feels almost unbearable.
Her pussy clenches instinctively with every movement, struggling to take you as her slick heat coats your shaft, making the glide smooth yet impossibly intense. Irene's soft cries fill the room, her fingers gripping the sheets beside her as her body trembles beneath you.
“God,” she gasps, her voice breathless and high-pitched as she turns her head to the side, her dark hair spilling over the pillows. “You’re… you’re splitting me open…”
“Doesn’t she look beautiful, oppa?” Wonyoung’s voice cuts through Irene’s moans, playful and commanding. She’s watching everything, her lips curled into that signature bratty smirk. Without warning, she reaches out and slaps your ass—hard. The sting of it sends a jolt through you, and you grunt in response, your hips pushing forward just a little harder than before.
Irene lets out a sharp moan at the deeper thrust, her body jolting beneath you. “Ahh, fuck…!”
“That’s it,” Wonyoung teases, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Keep going. She can take it.”
Wonyoung moves across the bed with catlike grace, her long legs carrying her to Irene’s side. She climbs onto the bed and straddles Irene’s face, her knees pressing into the pillows as she settles herself over her.
“Open up,” Wonyoung says, her voice soft but commanding as she leans forward, her hands braced on the headboard. Her pussy hovers just above Irene’s lips, glistening and flushed with arousal. “I want to feel that tongue.”
Irene hesitates for only a moment, her eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and eagerness. Then, her lips part, and her tongue darts out tentatively, flicking over Wonyoung’s folds.
“Good girl,” Wonyoung purrs, rocking her hips slightly to press herself against Irene’s mouth. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”
Irene’s moans become muffled as she does her best to obey, her tongue moving more confidently now as she laps at Wonyoung’s pussy. Her hands move to Wonyoung’s thighs, gripping them tightly as she pulls her closer, her head tilting back slightly to get better access.
You watch the scene unfold, the sight of Wonyoung riding Irene’s face only fueling the heat coursing through your body. You can feel Irene tightening around you even more as she tries to focus on both sensations—the fullness of your cock stretching her and the taste of Wonyoung on her tongue.
“Fuck, oppa,” Wonyoung groans, her voice trembling slightly as she rolls her hips against Irene’s mouth. “She’s so eager. I think she likes it.”
“She does,” you murmur, your voice rough with arousal as you thrust into Irene slowly, each movement drawing a soft whimper from her lips that vibrates against Wonyoung’s pussy.
Ning leans over Irene’s side, her hands roaming over her chest as she kneads and squeezes her small breasts. She leans down, her lips wrapping around one of Irene’s nipples as she sucks gently, her tongue flicking over the hardened peak.
Seulgi takes the other side, her fingers tracing patterns along Irene’s stomach before dipping lower, brushing lightly over where your cock is buried inside her. She doesn’t touch you directly, but her fingers graze the spot where Irene’s pussy stretches around you, her touch teasing and exploratory.
“You’re so tight,” Seulgi murmurs, her voice full of admiration as she watches your cock slide in and out of Irene. “Look at how she’s taking you. It’s… fuck, it’s beautiful.”
Ning lifts her head from Irene’s chest, her lips glistening as she turns to Seulgi. “She’s perfect,” she agrees, her voice soft and breathless. Their eyes meet for a moment, a spark of shared excitement passing between them before Ning leans in and presses her lips to Seulgi’s.
Their kiss is slow and sensual, their tongues moving together as their hands continue to roam over Irene’s trembling body. It’s like they’re lost in their own world, their soft moans mingling with the wet sounds of your cock moving inside Irene and the muffled noises coming from Wonyoung’s pussy.
Irene’s moans grow louder, more frantic, her body arching beneath you as she struggles to keep up with everything happening to her. Her pussy clenches tightly around you, and her hips start to move instinctively, meeting your slow thrusts as if begging for more.
“She’s losing it,” Wonyoung says with a satisfied laugh, her hips grinding down harder against Irene’s mouth. “Keep going, oppa. Make her cum for me.”
You lean down, your hands gripping Irene’s hips firmly as you push into her just a little deeper, making her gasp and cry out beneath you. “You’re doing so well,” you murmur, your voice low and soothing. “Just let go, Irene. I’ll take care of you.”
Her eyes flutter open briefly, then, they squeeze shut again as another moan escapes her, muffled by Wonyoung’s pussy pressing harder against her face.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Wonyoung groans, her head falling back as she rocks her hips against Irene’s mouth. “Her tongue feels amazing.”
The room is a haze of heat and moans and wet, lewd sounds. Ning and Seulgi’s hands never stop moving, their fingers teasing and caressing Irene’s body as they kiss each other with an intensity that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
You keep your pace steady, your cock sliding in and out of Irene’s tight, dripping pussy, each thrust stretching her in ways she’s never experienced before. Her body shudders beneath you, her moans growing louder and more desperate as she gets closer and closer to the edge.
“Come on, oppa,” Wonyoung urges, her voice breathy and teasing as she looks over her shoulder at you. “Make her cum.”
You grip Irene’s hips tighter, your thrusts becoming just a little faster, a little deeper, as you push her closer to the brink. Her body trembles violently beneath you, and her muffled cries reach a fever pitch as her orgasm crashes over her.
Her pussy clenches around you like a vice, her entire body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure ripple through her. Wonyoung moans loudly as well, her movements becoming erratic as Irene’s moans vibrate against her clit, pushing her closer to her own release.
“Fuck, yes,” Wonyoung cries out, her head falling back as she grinds against Irene’s face.
Ning and Seulgi pull away from each other, their eyes fixed on Irene’s writhing form as they continue to stroke and caress her, their hands moving in perfect sync.
You slow your movements, letting Irene ride out her orgasm as her body relaxes beneath you, her chest heaving with each labored breath.
Wonyoung finally lifts herself off Irene’s face, her legs trembling slightly as she moves to sit beside you. “Not bad,” she says with a smirk, her fingers trailing over your arm.
The bed shifts as everyone moves, bodies brushing against each other in a haze of arousal and need. Seulgi wastes no time, standing and sliding her lingerie down her toned body in one smooth motion. Her black bra and matching thong hit the floor, revealing a figure carved by years of dance. Her athletic curves are taut, her thighs strong, her ass round and firm, framed perfectly as she kneels on the bed.
“It’s my turn now,” she says, her voice low and dripping with anticipation. She gets on all fours without hesitation, her back arching to present herself, ass high in the air and legs spread just enough to show her glistening pussy already wet and waiting.
“Damn,” Ning mutters, her eyes glued to Seulgi’s perfect form. She doesn't waste any time and also takes off her own lingerie, sitting directly in front of Seulgi, already spreading her legs to reveal her own slick folds. “Come here,” she adds with a smirk, her voice playful but commanding.
Seulgi doesn’t need to be told twice. She crawls forward on all fours, her face inches from Ning’s pussy. Her lips part as she leans in, her tongue darting out to tease along Ning’s folds before sucking lightly on her clit.
“Fuck,” Ning gasps, her fingers tangling in Seulgi’s hair as she pulls her closer. “That’s good. Just like that.”
Behind them, Wonyoung steps up, her eyes narrowing as she watches Seulgi’s ass sway with each movement. “Look at you,” she says. She reaches out and delivers a sharp slap to Seulgi’s ass, the sound echoing through the room. “You look like such a slut in this position.”
Seulgi moans against Ning’s pussy, the sound muffled but unmistakable. “Maybe I am,” she mumbles, her voice thick with arousal before diving back in, her tongue moving faster as Ning lets out a breathless laugh.
Wonyoung turns to you, her bratty smirk lighting up her face as she gestures toward Seulgi. “Go on, oppa,” she says. “She’s ready for you.”
But before you move, Irene is suddenly beside you, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm. Her lips are swollen, her face flushed, and there’s a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.
You lean down, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. There’s a sweetness to it, but underneath that, you can taste the familiar tang of Wonyoung’s pussy, still fresh on Irene’s tongue.
“You okay?” you murmur against her lips, your voice low and filled with concern.
She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “More than okay,” she whispers. “A cock never made me cum so fast before.”
The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten slightly, but before you can say anything else, she presses another kiss to your lips before stepping back to let you focus on Seulgi.
Your attention shifts to her, the sight of Seulgi’s ass still high in the air, her pussy glistening and inviting. You kneel behind her, one hand gripping her hip as the other guides your cock to her entrance. Her wetness coats the head as you tease her, rubbing up and down her slit, your movements deliberate and slow.
Seulgi whimpers, her hips pressing back against you as she tries to take you inside. “Stop teasing,” she gasps, her voice desperate. “Just put it in already.”
You smirk, leaning over her slightly as you position yourself. “You sure?” you ask, your tone teasing. “I don’t want to break you.”
“Do it,” she snaps, her voice breathy and demanding.
You push forward slowly, the head of your cock slipping inside her tight, wet heat. Seulgi lets out a sharp gasp, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as her body tenses.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “You’re so fucking big…”
Behind you, Wonyoung watches with gleeful satisfaction. She moves closer to Irene, their bodies aligning as she presses a soft kiss to Irene’s lips. The size difference between them is striking—Wonyoung’s long, slender frame towering over Irene’s petite figure, their contrast somehow making the moment even hotter.
Seulgi moans again as you push deeper, each inch of your cock stretching her further. Her pussy grips you tightly, the slick walls trembling around you as she struggles to take more. You pause halfway, letting her adjust as her breaths come in short, shallow gasps.
“You’re doing so well,” you murmur, your hands sliding up her sides to steady her.
She nods, her hair falling in messy waves around her face. “Keep going,” she whispers. “I can take it.”
You push forward again, the slow, deliberate movements drawing a mix of moans and gasps from Seulgi as your cock stretches her inch by inch. The pleasure is etched across her face, her lips parted and her brows furrowed as she rocks her hips back against you, desperate for more.
“Fuck,” Ning moans, watching from her position in front of Seulgi. Her legs are still spread, her pussy glistening as Seulgi continues to lick and suck at her clit. “She’s so good with her mouth. I don’t know how she’s even concentrating.”
“Because she’s a slut,” Wonyoung teases, her voice light and mocking as she pulls Irene closer, their lips meeting in another heated kiss. Her hands roam over Irene’s small frame, her fingers trailing down her sides and cupping her breasts as their tongues intertwine.
The sight only spurs you on, your hips pressing forward until you’re buried fully inside Seulgi. She cries out, her entire body trembling as she clutches the sheets beneath her. “Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “You’re… you’re fucking huge. It’s too much…”
“You’re taking it so well,” you murmur, your hands gripping her hips tightly as you begin to move, slow and steady.
Each thrust draws a moan from her lips, the mixture of pain and pleasure etched across her face as her body rocks beneath you. Ning tangles her fingers in Seulgi’s hair, pulling her closer as she grinds against her mouth, her own moans growing louder with each flick of Seulgi’s tongue.
Behind you, Wonyoung and Irene are lost in their own world, their kisses deep and passionate as Wonyoung’s hands explore every inch of Irene’s body. Wonyoung’s long fingers tracing delicate patterns over Irene’s pale skin as their breaths mingle.
The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure—moans, gasps, the wet slap of your cock sliding into Seulgi’s tight pussy. Her body trembles with every thrust, her voice breaking into desperate cries as she tries to meet your movements.
“You love this, don’t you?” you whisper, your voice low and teasing as you lean over her.
“Yes,” she gasps, her nails digging into the sheets. “Fuck, yes. Don’t stop.”
And so you don’t, your pace slow but steady, each movement deliberate as you drive her closer to the edge. Wonyoung’s laughter rings out from beside you, her voice full of satisfaction as she watches Seulgi fall apart beneath you.
“You look so good like this,” Wonyoung murmurs, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Keep going, oppa. Slap that slut. Make her scream.”
You do as she says, the sharp crack of your palm against Seulgi’s ass reverberates through the room, the flushed imprint of your hand blooming across her skin. She arches her back with a guttural moan, her hips stuttering backward to meet your next thrust—deeper, harder, the pace unrelenting now. Her pussy clenches like a vice around your cock, slick walls trembling as she struggles to adjust to the brutal rhythm.
“F-fuck!” she chokes out, her voice breaking as you bottom out inside her, the thick base of your shaft stretching her to the limit. Drool drips from her lips onto the sheets below, her face still buried between Ning’s thighs, though her tongue falters, too overwhelmed to keep pace.
Ning giggles breathlessly, her fingers tightening in Seulgi’s hair. “Getting distracted, unnie?” she teases, grinding her hips forward to force Seulgi’s mouth back against her clit. But Seulgi’s response is a muffled whimper, her body jerking as you slap her ass again, the sound sharp and possessive.
“Louder,” Wonyoung demands from across the bed, her voice honeyed and cruel. She’s sprawled beside Irene, their limbs tangled as Irene’s slender fingers work between Wonyoung’s thighs, stroking her pussy with practiced precision. Wonyoung’s head tilts back, her lips parted in a moan, but her eyes stay locked on you—dark, commanding, hungry. “Make her scream. Ruin her.”
You obey, your hips pistoning faster, each thrust punching a ragged cry from Seulgi’s throat. Her knuckles bleach white where she grips the sheets, her ass reddening under the force of your strikes.
“Y-you’re—ah!—splitting me open—” Seulgi gasps, her words dissolving into a shattered moan as you angle your cock upward, grinding against her g-spot with deliberate cruelty. Her thighs quiver, her body taut as a bowstring, but you slow just enough to deny her release, drawing a frustrated sob from her lips.
Irene watches, her breath hitching as Wonyoung arches beneath her touch. “Look at her,” Irene murmurs, her voice husky with arousal. “She’s unraveling.”
Wonyoung’s laugh is low, wicked. “And she’s still not even close.” She grabs Irene’s wrist, guiding her fingers deeper, harder. “Keep going. I want to watch her break first.”
Ning, meanwhile, rocks her hips faster against Seulgi’s mouth, her moans pitching higher. “Come on, unnie,” she taunts, her voice trembling. “You can take it, right?” But Seulgi’s only response is a broken whine, her eyes squeezed shut as you dominate her, her body reduced to a quivering, sweating mess beneath you.
The air reeks of sex and salt, the heat suffocating. You lean over Seulgi’s back, your breath hot against her ear. “You wanted this,” you growl, punctuating the words with another slap, another brutal thrust. “Begging for it like a slut.”
“Yes—” she sobs, her voice raw. “Y-yes, please—!”
Ning cums first, her back arching as she grinds down on Seulgi’s tongue, her cries sharp and sweet. Seulgi tries to focus, her mouth working desperately, but another deep thrust from you shatters her concentration, leaving her gasping, drooling, ruined.
Wonyoung’s smirk is triumphant. “Good girl,” she purrs, though it’s unclear who she’s praising—Seulgi or Ning. Her own hips roll against Irene’s hand, her breath catching. “Now… harder.”
You give Seulgi exactly that.
Seulgi’s entire body locks up like a live wire, back arched so hard it looks like it might snap. “Oppa—I’m—I’m gonna—!” Her scream cracks into a shrill, broken wail as her pussy vises around your cock, clenching in ragged pulses that feel like she’s trying to milk you dry. Tears streak her flushed cheeks, her ass still jolting red from your slaps as she grinds back against you, desperate. “Fuck—fuck—fuck—!”
You drill into her faster, harder, the wet slap of your hips against her ass drowning out her cries. Her thighs tremble, her knees buckling until she’s collapsed onto the bed, face mashed into the sheets. But you don’t stop—not until her screams dissolve into choked, hiccupping sobs, her nails clawing at the mattress. “There it is,” you grunt, feeling her walls flutter wildly, sucking you deeper like she’s trying to claim you. “C’mon, ruin the sheets, princess.”
She cums like a fucking avalanche—back bowing, toes curling, her pussy drowning you in slick as she thrashes. “Ngh—ah! AH!” Her voice shreds raw, every muscle in her body seizing before she goes limp, gasping like she’s been punched.
You rip your cock out just as the first thick ropes of cum surge from your balls, splattering hot across her lower back. It’s not an orgasm—just a relentless leak, your swollen sac emptying itself in messy, pearly streaks that drip down her ass. “Shit,” Seulgi whimpers, twitching as the warmth coats her skin. “S’so… much…”
Wonyoung’s already there, fingers dragging through the mess on Seulgi’s back. She licks her fingertips slowly, eyes locked on yours, that bratty smirk plastered on her face. “So good,” she purrs, before shoving her cum-smeared hand against Irene’s mouth. “Try it.” Irene hesitates, then laps at it obediently, her tongue swirling around Wonyoung’s fingers with a soft, approving hum. “Addicting,” she murmurs, lips glistening.
Ning slowly gets out of bed, biting her lip hard enough to bruise. You catch her eye, patting the chair beside the bed. “C’mere,” you say, voice softer now. “You’re up.”
She freezes, then nods, shaky as a fawn. She climbs into your lap, her thighs bracketing yours. “Slow,” you remind her, hands gripping her hips as she lines herself up. Her pussy glistens, already dripping, but her breath hitches when the head of your cock brushes her entrance. “I-I can’t—”
“Yes you can,” Wonyoung snaps from across the room. “Stop being a baby.”
You shoot her a glare, but Ning’s already sinking down, inch by torturous inch. Her face screws up, tears welling as she bottoms out—halfway, her tight little cunt stretching obscenely around your shaft. “Fuck,” she whimpers, nails digging into your shoulders. “It’s—too much—”
“Breathe,” you murmur, thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re doing good.”
She nods, shaky, her hips trembling as she grinds in tiny circles, trying to adjust. The stretch is written all over her face—pain, fear, but underneath it, want. Her pussy flutters, sucking you deeper like it’s begging for more.
Wonyoung rolls her eyes. “Boring. Just shove her dow—”
“Shut up,” you growl, cutting her off. Ning’s eyes widen, but there’s a flicker of gratitude there before she buries her face in your neck, her breath hot against your skin.
“I… I wanna try,” she whispers, voice trembling.
You nod, hands steady on her hips. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She lifts herself slightly—just an inch—before sinking back down with a sharp gasp. “Ah!” Her thighs shake, her cunt clenching like a fist. “I-I can’t… more—”
“You’re fine,” you reassure her, but she’s already grinding harder, chasing the friction, her moans pitching higher.
Ning’s hips stutter as she grinds down, her tiny cunt swallowing another inch of your cock with a wet squelch. Tears cling to her lashes, her breath hitching in sharp, broken gasps. “H-hurts,” she whines, her fingers digging into your shoulders like she’s clinging to a cliff edge. But her hips don’t stop—small, desperate circles that drag her clit against the base of your shaft, her pussy fluttering like a heartbeat around you.
“You’re doing it,” Seulgi rasps from the bed, sprawled on her back with her legs spread. Wonyoung already has a vibrator in her hands, buzzing against Seulgi's clit, making her jerk and curse. “Fuck—fuck—look at her go, Ning! Take that dick like a good girl—”
Irene moans softly beside her, back arched as Wonyoung takes the vibrator to her pussy in torturous circles over her slit. “So… tight,” Irene murmurs, her usually composed voice fraying. Her eyes stay locked on Ning, watching the way her petite body strains to accommodate you. “You can… ah… handle more, can’t you?”
Wonyoung smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer in her gaze as she watches Ning struggle. “Ease up, Ning,” she says, her tone less biting than usual. The vibrator dips lower, pressing against Irene’s asshole, drawing a sharp gasp. “You don’t wanna rip, do you?”
Ning shakes her head frantically, her dark hair sticking to her sweaty neck. “N-no—I’m t-trying—” She sinks down another fraction, her cunt stretching obscenely around your girth. A high-pitched whine escapes her lips, her thighs trembling violently. “O-oppa—it’s too big—”
“You’re lying,” Seulgi growls, her hips bucking against the vibrator. “Your pussy’s dripping, you little liar—fuck!” Wonyoung shoves the toy harder against her, silencing her with a choked cry.
You grip Ning’s waist, thumbs brushing the jut of her hipbones. “Breathe,” you murmur, voice rough but steady. “You’re in control. Go slow.”
She nods, sucking in a shaky breath before lifting herself—just an inch—and sinking back down. This time, she takes more, her tight walls squeezing like a fist as she chokes out a sob. “Ah! Ah—!” Her clit grinds against you, the friction wringing a sudden, startled moan from her throat. “F-fuck—!”
“There it is,” Wonyoung mutters, her smirk gentler now. She drags the vibrator back to Irene’s clit, watching Ning’s face crumple with a mix of pain and dawning pleasure. “See? Not so bad, right?”
Ning doesn’t answer, too focused on the brutal stretch, her hips rolling in jerky, unsteady motions. Drool drips from her parted lips as she bottoms out—three-quarters of your cock buried inside her—and freezes, her entire body trembling. “C-can’t,” she whimpers, voice cracking. “I’ll—break—”
“You won’t,” you assure her, hands steadying her hips. “Look at you. Taking it.”
Seulgi laughs breathlessly, her own thighs quivering as the vibrator pushes her closer to the edge again. “C’mon, Ning-ah—beg for it! Tell him you need it—”
“Shut up,” Ning snaps, her brattiness flaring through the tears. But the defiance doesn’t last—your cock shifts inside her, brushing a spot that makes her jolt. “Ah! F-fuck—there—!”
Irene’s breath hitches, her fingers tangling in the sheets. “She’s… close,” she murmurs. Wonyoung’s free hand slides up Irene’s thigh, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her yelp.
“Focus,” Wonyoung chides, but her eyes stay on Ning, watching the way her small body writhes, her cunt glistening around your shaft. “You’re doing good, Ning. Little more.”
Ning sobs, her hips finally finding a rhythm—shallow, frantic bounces that drag her clit against you with every thrust. “O-oppa—please—!” Her voice cracks, her walls fluttering wildly as pleasure starts to overtake the pain. “I—I need—!”
“Need what?” you growl, gripping her hips tighter.
“Y-you—” she chokes out, her face burning crimson. “All of you—please—!”
The room holds its breath as you guide her down—deeper—until her ass meets your thighs, your cock fully sheathed inside her. Ning’s scream is raw, shattered, her nails scratching as she claws at your shoulders. “FULL—!”
Seulgi cackles, half-hysterical, as the vibrator wrings another broken moan from her. “Holy shit—she did it—!”
Wonyoung’s smirk returns, but there’s pride there too. “Told you,” she says, her voice oddly tender. “Now… move.”
Ning does—slow, grinding rolls of her hips that make her whimper with every shift. “S’too much,” she slurs, her voice wrecked. “B-but… good… s’good…”
Irene watches, transfixed, her own hips rolling against the vibrator. “Beautiful,” she breathes, her usual poise crumbling.
Wonyoung leans in, her lips brushing Irene’s ear. “Patience,” she murmurs. “This is just… the start.”
Then, she shoves the vibrator deep into Irene’s pussy with a sharp thrust, making Irene’s back arch off the bed as she lets out a strangled cry. “Fuck—!” Irene’s hands fly to Wonyoung’s wrist, her nails digging in as the toy buzzes relentlessly inside her. Wonyoung’s other hand is already working Seulgi, two fingers plunging into her soaked pussy while her thumb grinds hard against her clit. Seulgi’s head falls back, her moans guttural and raw, her hips bucking wildly against Wonyoung’s hand.
“Fuck her harder,” Wonyoung growls, her eyes locked on you and Ning. “Don’t let her breathe.”
Ning’s still grinding on your lap, her tiny body trembling as she tries to keep up with the rhythm. Her pace is slow, torturous, her cunt clenching around your cock like she’s trying to milk you dry. Her face is flushed, tears streaking her cheeks as she whimpers, “O-oppa—it’s so big—I can’t—”
“You can,” you growl, your hands gripping her hips tighter. “Look at you. Taking it like a fucking slut.”
Ning’s eyes widen, her lips parting in a shocked gasp, but the words seem to ignite something in her. Her hips roll faster, her cunt squeezing around you as she moans, “Y-you feel so good—ah!—I-I can’t—stop—”
But it’s still not enough. The slow, teasing pace is driving you insane, and you can’t take it anymore. Without warning, you stand up, lifting Ning off the chair like she weighs nothing. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, her arms clinging to your shoulders as she lets out a startled scream. “O-oppa—!”
The girls freeze for a split second, their eyes widening as they take in the sight. You’re towering over them, your massive frame dwarfing Ning’s petite body. The difference is brutal—you’re almost two meters tall, and Ning barely reaches your chest. Her tiny legs dangle helplessly, her cunt stretched obscenely around your cock as you hold her in the air.
“Holy shit,” Seulgi breathes, her voice trembling with awe. “Look at her—fuck—”
Wonyoung’s smirk is back, her fingers still working Seulgi’s pussy as she watches you with dark, hungry eyes. “Finally,” she purrs, her voice dripping with approval. “Ruin her.”
Your hips snap forward, driving your cock deeper into Ning’s tight, trembling cunt. She lets out a shattered scream, her nails digging into your shoulders as her body jerks violently. “AH! O-OPPA—!”
“That’s it,” Wonyoung hisses, her voice rising with excitement. “Fuck her—make her scream!”
Irene’s moans join the chorus, her hips grinding against the vibrator as she watches you dominate Ning. “God—she’s so small—” she gasps, her voice breaking. “Ruin her—please—”
Seulgi’s not far behind, her thighs quivering as Wonyoung’s fingers work her over. “Fuck—look at her—fuck her harder—!”
Ning’s screams are your fuel, her tiny body bouncing helplessly in your grip as you pound into her. Her cunt is dripping, her walls fluttering wildly as she clings to you, her voice cracking with every thrust. “AH! AH! AH!”
“You like that?” you growl, your voice rough and demanding. “Being used like a fucking toy?”
Ning nods frantically, her face buried in your neck as she sobs, “Y-yes—yes—please—more—!”
Her legs shake violently, her cunt clenching like a vice as she gets closer and closer to the edge. “I’m—I’m gonna cum—!” she screams, her voice raw and broken.
“Do it,” Wonyoung commands, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Cum on his cock—show us—”
Ning's orgasm makes her scream echo throughout the entire room. Her back arches, her entire body locking up as she squirts, her cunt gushing around your cock. The sound is obscene—wet, messy, relentless—as her juices drip down your thighs. “AHHH!” she wails, her voice shattering as her walls milk you, her tiny body convulsing in your grip.
The girls watch in stunned silence, their own moans forgotten as they take in the sight. Even Wonyoung looks momentarily speechless, her fingers stilling inside Seulgi as she stares at Ning’s trembling form.
You can’t hold back anymore. The pressure in your balls is too much, and with a low growl, you release another leak. Thick ropes of cum surge into Ning’s tight, fluttering cunt, filling her to the brim as she whimpers, “O-oppa—s’so hot—ah!”
Ning’s legs give out, her body going limp as you lower her to the ground. She collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving as she stares up at you with dazed, glassy eyes. “T-thank you,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
Wonyoung’s smirk returns, her fingers slowly leaving Seulgi's pussy, her other hand turning off the vibrator “Good girl,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now it's finally my turn.”
Ning’s trembling legs shift slightly as she scoots higher on the bed, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her thighs part instinctively, her glistening pussy on full display, your cum still leaking out of her. Seulgi doesn’t waste a second. She crawls over, her eyes locked on Ning’s messy cunt, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
“Let me clean you up, Ning,” Seulgi purrs, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. She doesn’t wait for permission, her tongue darting out to lick a long, slow stripe up Ning’s slit. Ning gasps, her back arching off the bed as Seulgi’s tongue swirls around her sensitive clit, lapping up your cum with a lewd suck.
“Ah! S-Seulgi—!” Ning whimpers, her hands flying to Seulgi’s hair, tangling in the dark strands as Seulgi buries her face deeper. “F-fuck—that’s—too much—”
Seulgi pulls back just enough to smirk up at her, her lips glistening. “Too much?” she teases, her breath hot against Ning’s pussy. “You were just screaming for more a second ago.” She dives back in, her tongue plunging into Ning’s tight hole, licking up every drop of cum as Ning writhes beneath her.
The sight is obscene—Ning’s tiny body trembling, her legs spread wide as Seulgi devours her, your cum smeared across her lips. Your cock twitches, still hard and aching, as you watch Seulgi work her over.
Wonyoung clears her throat, her bratty smirk firmly in place as she sprawls out on the bed, her long legs spread invitingly. “Finally,” she drawls, her voice dripping with impatience. “My turn. And don’t hold back, oppa. You know I can take it.”
Irene and Seulgi exchange a glance before moving to either side of Wonyoung, their hands already roaming over her flawless body. Irene leans down, capturing Wonyoung’s lips in a deep, hungry kiss, while Seulgi’s mouth latches onto one of Wonyoung’s perky breasts, her tongue swirling around the hardened nipple.
“Fuck,” Wonyoung moans, her head falling back against the pillows as Irene’s hand slips between her thighs, teasing her already wet pussy. “Finally some attention.”
You position yourself between Wonyoung’s legs, your cock throbbing as you line up with her entrance. She’s dripping, her pussy glistening with arousal as she looks up at you with those dark, commanding eyes. “Go on,” she taunts, her voice low and teasing. “Ruin me. I'm not fragile like Ning, the crybaby.”
You don’t need to be told twice. Your hips snap forward, driving your cock into her in one brutal thrust. Wonyoung’s back arches, a sharp gasp tearing from her lips as she takes every inch of you. “Fuck—yes—” she moans, her nails digging into the sheets.
You set a rough, relentless pace, your hips slamming into hers with enough force to make the bed shake. Wonyoung’s moans are loud, unrestrained, her bratty facade crumbling as you fuck her senseless. “Harder,” she demands, her voice trembling. “Fucking—harder—”
Irene’s lips trail down Wonyoung’s neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as her fingers pinch and twist Wonyoung’s other nipple. Seulgi's hands slide down her tummy, placing soft kisses.
“God—you’re so tight,” you growl, your hands gripping Wonyoung’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fucking—take it—”
Wonyoung’s head thrashes against the pillows, her moans climbing higher as you pound into her. “Yes—yes—fuck—!”
Ning, still trembling from her own orgasm, watches Wonyoung with wide, mischievous eyes. Her hand reaches for the forgotten vibrator, her fingers curling around it as she flicks it on with a soft buzz. The sound is low but unmistakable, and Wonyoung’s head snaps toward her, her dark eyes narrowing.
“Ning,” Wonyoung growls, her voice sharp and warning. “Don’t you dare—”
But Ning’s already crawling closer, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she presses the vibrator against Wonyoung’s clit. The sudden buzz makes Wonyoung jolt violently, her back arching off the bed as a sharp, guttural scream tears from her throat.
“FUCK!” Wonyoung screams, her body thrashing as the vibrator sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Ning—! STOP!”
Irene and Seulgi are quick to react, their hands pinning Wonyoung’s wrists to the bed as she squirms beneath them. Irene’s grip is firm, her nails digging into Wonyoung’s delicate skin as she leans down, her lips brushing against Wonyoung’s ear.
“Hold still,” Irene murmurs, her voice low and commanding. “Take it.”
Seulgi grins, her teeth grazing Wonyoung’s nipple as she adds, “You wanted it rough. Don’t complain now.”
Wonyoung’s screams pitch higher, raw and ragged, as you jackhammer into her, your cock splitting her oversensitive pussy wide. Her thighs quiver, her hips jerking wildly, but Irene and Seulgi’s grip is ironclad—nails digging into her wrists. “S-stop—fuck—I said STOP—!” she shrieks, her bratty bravado crumbling into desperate, tear-soaked pleas.
Ning doesn’t flinch. Her fingers press the buzzing vibrator harder against Wonyoung’s swollen clit, her other hand slapping Wonyoung’s inner thigh. “Make me,” she sneers. “You love this, Wonyoung. Look at your fucking pussy—dripping like a slut.”
Wonyoung’s head thrashes, her back arching off the bed as you slam into her cervix, the slap of your hips against her ass echoing through the room. “N-no—ah! AH!” Her protests dissolve into garbled moans, her cunt clenching around you in violent spasms. “T-too much—plea—SE—”
“Shut up,” you growl. “You begged for this. Take it.”
Irene’s laugh is low, dangerous, as she twists Wonyoung’s nipple sharply. “Crying already? You’re pathetic.”
Seulgi joins in, her teeth sinking into Wonyoung’s shoulder as she purrs, “Scream louder. Let the whole building hear how much of a whore you are.”
Wonyoung’s orgasm detonates without warning. Her body snaps taut, a guttural wail tearing from her throat as her pussy gushes, squirting across the sheets in a filthy, soaking wave. “F-FUCK—I’M CUMMING—STOP—!”
Ning slaps her clit with the vibrator, the buzz cranked to max. “Cum again,” she demands, her voice icy. “Now.”
Wonyoung sobs, her hips bucking uncontrollably as a second orgasm rips through her, her cunt milking your cock in frantic pulses. “AHHH! P-PLEASE—MERCY—!”
“Mercy?” you mock, slamming into her harder, your balls slapping her ass. “You don’t deserve mercy.” You yank your cock out suddenly, leaving her gaping, and drive it back in—upward—the head grinding brutally against her clit.
Wonyoung screeches, her body bowing off the bed, her nails clawing at Irene and Seulgi’s arms. “NO—NO—AH! AH!”
Ning leans in, her lips curling into a vicious smile. “Slut,” she whispers, before spitting in Wonyoung’s face.
The insult tips her over. Wonyoung’s third orgasm is violent—her pussy squirting again, her screams dissolving into choked, hiccupping wails as her body convulses, utterly wrecked. You fuck her through it, your thrusts relentless, until her eyes roll back and she goes limp, her chest heaving, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.
Irene releases Wonyoung’s wrist to trail a finger through the mess on the sheets. “Look at this,” she murmurs, licking her finger clean with a smirk. “You’re ruined, Wonyoung.”
Seulgi laughs, finally releasing her grip. “Look at her—can’t even speak.”
You pull out with a wet pop, your cock glistening with her cum. Wonyoung’s pussy twitches, still pulsing weakly, as she stares blankly at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths.
Ning drops the vibrator onto Wonyoung’s stomach, her voice sweetly mocking. “Aw, did we break you?”
Wonyoung’s lips part, but all that comes out is a broken whimper. She lies sprawled on the bed, her chest heaving, her body still trembling from the relentless pounding you gave her. Her legs are splayed wide, her pussy glistening and swollen, a mess of cum and slick dripping down her thighs. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips parted as she tries to catch her breath. You stand over her, your cock still rock-hard, throbbing with need. Your hand strokes it slowly, the pre-cum leaking from the tip smearing over your fingers as you let out a low groan.
“Close,” you mutter, your voice rough and strained. “Fuck—I’m so close.”
The words are like a trigger. Irene, Seulgi, and Ning immediately drop to their knees around you, their eyes locked on your cock with a mix of hunger and desperation. Their lips are swollen, their skin flushed and glistening with sweat, their hair messy and sticking to their faces. They look ruined—completely wrecked by your cock—And it's fucking beautiful.
Ning glances over at Wonyoung, who’s still lying limp on the bed, and smirks. “Wonyoungie,” she calls, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t you joining us? Or are you too tired?”
Wonyoung groans, her head lolling to the side as she glares at Ning through half-lidded eyes. “Shut up,” she mutters, her voice hoarse. “I’m coming. Just… give me a second.”
The girls don’t wait for her. Seulgi is the first to lean in, her lips wrapping around the head of your cock as she sucks hard, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. “Fuck,” you groan, your hand tangling in her hair as she takes you deeper, her throat constricting around your girth.
Irene’s hands join in, her fingers stroking the base of your shaft as she leans in to kiss and lick along the length. “So thick,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with awe.
Ning doesn’t say anything, her small hands gripping your thighs as she presses her lips to the side of your cock, kissing and sucking at the thick veins that run along the shaft. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive skin as she moans softly, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
The sight of them—idol royalty, kneeling at your feet, their faces flushed and their bodies trembling—is almost too much to handle. Your cock twitches in Seulgi’s mouth, your balls tightening as you fight to hold back.
Wonyoung finally drags herself off the bed, her legs shaky as she stumbles over to join the others. She drops to her knees beside Ning, her hands reaching out to stroke your thighs. “Move over,” she mutters, her voice still weak but laced with that familiar bratty edge.
Ning smirks but scoots aside, making room for Wonyoung. Without hesitation, Wonyoung leans in, her lips wrapping around the base of your cock as she sucks hard, her tongue lapping at the sensitive skin. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, that familiar glint of mischief shining through despite her exhaustion.
The girls work together in perfect harmony, their mouths and hands exploring every inch of your cock. Seulgi focuses on the head, her lips stretching around the thick tip as she sucks and swirls her tongue. Irene takes the middle, her fingers stroking and teasing as she kisses along the shaft. Ning and Wonyoung work the base, their tongues flicking and licking at the sensitive veins, their hands gripping your thighs for support.
“Fuck,” you groan, your hand tightening in Seulgi’s hair as your hips jerk forward, thrusting deeper into her mouth. “So good—all of you—”
Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, her lips glistening with spit. “We know,” she purrs. “Now cum for us, oppa. We’ve earned it.”
The girls are relentless, their mouths and hands working in perfect sync as they worship your cock. Seulgi’s lips stretch around the head, her throat constricting as she tries to take you deeper, but she can’t swallow more than halfway. Her eyes water, drool dripping down her chin as she gags and pulls back, gasping for air.
“Fuck—you’re so big—” she chokes out, her voice trembling as she strokes the base of your shaft with both hands.
Irene takes over, her lips wrapping around the middle as she sucks hard, her tongue swirling along the thick veins. “So much,” she murmurs, her voice muffled as she tries to take more, her elegant facade crumbling under the sheer size of you.
Ning and Wonyoung work the base, their tongues flicking and licking at your heavy balls, their hands gripping your thighs for support. Wonyoung’s lips press against your sac, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin as she looks up at you with those dark, bratty eyes.
“Cum for us,” she purrs, her voice low and commanding. “Empty those balls—all over us.”
The girls’ desperation is palpable, their voices rising in a chorus of pleas as they beg for your cum.
“Please—baby—I need it—” Seulgi whimpers, her hands stroking faster.
“Cover me,” Irene moans, her lips still wrapped around your cock.
“I want it—in my mouth—” Ning gasps, her tongue flicking against your balls.
You can’t hold back any longer. Your cock throbs, your balls tightening as the pressure builds to a breaking point. “Fuck—I’m cumming—” you growl, your voice rough and strained.
The girls don’t stop, their mouths and hands working even harder as they push you over the edge. You pull your cock out of Irene’s mouth just in time, your hand stroking the shaft as the first thick rope of cum explodes from the tip.
The first shot hits Irene square in the face, painting her delicate features with a thick, white streak. Her eyes widen in shock, but she doesn’t pull away, her tongue darting out to catch the next spurt as it lands on her lips.
Seulgi is next, her mouth open as a hot, sticky load splashes across her cheeks and chin. She moans, her fingers digging into your thighs as she leans in, trying to catch more.
Ning’s turn. The cum lands on her nose and forehead, dripping down onto her lips. She giggles, her tongue flicking out to taste it as she looks up at you with wide, playful eyes.
Finally, Wonyoung. The last shot hits her right between the eyes, the thick, white fluid dripping down her nose and onto her lips. She smirks, her tongue darting out to lick it off as she looks up at you with that familiar, bratty glint.
“I told you, girls,” she purrs. “He cums like a fucking fountain.”
But it’s not over. Your cock twitches again, another thick rope of cum shooting out and splattering across the girls’ faces. Ning opens her mouth this time, catching the load on her tongue as the others laugh and smear the cum across their skin.
“Fuck—so much—” Seulgi gasps, her fingers trailing through the mess on her face.
Irene giggles, her usual elegance replaced by a playful, almost giddy energy as she wipes the cum from her cheeks and licks it off her fingers. “I love your taste,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with arousal.
Wonyoung leans in, her lips brushing against your cock as she licks up the last few drops. “Good boy,” she purrs, her voice low and teasing.
The room is a mess of sweat, cum, and laughter as the girls start playing with the thick, sticky load you’ve painted across their faces.
Wonyoung is the first to move, her fingers trailing through the mess on her cheeks before bringing them to her lips. She sucks them clean with a slow, deliberate motion, her dark eyes locked on yours as she smirks. “Mmm,” she hums, her voice low and sultry. “Tastes even better than I remember.”
Irene giggles as she wipes the cum from her nose and chin. She licks her fingers clean, her tongue swirling around each digit with a soft, approving hum. “I've never seen anyone cum so much. It's incredible,” she murmurs.
Seulgi isn’t as delicate. She scoops a glob of cum off her cheek with two fingers and shoves it into her mouth, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she swallows. “Fuck,” she groans, her voice rough and raw. “It's really a lot—how do you even produce this much?”
Ning is the most playful, her small hands smearing the cum across her face like war paint. She sticks her tongue out, showing off the thick, white fluid pooled there before swallowing it with a satisfied grin. “Yum,” she teases, her voice light and playful. “Oppa’s cum is the best.”
The girls laugh, their voices mingling in a chorus of amusement and arousal as they continue to play with the mess on their faces. Wonyoung leans over to Irene, her cum-stained lips pressing against Irene’s in a slow, messy kiss. Their tongues swirl together, the taste of your cum mingling with their own arousal as they moan softly into each other’s mouths.
Seulgi and Ning aren’t far behind. Seulgi grabs Ning’s face, her fingers digging into her cheeks as she pulls her into a deep, hungry kiss. Ning giggles against her lips, her hands tangling in Seulgi’s hair as they share the taste of your cum, their moans muffled but unmistakable.
The sight is surreal—four of the most beautiful women in the world, their faces streaked with your cum, kissing and licking it off each other with a hunger that’s almost feral. Your cock twitches weakly, still sensitive from the intense orgasm, as you watch them with a mix of awe and satisfaction.
Wonyoung finally pulls away from Irene, her lips glistening as she turns to you. She crawls over, her long legs carrying her to your side as she leans in, her lips brushing against your softened cock. “Thank you, oppa,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “That was… the best night ever.”
She presses one last kiss to the tip of your cock, her tongue flicking out to taste the last few drops of cum before she leans back, her bratty smirk firmly in place. “Now,” she says, her voice dripping with mischief, “who’s up for round two?”
“I’m in,” Seulgi says.
“Me to,” Irene adds.
Ning giggles. “Obviously,” she teases, her voice light and playful. “I’m not done yet.”
Wonyoung’s smirk widens, her dark eyes locking on yours. “Looks like it’s unanimous,” she purrs. “Round two it is.”
2K notes · View notes
littlebluebird2000 · 2 months ago
Text
Twirling Hearts- part 1
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pairing: yeon si-eun x reader (female reader)
rating: 18+
genre: romance, smut
warnings: overprotective sieun, school bullying, discussion about food and weight, violence, harassment, eventual smut, mature language, sexual harassment, slow-burn, jealousy, baku always being at the scene of the crime…
summary: Who would've thought that a ballerina and the school's most feared nerd would complete each other so well? Being the new student was never easy—especially not when you were the only girl transferring into an all-boys school. To make matters worse, Eunjang High has a reputation for having its fair share of troublemakers. Some of the rumors were enough to make anyone second-guess stepping through those front gates…
author's note: the lack of fanfic dedicated to sieun is, in my opinion, completely unacceptable. I had to come back from hiatus for him. I’m warning y’all, it’s a long one. there’s a part 2 coming soon, maybe a part 3 if this goes well. please note that English isn’t my first language, so there might be some mistakes here and there. i hope you will enjoy, and if you do, please leave a comment <3
word count: 8k+ ( I know… I went overboard )
part : 1 , 2, 3., 4., 5.
Being the new student was never easy—especially not when you were the only girl transferring into an all-boys school. To make matters worse, Eunjang High had a reputation for having its fair share of troublemakers. Some of the rumors were enough to make anyone second-guess stepping through those front gates.
Your family had helped set up an apartment not too far from the academy and Eunjang High. A single bus route connected both places, making the commute manageable with your tight schedule. Originally from Busan, you welcomed the distance that Seoul offered. Being hours away from your parents gave you a kind of peace you hadn’t realized you needed until it now.
Back home, your father placed suffocating academic pressure on your shoulders, while your mother lived vicariously through your ballet career, projecting her own lost dream of becoming a prima ballerina onto you. Here, in this new city, you could finally breathe a little easier.
To balance both ballet and school, you needed a flexible academic setup. Thankfully, Eunjang High offered a unique mix of online and on-campus classes. A lot of the students there were repeating years or following unconventional tracks, which made the school more lenient with scheduling. It was one of the only reasons why they bent the rules to admit you, despite the school typically being reserved for boys. They needed to fill seats. You needed a compromise.
Although your father wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of you attending a school like Eunjang, there weren’t many better options. This compromise—the odd, messy arrangement—was the only way both your parents could get a piece of what they wanted. As long as you kept your grades up at this so-called “lousy” school and continued to perform well in the online program, your father was willing to compromise to please your mother.
Each weekday followed a strict routine. Mornings were reserved for intensive ballet practice at the academy. From there, you’d head straight to Eunjang High for your campus courses: English, mathematics, social studies, and science. After that, it was back to the academy for evening classes. Your online studies could be completed anytime throughout the week, as long as you met the deadlines. The weekends were yours, thankfully.
Today was the day everything would change.
To say you were nervous would’ve been an understatement. Your stomach was in knots, your thoughts racing faster than your footsteps on the way to the academy. There was a strange heaviness in the air, like something big was about to unfold.
Later, you’d look back and realize—you had every reason to feel that way.
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The morning had started better than expected.
You were pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere at the ballet academy. Though the classes were clearly going to be grueling and demanding, there was something deeply motivating about the environment. It felt purposeful. Focused. The kind of place where real growth could happen.
Your instructor, Mrs. Kim, was a stern older woman with a sharp gaze and impeccable posture—clearly someone who had spent her life perfecting her craft. She wasn’t warm, exactly, and you didn’t expect her to be. But her corrections were precise and never cruel. She was strict, yes, but not out of ego or power—she pushed for improvement… And that made all the difference.
The other dancers were older than you by a few years, likely in their early twenties, and carried themselves with the kind of quiet confidence that comes with experience. They greeted you politely, if a little stiffly, introducing themselves one by one before falling back into an easy rhythm of conversation that didn’t quite include you.
You didn’t take it personally. They weren’t being unkind or intentionally cold. It was just the natural awkwardness that came with a new arrival—especially one as young as you, dropped suddenly into their already well-formed circle. They didn’t know you yet. That would come with time.
At least they were civil. That alone was a relief.
Back at your previous academy, competition had turned the other girls into enemies. Whispers behind backs, sabotaged shoes, icy glares in the mirrors—it was a toxic place that made you question your love for dance. But here? The air felt different. More mature. Healthier. Safer.
You could handle being the outsider for a little while longer, as long as respect remained part of the equation.
And so, when class ended and you washed up quickly, put on your uniform, and gathered your things to head to your first afternoon at Eunjang High, your nerves buzzed with a strange blend of anxiety and cautious hope.
You had survived the first half of your day.
The next part, however—was still entirely unknown
As soon as your feet hit the pavement, a chill ran up your bare legs. The bus doors closed behind you, and you stood there for a second, staring up at the towering gray building of Eunjang High School. It honestly looked more like a prison than a school, with its cracked concrete walls and rusted metal gates. You hugged your blazer tighter around yourself.
You could still hear your father’s voice from last night’s call echoing in your head: “Stay out of trouble. Don’t talk to anyone unless absolutely necessary. These boys aren’t your friends.”
You wanted to believe he was just being dramatic… but as you stepped through the gates and onto campus, you weren’t so sure.
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Chaos greeted you like an old friend
Boys were everywhere—some shouting, others chasing each other through the halls like it was recess, not school hours. Someone threw a water bottle across the courtyard. Another boy ducked just in time to avoid a roll of toilet paper flying through the air. You grimaced at the sight.
You felt your breath hitch. This was going to be hell.
A quiet voice at your side made you turn. “This way.” The speaker was a boy, small with thick glasses framing his face. He didn’t meet your eyes as he spoke, just kept walking, hands clutched to his backpack straps.
“I’m Seo Juntae,” he added shyly. “We’re in the same class—1-5.” You nodded, falling in step beside him, grateful for the guide. At least one person here seemed sane.
“The teacher should be waiting already,” Juntae mumbled as you reached the classroom door. “You’ll be fine, probably.” He gave a nervous little smile and pushed the door open.
Probably?
Inside, it wasn’t much better.
The classroom buzzed with noise. Some students were arguing over who’d stolen whose eraser, while others leaned out of the windows shouting at someone below. A few boys sat on desks instead of chairs, and more than weren’t wearing their uniform properly.
You felt every gaze turn your way as you stepped in.
A few low whistles rang out from the back. Someone muttered something you didn’t catch, followed by a burst of laughter. You fought the urge to turn and leave.
“Quiet down,” the teacher said firmly, standing up from his desk. He was tall and slightly hunched. “This is our new student. I expect you all to treat her with respect.”
He smiled at me. “Please introduce yourself to your classmates.” Swallowing your nerves, you turned fully, facing the other students.
“Hello, my name is (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you all. Please take good care of me.” You said, bowing politely.
The room fell quiet for a moment, then:
“I’ll take real good care of you, if you let me.” Someone said from the back. A few more snickers followed. You flushed but stayed silent, keeping your face blank. You couldn’t say that you didn’t expect that.
“Enough.” The teacher snapped, glaring in the offender’s direction. “Y/N, you can sit next to Yeon Sieun. He’s by the window. Put your bag in the lockers in the back.”
You made your way down the aisle, trying not to meet any of the stares that followed you. The boy you were assigned to sit next to didn’t acknowledge your presence, not even a glance as you slid into the chair beside him.
As you settled into your seat, you quickly adjusted your skirt, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You focused your gaze on the teacher.
You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t about making friends. Your ballet and your studies were your priorities. Everything else was secondary.
Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to focus on the lesson. The teacher, Mr. Yoon, was talking about social studies—something about historical figures and their influence on modern society. The words blurred together as you tried to push your thoughts aside, diving into your notes with the intensity you’d developed over the years.
It wasn’t easy. The whispers around you, the occasional chuckle, the glances…there was no escaping it. You heard the boys behind you muttering and laughing quietly, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to.
The boy next to you, however, remained silent. Yeon Sieun hadn’t spoken a word since you sat down. He acted as if he didn’t care about you at all, like you hadn’t entered the room. You were weirdly grateful for that. The less attention you could get here, the better.
Social studies were now done. Mathematics were next. You sat quietly, shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the chalkboard as you copied the teacher’s writing. You were trying your best to blend in. Head down, mouth shut. Only three classes to go. Just three. You could survive this.
You glanced at the board again, where a string of complicated equations still glared down at you. Math had never been your strong suit. You were going to have to study harder than ever to keep up.
A tap on your shoulder made your heart skip.
You turned slowly, wary.
“Hey,” said a boy with a crooked smile, his tie hanging loose and shirt stained at the collar. “Got another pencil? Mine broke.”
Your stomach twisted. Something about his tone made your skin crawl. Still, you managed to nodded and offered him what you hoped was a polite smile. You pulled a pencil from your case, and handed it to him. “Keep it.”
You turned back around before he could say anything, silently praying that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.
Another tap. You inhaled sharply through your nose, willing yourself not to react. You turned.
“Got an eraser?”
Without mentioning that there was one attached to the end of the pencil, you just grabbed your spare eraser and dropped it on his desk without looking at him.
Surely, that would be enough.
But you felt it again. A third tap.
Annoyed now, you spun halfway toward him. “What?”
He grinned, leaning forward. “Can I get your number too?”
A burst of laughter came from behind him. His friends fist-bumped like they’d just witnessed something brilliant.
You blinked, the question hitting like a slap. Your lips parted, but no words came. You just turned back toward the front of the classroom, disgust curling in your chest.
Pig.
The snickering didn’t stop. The teacher, annoyed at the growing noise, shushed them harshly.
You stared at the board, eyes blurry with shame and frustration. You should’ve known. Of course he didn’t want a pencil… You clenched your jaw and forced yourself to keep writing.
When the bell rang for lunch, the teacher dismissed the class and left before most students were out of their seats. You packed slowly, hoping the room would clear before you had to walk through it. As you reached for your last book, a shadow fell over your desk.
You could read his name tag now.
Hyoman.
He loomed close, too close. “So,” he said, voice low and smug. “You’re gonna give me your number or what?”
You looked up. His posture reeked of arrogance, and the heavy scent of sweat made your nose twitch. You pushed your chair back instinctively, putting space between you. “I don’t give out my number,” You said firmly but politely, smoothing your skirt and standing.
A chorus of oohs erupted from his friends and Hyoman’s grin vanished.
He stepped closer, and something in his eyes changed. Gone was the teasing gleam. In its place was something colder. More entitled.
“You’re gonna give it to me though,” He said, voice sharp. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”
Your pulse spiked. Hands clammy, you forced a calm expression. “I really can’t. I’m sorry.” You lowered your eyes, trying not to provoke him further. “Please, excuse me.”
You tried to step around him, but he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you back, hard.
You gasped, pain flaring at your scalp. Your back hit his chest and you froze, heart slamming against your ribs.
“Listen here, bitch,” He snarled, his mouth near your ear, breath hot and sour. “You don’t get to say no to me. I was nice. Now you give me your number, or I’ll take it out on you in ways you won’t like.”
Still frozen in shock, your breath was caught somewhere in your throat. You were just about to cave—just about to say something to make it stop—when a chair scraped loudly against the floor. The sharp squeal cut through the chaos like a blade.
“Don’t cross the line.”
The voice was quiet. Almost too quiet, but something about it made every sound in the room stop.
No yelling. No rage.
Just a thread of quiet authority that made the air go still.
You didn’t dare turn to look, still locked in Hyoman’s grip. But the tension around you shifted.
“Fuck off, Yeon Sieun,” Hyoman spat. But his voice faltered at the end, cracking under pressure. Still, he yanked harder on your hair, and you let out a strangled sound as fresh pain bloomed across your scalp. “It’s none of your business. Stay out of it.”
A pause.
Then, calmly, Sieun said, “This is your only warning.”
Click.
The sound was soft, like a pen snapping into place.
Strangely, the sound alone was enough to make Hyoman freeze behind you. His entire body stiffened like a wire pulled too tight.
No one laughed. No one moved.
Click.
Again. That sharp, quiet snap.
Someone whispered, “Shit” under their breath.
And suddenly, Hyoman let go of your hair. Just like that. He shoved you away roughly as if to save face, but there was fear flickering behind his eyes now. You stumbled forward, catching yourself on the edge of a desk, one hand going to your aching scalp. “I was just playing,” He muttered, voice small and strained. His hands lifted in mock surrender, but it was all performance now.
He walked away quickly, dragging his pride behind him as his friends trailed after him.
Blinking away tears, you now took the chance to look at the student who had came to your help.
Yeon Sieun stood there like he hadn’t moved at all. His uniform hung a bit too loose on his frame. His dark hair fell into his eyes, shadowing the expressionless mask he wore.
But it was his eyes that caught your attention.
Sad. Hollow. Tired.
Not the kind of tired from a long day, but the kind carved from sleepless nights and things too heavy for someone his age to carry. He looked distant, detached, like he wasn’t really here at all. The pen in his hand was held like a weapon.
With a slow, almost mechanical motion, he slid the pen into the inside pocket of his blazer. Without sparring you a glance, he turned, walking toward the door as if nothing had happened.
“Thank you.” You said before he left completely, your voice unsteady, barely more than a whisper. “Thank you, Yeon Sieun.”
He paused. Without a word, he turned slightly, just enough to acknowledge you with a sharp nod, then left.
And that’s how everything began.
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Most of your days were now spent going to ballet classes and hanging out with Sieun and his friends whenever you weren’t busy with your online classes. You would eat regularly with him, Juntae, Bakua, and Gotak. Even though Sieun didn’t talk much, you appreciated his calm presence, especially since the others could be a bit … much. Not Juntae though. He was a sweetheart.
It only took a few days for you to feel like you fit in with the group. While your father might disapprove of your new found friends, these guys had shown time and time again that they had your back in a way that none of your previous 'friends' had.
Five months had passed since your arrival at Eunjang High School, and things were going better now. Your ballet classes were going smoothly, you were doing well in your online classes, and now that you were close with Baku and his friends, no one dared to bother you. Plus, they were all terrified of Sieun and his pen. After hearing the stories from Gotak, you couldn’t say you didn’t blame them.
For the school classes, everything was fine, except for mathematics, which wasn’t surprising. You were very thankful that Sieun was taking some of his time to help you study. More than once, you would found yourself staring at him instead of listening to his explanation.
He was rough around the edges at first, but once you really started to know him, it was clear that he hid a lot of what he really felt.
It felt like a small victory every time you managed to pull even the faintest smile from him. You were sure you'd seen it twice. Once for real, and once when the corner of his lips twitched like it wanted to. It was rare, fleeting… but beautiful. Seeing even a glimpse of happiness on his face—however brief felt like sunlight breaking through clouds.
There was a quiet heaviness that always clung to him, a kind of sadness that never quite left his eyes. You remembered the night he opened up—told me about his old friends and how everything fell apart. You knew he hadn’t told you everything, only the outline of it, the parts he could bear to say out loud.
Sieun didn’t open up easily, and you didn’t push him. But even from that glimpse, you could see how deeply the guilt had rooted itself in him. You wished you could take some of that weight off his shoulders. Maybe if enough people kept on reminding him that it wasn’t his fault, he might start to believe it too. Someday.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
You met up with Baku and Gotak at your usual spot near a quiet corner shop downtown. The air had a sharp bite to it, the kind that crept under your clothes and settled in your bones. The sky was a dull, steely gray, and the wind whipped through the streets, rustling the fallen leaves that hadn’t yet been swept away. The chill in the air was a clear sign that winter was closing in fast.
You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, trying to trap in whatever warmth you had left. “I hate the cold,” You mumbled, already shivering as your breath came out in faint, misty clouds.
Baku laughed. “I can warm you up if you want to.” He teased, dancing towards me like a complete fool.
“Gross! Get away from me, you big brute!” You halfheartedly exclaimed, giggling a little as you pushed him away.
“What’s going on?” A voice said behind you.
You turned quickly, the smile still lingering on your face until you saw Sieun standing there beside Juntae, his expression unreadable but eyes fixed on us. There was a flicker of something in his gaze. Confusion, maybe, or something else you couldn’t quite name. You stepped to the side a little bit, creating a circle with everyone.
Gotak shrugged. “Nothing special. Just Y/N breaking Baku’s heart again.”
Baku whipped invisible tears from his eyes. “If this goes on, I might actually start to think that you aren’t interested in me, Y/N. Stop pushing me away.”
You only hit his arm, a smile of amusement still tugging on your lips. “You’re stupid.”
Sieun suddenly coughed and adjusted his hoodie on himself. You looked at him then, but he avoided your gaze, looking to the side with a bored expression on his face.
Juntae, bless him, stepped in before things got awkward. “Does anyone want anything in the store?” He asked pulling at the fogged-up lenses of his glasses with one hand.
“No, thank you.” You declined politely, looking down. You were suppose to follow a certain diet for ballet, and you were already toeing the line with the calories you’d allowed yourself for the week. Thankfully, the food at the cafeteria had healthy versions. The real issue was back at your apartment were snacks were always within reach and boredom made them way too tempting. You were trying hard to get it under control lately. “I’ll wait here.”
“Can you bring me some shrimp crackers?” Pleaded Baku, bathing his eye lashes dramatically. “I’ll pay next time!”
Juntae nodded, a small smile on his lips as he entered the shop. “I don’t know what I want. I’ll go have a look.” Said Gotak, entering as well.
Sieun stood next the entrance of the shop. For a split second, he looked straight at you. His eyes, dark and tired, held yours for a few seconds longer than you expected. Your breath caught a little, but then he glanced over your shoulder at something—or someone—and the moment broke. Without a word, he turned and stepped into the shop after the others two.
The cold wind nipped at your face, but it wasn’t what made you shiver. You stood there, arms wrapped tightly around your body, watching the door slowly swing shut behind him.
You turned back towards Baku, who looked like he was seconds away from bursting into laughter.
“What is it now?” You asked, already dreading his answer.
“I’m just wondering if I should ask him if he’s carrying a pen with him tonight.”
You recoiled, looking confused. “What? Why would you ask him that?” Your voice rose in disbelief.
He gave a dramatic shrug, puckering his lips like he was trying to look thoughtful. “Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because he just gave me the look.”
You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, trying to preserve whatever warmth you had left. “The look? Really?” You rolled your eyes. “What does that even mean?”
Baku grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on, Y/N! You know exactly what it means. It’s that thing his eyes do when he’s trying not to lose it. Just for a second, it’s like you get a peek inside his brain. His eyes were practically screaming at me.”
You scoffed, tilting your head to the side. “Yeah? What were they saying then, oh great Eye Whisperer?”
He smacked his lips, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… I don’t know if I should tell you. It might scare you.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes again. “Just admit you’re making things up and talking out of your ass.”
He snorted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. You asked for it.” He leaned in dramatically, crouching slightly to meet your gaze. “I think our little Sieun has a big, fat crush on you and he was mentally murdering me with his eyes earlier because he was jealous.”
You stared at him, heart skipping a beat, mouth slightly open until you quickly shut it. “Stop speaking nonsense,” You muttered, shoving him hard in the shoulder. He stumbled back, unfazed, laughing so hard he had to wipe actual tears from his eyes this time.
“It’s not funny, Baku!” You exclaimed, still flustered. “You can’t say things like that.”
He calmed down a little bit. “It’s true though. I’m not lying.” He shivered, pulling his hoodie tighter. “Everyone sees it. He’s not exactly subtle, Y/N. Around you, he… speaks. That’s already saying a lot.” He wiggled his brows at you.
“He speaks to you guys as well, don’t be dramatic.” You looked away, trying to focus on the foggy shop window instead of the chaos Baku had just stirred in your chest. “You’re reading too much into things.” You muttered, but even you didn’t sound convinced.
It was true that over the past months, Sieun and you had gotten a bit closer. It just felt easy talking to him. At first, he’d simply stare blankly at you while you rambled on about your day at the academy. He wouldn’t say much…just the occasional nod as if he were barely listening. He seemed completely unapproachable, like there was some invisible wall around him that you could never quite break through. But slowly, you chipped away at it. By the end of the second month, he actually started listening. He’d sometimes ask questions, offer advice where he could. He even started helping you occasionally with mathematics after you broke down in tears over your mock exam grade.
Since then, even though he still mostly stayed quiet and distant, his presence never left you feeling completely alone. It was strange, but also comforting.
Your cheeks burned now, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Can we drop this, please?” You said as Baku was opening his mouth again. “He doesn’t treat me any different.” You spoke firmly, now too shy to meet Baku’s gaze. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he might see something in your eyes that you weren’t ready to face yet.
Before Baku could say anything, the door to the shop creaked open, and the rest of the group stepped out, carrying bags. Juntae handed Baku a bag of chips, and without missing a beat, Baku ripped it open, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. He spared you a quick look, his grin still wide. You shifted uneasily, still feeling the weight of his teasing.
“Let’s go everyone.” Called Gotak, already heading towards the karaoke room with a purposeful stride. “Let’s not stay outside longer than we should.”
The walk between the karaoke room and the store was short, but with Sieun walking silently by your side, it felt much longer. The air between you two was thick with unspoken words.
You tried to focus on the sound of Gotak and Baku’s bickering when you felt something press into your hand. Looking down, you saw Sieun offering you a piece of triangle Kimbap along with a hand warmer pouch.
He kept his gaze straight ahead, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
“Sieun,” You said softly, touched by his quiet gesture. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied nonchalantly, not meeting your eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets, maintaining his usual cool composure.
You decided to put the hand warmer in my pocket, saving it for when you would head back home . “I’ll give this back to you though.” You returned the Kimbap piece in his opened hand. “I can’t eat it.”
He stopped walking, and finally, his eyes met yours. For the first time in a while, you noticed how much better he looked. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t as prominent anymore, thanks to Juntae’s magnesium supplements. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, his expression slightly confused. “It’s the flavor you like, no? Spicy chicken?”
Always so observant.
“Yes, it is,” You replied, walking again and feeling his presence beside you. “But I can’t eat it tonight.”
“Oh.” He furrowed his brows. “Are you not feeling well? You should have said so if that’s the case. We could have rescheduled.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile, feeling suddenly uncomfortable talking about this. “It’s not that. I’m pretty sure I’ve gone over my calories for the week. I can’t eat anymore today.”
Before you could take another step, Sieun’s hand landed lightly on your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. The look on his face was incredulous, the biggest expression I’d seen from him in a long time, if ever. It was almost enough to make you laugh.
“You can’t be serious right now, Y/N.” He said, his voice low and almost… protective?
“Sieun,” You sighed, exasperated. “I’m not starving myself. Calm down. I’m just counting my calories to stay on track.” You suddenly felt a little uneasy , like you were exposing too much. “You know I’m a ballerina. It comes with the hobby.”
He only blinked. “I understand that, but a single piece of Kimbap won’t make much of a difference anyways. If your body feels hungry, you should eat. Everything is good in moderation.” He handed you back the black triangle. “Please.”
Reluctantly, you took the food and put in inside of my pocket. “You win.” You rolled your eyes, trying to act as if you didn’t care, but deep down you were touched by his concern. He was always acting so cold, but he was warm-hearted. “ I’ll eat it at the karaoke.”
Your heart felt strangely lighter now, though you still couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was the simple act of him caring, even in the smallest way. You smiled to yourself.
“What are you guys talking about?” Ahead of us, Baksu had also stopped his walk and had turned around to watch us. His eyes were sparkling with amusement and you hoped that he would keep his mouth shut.
Without responding to his question, Sieun and you both continued walking, side by side, your steps quiet as you neared the karaoke building.
Once you were close enough, Baku threw his arm around Sieun’s shoulders, pulling him close in a playful manner. He was grinning like a cat who had just found a mouse. You went ahead of them to enter the establishment, not wanting to hear the nonsense that was sure to come out of his mouth. You climbed the stairs rapidly, eager to join your other two friends and escape the awkwardness.
“So, I don’t get any of your precious Kimbap?” Baku teased in Sieun’s ear, his voice light, but with that edge of knowing exactly how to push Sieun’s buttons. “I thought we were friends, man. You’re gonna make me beg for it?”
Sieun stiffened, but only for a second. He didn’t answer, his face completely blank of emotion. He on gave a single glare as he shrugged Baku’s arms off with a slow, effortless motion.
“Don’t touch me,” he said flatly.
Only Baku could see the faintest flush spreading across Sieun’s neck.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
The triangle Kimbap was indeed delicious. You ate it in three single bites. While Juntae, Baku, and Gotak were singing their hearts out, Sieun and you were relaxing in the seats behind, content with watching. The room was dim, lit by rotating colored lights that swept across the walls in soft pulses—pink, blue, green—giving the whole place a dreamy glow. The screen was huge, displaying lyrics in bold font, while a score in the corner judged every note. You giggled at Gotak’s poor attempt at the Wonder Girls choreographer for the song “Tell Me”. His shoulders bounced like jelly, and Baku’s dramatic backup dancing wasn’t helping.
Sieun let out a quiet breath beside me. Not quite a laugh, but close. His arms were crossed, eyes half-lidded in his usual indifferent way, but you caught the subtle curve at the corner of his lips.
“You know,” You whispered, leaning a little closer, “You almost smiled just now.”
He glanced at you, and for a second, our eyes locked in the flickering lights. His expression was unreadable, but not cold. Just… careful.
“I didn’t,” he said softly.
“You did.”
He looked away, pretending to be more interested in the screen than you. “You’re imagining things.”
You giggled softly at him, eyes sparkling.
You let the silence hang for a while, watching the others collapse in laughter as Juntae hit a tragically off-key note and the karaoke machine scored him a humiliating 58. Your shoulder brushed lightly against Sieun’s, and you didn’t move away.
Neither did he.
For a long moment, you just sat there, side by side in the dim, glittering room, the noise around you fading into the background. The others were loud, off-key, ridiculous—and perfect. But here, in the stillness between songs, with the soft lights brushing his cheek and his presence warm beside you, something delicate hung in the air.
A feeling of melancholy suddenly came over you. You hadn’t felt this kind of friendship, ever. You never felt understood. Not at home. Not at school or at the academy… But here, with your friends… You had found your people.
Beside you, you felt Sieun shifted and you look over to see him already staring at you. His eyes… you could get lost in them. You cleared your throat, leaning slightly to make sure he heard over the loud music. “Are you alright?”
He nodded. “What about you? You seemed somewhere else.”
You shrugged, taking a deep breath in. “It’s nothing. I’m just being a child.” You took a sip of water.
Sieun was silent for a while. He just kept looking at you, quiet, unblinking—like you were something worth paying attention to. It made your heart beat faster
“You can tell me, if you want. I’m the least likely in this room to go around telling everybody.” He finally said, shrugging his shoulders.
A small delicate laugh escaped you, and your imagination could have fooled you into seeing a softness entering Sieun’s eyes. You looked down suddenly embarrassed.
“I was just being sappy.” You muttered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Letting out a deep breath, you finally let the words spill—the ones you’d been holding in for far too long.
“I’ve never really had friends like you guys before.” You said quietly, eyes fixed on the screen ahead. “It’s… kind of a new feeling. Being around people who don’t just tolerate me but actually enjoy having me around. It’s nice.”
You bit your lip, hesitant but too far in to stop now. “With my parents, I always have to be this perfect version of myself. The one that follows every rule, never talks back, never messes up. It's exhausting. I feel like I’m always performing for them. But here… I can actually make my own choices. I get to be me—no filter, no pretending.”
Your gaze drifted from your lap toward the others now, to Baku laughing about something with Gotak, Juntae nudging him with a bag of snacks in hand. “It’s the first time I don’t feel like I have to shrink myself just to fit in. It’s a relief not to always be worrying whether I’m too much or not enough.”
You hadn’t noticed the sting in your eyes until a tear slid down your cheek, then another. Startled, you wiped at them quickly, hoping Sieun hadn’t noticed. Your voice came out a little bit shaky, rushed. “Sorry. Told you I was being a child.”
Sieun didn’t respond right away. You expected silence—maybe one of his usual non-answers—but when you looked back at him, he was still watching. There was no judgment in his expression, no awkwardness. Just… stillness.
And his eyes.
They held so much sadness, so much depth, like the ocean. You stared too long. Long enough to forget what you had just said. Long enough to forget we were in a room filled with singing and ridiculous dancing. All you could see were those ocean eyes.
“I know that feeling,” he said at last, voice low. “Being around people, but still feeling alone.”
Your throat tightened. “It’s exhausting,” You whispered.
Sieun gave the tiniest nod. The glow from the karaoke lights painted faint purples and pink across his skin, and for a moment, you thought he looked almost unreal. His hair fell slightly into his eyes, and he didn’t bother fixing it.
He was pretty. So damn pretty.
“Do you ever feel like… no one really sees you?” You asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Sieun turned his gaze away briefly, as if the weight of the question was too much to meet head-on. Then, with the softest voice you’d ever heard from him, he said, “All the time.”
You reached over without thinking and lightly touched his sleeve. “I see you.” You said.
His eyes flicked back to mine—just a flicker—and something unreadable passed through them. Not quite surprise. Not quite disbelief. Maybe both. But underneath it, there was something tender. Shy. His lips parted like he might say something, but then Baku’s voice echoed through one of the microphones.
“Lovebirds in the back! You’re making us single people look bad!”
You jumped, pulling your hand away from Sieun’s arm like you’d been caught doing something forbidden. Heat bloomed across your face.
You were about to protest, but Sieun, for once, beat you to it. “Shut up, Baku,” he said, still calm but with a rare hint of embarrassment. His ears had gone red.
Baku only snorted. “Touchy!”
Juntae frowned between bites of leftover chips. “What did I miss? What happened.” Gotak blinked, eyes darting between Sieun and you.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and Baku seemed to suddenly have some sympathy for you.
“You didn’t miss anything.” He said to both Gotak and Juntae. “False alarm. Let’s not make it weird.”
Without any more explanation, Baku marched forward and quickly cleaned up the trash left on the table in front of Sieun and you. The former was still glaring at him.
Noticeably, Baku made sure to take Gotak’s leftover ramen along with his chopsticks.
“I’m not risking my life tonight.” He whispered to you two, but mostly to Sieun with a wink.
Baku turned back around, snickering to himself. He gave Juntae’s shoulder a playful shake, hand already reaching for his bag of chips. “Back to the important stuff—karaoke and salty junk food.”
Gotak and Juntae still looked mildly suspicious, but Baku had already grabbed a mic and queued up the next song, dramatically clearing his throat.
With a resigned shrug, they both let it go, and soon the room was full of singing and laughter again—as if nothing strange had happened at all.
When Sieun’s knee brushed yours again, you didn’t move away.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
The group was still lingering outside the karaoke building, debating whether to get late-night ramen or just call it a night. Baku, as always, was still hungry.
“I’ll be right back,” You said quietly, pulling away from the circle. “I need the restroom.”
Juntae gestured vaguely. “There’s one beside the café next street—they let us use it last time.” You nodded.
“Don’t get murdered,” Baku called after you, half-joking.
“I’ll try not to,” You muttered with a laugh.
The city was quieter now, the glow of signs reflecting off the pavement. You turned down the narrow path between the karaoke place and the café, leading to the next street. You quickly head for the door with the bathroom sign.
That’s when you heard it.
“Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you here alone.”
You froze.
That voice—it sent a ripple of nausea straight through you. Slowly, you turned.
It was him. Hyoman.
From school.
He was leaning against the wall like the world owed him something. “I heard you were into ballet.” He said, looking me up and down. “Guess that means starving yourself and hanging out with losers, huh?”
You clenched your jaw. “Leave me alone, Hyoman.”
He stepped closer, not listening. “Or what? You’ll twirl away from me?”
His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. “You act all quiet and high-and-mighty, but I know what girls like you are really like. You think you’re special. But you’re just fake.”
“Let go of me” You snapped, trying to pull back, fear creeping in.
He didn’t.
A smirk curled at his lips. “You still pretending to be all graceful and perfect?” he sneered, stepping closer. “Still playing the innocent card, huh?” Your eyes filled with tears, and panicked grounded you in place.
“You think just because you hang out with Baku, you’re safe now?” His eyes raked over you repeatedly, colder this time. “I bet under all that discipline, you’re just waiting for someone to mess you up a little. Isn’t that what you dancers want?” My throat tightened again.
“Let go of me,” You said softly, your voice trembling, breath caught in your chest. “Please.”
He leaned in, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “C’mon, just a little fun. Don’t act like you’re too good for it.”
And then, like lightning—
Sieun.
He grabbed Hyoman arm and yanked him back with so much force that the boy stumbled and hit the wall behind him with a grunt. For a moment, Hyoman looked stunned.
“She said to let go.” Sieun said. His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. It was sharp. Direct. Steady in a way that made the hair on your arms rise.
Hyoman pushed off the wall, sneering. He stumbled a little bit, and you suspected that it wasn’t just because of the alcohol. “What, you gonna fight me? You’re just some freak who never talks. You think being quiet makes you scary?”
Sieun stepped forward without hesitation and shoved him again—harder this time. “Try touching her again,” he said, “and I swear I won’t just push you.”
Sieun’s eyes burned with something raw. Not anger, exactly. Something more dangerous..
Hyoman backed off, scowling. “You’re both crazy,” he muttered, spitting to the side before stalking away.
The silence he left behind felt suffocating.
You stood frozen, staring at Sieun. Your chest was still tight, adrenaline spiking through you.
He was breathing heavily. The fury slipped from his face when he saw your face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, stepping closer.
You nodded, but it was a lie. The moment you met his eyes—soft now, worried—you cracked.
“No.” You whispered.
He didn’t hesitate.
Sieun stepped forward and pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you like it was the most natural thing in the world. He held you—not too tight, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.
And you broke.
The tears came fast. Hot, angry sobs that you couldn’t hold back any longer. You clutched his hoodie in your fists and buried your face against his chest. You couldn’t stop shaking.
Sieun didn’t say anything. He just stood there, solid and quiet, letting you fall apart in his arms. For someone who rarely showed emotion, he held you like he’d done it a hundred times. You melted into his warmth.
That was when you heard footsteps.
“Y/N?” Baku’s voice called, too cheerful at first, until it dropped with concern. “Y/N, what happened?!”
The rest of the group came into view, Juntae and Gotak behind Baku, who stopped mid-step when he saw you in Sieun’s arms.
Gotak blinked. “What the hell…?”
Juntae looked concerned. “Wait, is she crying?”
Baku’s eyes narrowed as he looked around. “What happened, Sieun?”
Sieun didn’t move. He kept holding you, shielding you with his body from the boys’ growing panic. You didn’t lift my head, not yet. You didn’t want them to see you like this.
“She’s okay now,” Sieun said, voice flat but firm. “Someone crossed a line. It’s handled.”
The others were still trying to piece together what had happened, but something in Sieun’s tone, something cold and sharper than they were used to, shut them up.
Baku muttered under his breath, something about looking for whoever did it. But he didn’t press further.
Sieun’s arms didn’t move until your breathing calmed. And even then, he didn’t let go until you gently pulled back, cheeks still damp.
There was no judgement on his face when you backed away.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
The walk back to the karaoke room was quiet.
No one asked questions. Not even Baku, who usually couldn’t stay silent if his life depended on it.
Sieun didn’t speak.
He just stood beside you in the quiet night air, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable as always—but there was a tension in his posture, like he was still on edge.
“I think I’ll go home,” You said finally, voice hoarse from crying.
Sieun looked at you, then gave a small nod. “I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know.”
But he came anyway.
The city lights flickered around us as we walked. The only sounds were the occasional passing car and the soft rhythm of our footsteps. You kept your eyes on the ground, the cool breeze brushing against your cheeks, hand warmer between your palm. You didn’t feel like talking, and Sieun didn’t push you to.
Halfway home, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His shoulders were slightly hunched, like he was carrying something heavy.
“I’m sorry,” You murmured.
He looked at you, confused. “For what?”
“For ruining the night.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, tone even. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” Wind ruffled through his hair.
“I was scared,” You admitted after a while. “Not just in the moment. Scared he wouldn’t go away. Scared no one would come.”
You let out a quiet breath, the words catching on the edge of your hesitation before you finally spoke. “I know you were scared too. But you still stepped in. You chose to protect me.” Sieun didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at you directly—but something in him shifted.
His expression remained unreadable, but his shoulders eased, just slightly, like some invisible weight had loosened its grip. “Thank you,” you said, gently.
There was a pause.
Then, barely above a whisper, Sieun said, “I’ll always protect my friends. No matter what.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn’t the kind that made you feel alone.
When you reached your door, you turned to him and gave a small smile. “Thank you… for everything.”
Sieun stared for a second too long. Then, awkwardly, he nodded, eyes flicking away.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
And before you could step inside, he added—barely above a whisper, “Text me when you’re safe in bed.”
You blinked. “You want me to text you?”
He rubbed his neck, trying to look nonchalant. “I just… want to know you’re okay. That’s all.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile softly.
“Okay”
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
That night, you kept my promise and texted him.
[10:42 PM] In bed. Safe.
There was a long pause before his reply came.
[10:47 PM] Okay. Sleep well.
Simple. Distant. But it made you smile anyway.
You curled under the blanket, still feeling the ghost of his arms around you, the way he had pulled you close without hesitation. It stayed with you long after you closed your eyes.
You dreamt of him.
Of Sieun.
Not the quiet, cold version of him the world knew. But the one you saw tonight—the one whose eyes burned when he saw you hurt, whose voice sharpened when he defended you, whose hands didn’t shake when he held you.
In the dream, we were alone again. But it was warmer somehow. Softer.
You stood beneath a streetlight, the city blurred around you. He stepped close—too close—and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just slightly against your skin, and his eyes… they were locked on mine like I was the only thing that existed.
And then—his hand slid gently to your jaw. His thumb brushed your cheek.
He leaned in.
His breath touched yours.
And just before your lips met, you—
Woke up.
Your eyes snapped open. The room was dark and quiet, the covers twisted around your legs. Your skin felt hot and sticky.
You sat up slowly, pressing your hands to your cheek.
It had been so vivid.
Too vivid.
You groaned quietly and flopped back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
What was wrong with you?
It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just—
But the image of his eyes, the sound of his voice, the way he held you like you were something precious… You pressed your palms against your eyelids. You knew, no matter how hard you tried, you weren’t going to forget it anytime soon.
You were screwed.
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yokelfelonking · 2 years ago
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Post 9/11 Trivia
Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:
There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)
On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.
People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.
As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.
Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"
People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.
"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)
People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.
On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.
Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)
EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.
Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)
And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"
Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"
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labs · 2 years ago
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Another idea: Communities on Tumblr
For a while now folks have asked us for better ways to connect with other people who share similar interests. We’re listening, and at Labs we’ve been looking into fulfilling that need, Tumblr style.
Introducing Communities, a new place to connect with others on Tumblr:
Tumblr media
Here in Labs, we’re working on big ideas that could transform how Tumblr is used, while keeping that Tumblr vibe alive. You can see one of those ideas above. We’re calling it “Communities”, a new dedicated space on Tumblr for people to share and discuss all the content they love. Communities can cover topics like your favorite show, artist, movie, video game, your school, your board game group, friend group, big or small, whatever you want.
Each Community has their own semi-private safer space away from the regular dashboard where you can interact with other Tumblr users who share the same interests and passions as you. There are moderators and members (you!), rules, and privacy settings. Each community has its own feed of posts from members, separate from your Following and For You feeds. Interactions within community spaces stay there and replies will work more like a traditional comment section. Folks will be able to reblog posts into a community, but not out — at least not yet.
We’re very excited for you to try it, and help define the best path forward. What we have is a prototype to help us validate the idea, but there’s still plenty of questions that need answering. Over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be reaching out to people across Tumblr, and the internet at large, to try our prototype. Based on the feedback we get, we’ll iterate on the idea to see what resonates best with all of you on Tumblr.
If this sounds interesting, please like, reblog, or reply to this post, and we’ll invite you to beta test this feature when we roll it out to a wider Tumblr audience, as a little perk for following the Labs blog.
Stay tuned for more!
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timmydraker · 5 months ago
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The Drake family has existed for a long time, originating from England and being proud doctors in the New World that was the America.
They were responsible for saving many of the soldiers in the war for their choice to be independent to be made true, even being responsible for training medics that saved Washington.
So naturally, with such an extensive (and possibly exaggerated) history filled with respectable and admirable people, they had rules to follow. The rules were meant to show respect for their heritage, for the way they helped push so much medical research and most importantly, reputation.
The Drake Family Rules had existed for over a hundred years. The original book made for young Drake’s and introduced family members was kept safe within a glass case in the centre of the Drake Mansion.
It started with 32 rules, though naturally more were added over time.
When Tim was born there was 122, and as he began to learn to read through the words of the much more modern looking book, his mother swapped it out six times as she added more books. As the one who originally had the Drake name, only she could, though Jack could make suggestions. By the time he was eight there was 173.
Tim had known these rules his whole life and sees them the same way the pervade civilian sees laws.
Maybe even more so.
Some of the rules were obvious and made a lot of sense, such as Rule 5: ‘A Drake should never dishonour his or her’s spouse in any manner’ or Rule 27: ‘A Drake does not gamble away his or hers own money’.
But then there were some out dated ones like Rule 15: ‘A Drake should never been seen wearing a broken pocket watch, for this shows a lack of care to the time of others’ and Rule 11: ‘A Drake should accept the cane from a teacher with grace and decorum’.
Or the more entitled ones like Rule 26: ‘A Drake does not do the washing, that is the maids duty’ and the worst one as far as Tim was concerned, Rule 5: ‘A Drake does not fornicate with anyone of varying skin tones or the common folk’.
Then the bazar one’s…
Rule 112: ‘A Drake should not be seen in public past 11 PM’.
Rule 78: ‘A Drake does not drink out of anything that is not made of glass’.
Rule 102: ‘A Drake must keep a coin inside his or hers shoe when leaving home’.
And Tim’s favourite, Rule 98: ‘A Drake must not die of sickness lest this affect the trust of the public’.
A lot were about health, like Rule 3: ‘A Drake must study the science of medicine no matter his or hers biology’ . Some were about dedication to making a healthy society while others were just about committing to the family business.
Tim didn’t mind these rules all that much and only really learnt them because it was expected of him. He didn’t think all of them were necessary, a fair few due to the time period, but it didn’t really hurt for him to learn them all and keep them up.
Tim still kept a coin inside his shoe after all, because while it was super weird, it didn’t hurt.
He was sure if Bruce knew about The Drake Family Rules and how well Tim follows them he would be furious at the evidence that Tim can do what he’s told, he just doesn’t want to.
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astrofaeology · 12 days ago
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Astrology Observations #1 ૮ . . ྀིა⁩
paid readings | Masterlist
��𐭩 Please support me by reposting, liking, following me. Hey guys, I haven't posted much content this week because I've been trying to complete my commissions aswell as I have been studying.
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જ⁀➴ As always, these are simply my observations and opinions - they are not facts. Take what resonates and leave the rest.
ᡣ𐭩 Cancer venus (especially in the 2nd -> 7th houses), may idealise romance and the idea of marriage.
ᡣ𐭩 Gemini risings have this quirky style to their fashion, they can't go without the little fun details of bows and accessorize.
ᡣ𐭩 8th house moons conjunct mars (especially when in a water sign) are prone to psychic dreams.
ᡣ𐭩Taurus Venus' are properly devoted to a cause and they will bet their life on the life to stick by it.
ᡣ𐭩 Pisces moons and the phrase 'i'll do it my own way'. They tend to follow the beat to their own drum and bend the curve.
ᡣ𐭩 If a cancer mars is talking smack about you, confront them head on. Most likely they'll try to advoid the subject or stutter (depends on their moon sign though).
ᡣ𐭩 People with lilith on the ascendant/midheaven axis, may be out casted for circumstances they didn't do. They always seemed to be villained/prone to be idenitfyed as the 'mistress'.
ᡣ𐭩 Pisces Mars may be called dramatic and too much by others - their sensitivity may been seen as a weakness.
ᡣ𐭩Aquarius and cancer energy together can very much manifest in work as someone putting more effort than needed and undercharging, especially in the case of helping others.
Exp: Ziggy Astrology on tiktok, is open about how she charges resonable amounts and yet still has people who take advantage of her kindness.
ᡣ𐭩 Libra mercury's tend to struggle in gossip sessions ,when they clearly don't know the whole picture. They don't want to offend anyone.
ᡣ𐭩 Taurus mars in the 6th house can manifest as someone who is very slow to get work done - these people do not want to work at all.
ᡣ𐭩 Leo Mercuries have this sort of bravado to them when they talk, if aspected by jupiter they may naturally be very loud.
ᡣ𐭩 Aries placements naturally tend towards doing sports and have an naturally athethletic disposition.
ᡣ𐭩 12th house moons conjunct ascendant may have shared a bed with their mother.
ᡣ𐭩Leo's naturally have a golden aura to them and people may naturally think that they're naturally blonde when they're not
Blake Lively and Beyonce both have prominant leo placments and blonde looks so good on them.
ᡣ𐭩 Leo-Aquarius axis rules cults and group captivation, these natives often build communities who uplift them yet try to lead/be the main character them, even though what they're doing is 'revolutionary'.
Exp: Joe Exotic (leo mars rx opposing aqaurius venus), Piper Rockelle (leo stellium opposing aqaurius neptune rx)
ᡣ𐭩 People with planets conjunct the south node may very much become spiritual, as there is a lack of attachment. On the other hand they can be quite blunt.
ᡣ𐭩 Personally in my opinion aquarius moons aren't 'nonchalant' but rather quite logical. They care for the community, and are quite friendly.
ᡣ𐭩 Men with major taurus placements often do mention their sisters/mothers/daughters - sometimes even at first meeting. They're naturally very close with women and are comfortable with them.
ᡣ𐭩 Libra placements normally withold their own opinions and thoughts on matters, untill they get a full scope of the picture. This can be hard, especially if you would perfer honesty than surface level flattery.
ᡣ𐭩Libra mercuries do stuggle with condemning others, and if they do think that there may be potentially be someone innocent they will be like.. wait what.
ᡣ𐭩 Libra venus men do give their hearts out to their partners and will honestly shift their life for them. The level of organisation and dedication from them is honestly so cute.
ᡣ𐭩 The moon represents home-life and if conjunct the malefics this could mean that you grew up in a isolated and confusing home.
ᡣ𐭩 Neptune trine mercury natives can honestly get away with alot since people don't usually suspect them and somehow never embarrass themselves.
ᡣ𐭩 Virgo placements especially when there's an opposition to pisces, can really become almost a different person one to one compared to when interacting in a group.
ᡣ𐭩 The smartest and the most disciplined people I know have Capricorn, scorpio degrees on their mars. Even if their mars is afflicted or in fall/deteriment the energy of the degree pulls them in.
ᡣ𐭩 Natives with 18 degrees pretty much anywhere in the chart do have a professional tone to their voice and are very articulate. As well as that to an extent they do have a weak consitution.
ᡣ𐭩 Taurus moon is exulated because they geuinely don't give two f*cks. (unless aspected to scorpio)
ᡣ𐭩 Moon conjunct jupiter in the 12th house can be a real point of inner strength for a native, being that their mother could have at some points tested their strength.
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DISCLAIMER: This post is a generalisation and may not resonate. I recommend you get a reading from an astrologer (me). If you want a reading from me check out my sales page.
@astrofaeology private services 2025 all rights reserved
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hwnglx · 7 months ago
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pick a pile - you in your own eyes vs. you in your fs' eyes
welcome lovely reader! let's take a peak into how you view yourself, compared to how your future lover will view you. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪
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°❀⋆.pile 1ೃ࿔*:・
you in your own eyes
you see yourself as someone who isn't very easily impressed or satisfied. you might struggle with chronic pessimism and seeing the brighter side of things sometimes and seem aware of it. you are manifesting a better life for yourself.
you might lack substantial belief and trust in yourself to do well, and see yourself as someone who's more of capable of hoping and wishful thinking, rather than courageously taking the initiative and acting on your desires.
you believe you don't have the needed tools to follow your dreams just yet (financially, mentally or in terms of maturity) you also might be afraid of change; this could result in a habit of just staying in your comfort zone in the end.
you might see yourself as someone who's still too immature and inexperienced. not sure why this came through, but some of you might even think that you just aren't overly smart. (spirit is telling me you're wrong!) you might feel like a late bloomer who's been a little stagnant in their life or slower in your growth compared to others. a lot of comparing yourself to other people here.
i heard “dreamer with a heavy heart” from the song cruel world by faye. perhaps you could connect to that song; it talks about feeling like the world just challenges you continuously, but the dreamer inside of you remaining alive despite the hurt.
you might think that you're quite alone in this world. someone who's just used to being on your own, doing things on your own. you see yourself as a person who tries lighting their own path instead of relying on anyone else.
you see yourself as someone who's constantly wishing to learn from the things that life throws at you, and turning every life lesson into something that helps you grow.
you might experience fomo sometimes; fear of missing out.
it does seem as if you're still trying your best to hold on to this glimmer of hope within you.. you're aware that you're someone who could make it happen, if only they took a leap of faith.
you're very humble, dedicated and eager to learn at heart, so deep down you acknowledge that the potential and desire is there. you just aren't sure how to translate it into reality.
i think you're in the midst of slowly healing from negative experiences, which have had a profound impact on you. you're trying to practice self-forgiveness and letting go of the past, but still might struggle with self-doubts and insecurities.
you in your fs' eyes
your fs will see you as someone resilient with a strong personality, who's had to endure a lot of challenges and conquer many obstacles in their life. this gave you thick skin.
they might look at you as a person who wasn't as easy to get to, because you do have your walls up at first, and people need to prove themselves to you before they can get past them. they look at you as someone who's protective of their own space, and doesn't allow people to access them as easily.
their first impression might consist of seeing you in snappy defensive mode, where you had to stand up for yourself.
they'll think that you're someone independent who challenges the status quo; focused on first and foremost, going after what you set yourself up to, unafraid to stand out and be different. a person who's more interested in following their own rules, instead of joining the crowd or blending in.
your fs looks at you as a person who's determined to build their own financial stability and independence before relying on anyone else to do it.
which is interesting, because i do think this person could be relatively well off and wanting to provide you, but you don't seem very interested in basking in anyone else's money.
they could see you as marriage material quite quickly and think about building a future together, but soon after might realize you're not someone eager to jump into a commitment as such, if you don't feel secure in yourself first.
this has the potential to humble them quite a bit, and awaken the realization that you're someone more self-sufficient; and if anyone feels the desire to be with you, they gotta remain patient and consistent in their efforts.
you seem like a person who can make people work for your attention in order to understand the value of it, which your fs is likely to take notice of and feel even more intrigued by.
it's possible your fs isn't really used to people playing hard to get with them, which is why you might stand out a lot.
°❀⋆.pile 2ೃ࿔*:・
you in your own eyes
you see yourself as artistic, creative, passionate and warm.
you might believe that you're the type of person who's quite sure of what they want in material or financial terms, ready to realize your ambitions and goals in a bold manner; but with a soft spot when it comes to their emotional world.
like you usually have a strong character, but some sappy little things might still get you all sensitive, teary-eyed and emotional. some of you might be a little embarrassed about this too. (don't be, it's very endearing)
i feel like some of you might have fire suns with water moons
you might see yourself as a dreamy person, who's in love with the concept and idea of being in love. someone who often finds themselves seeking romance and everything it entails.
you look at yourself as a person who tries to find beauty in everything they do; just loving to romanticise life and its little things. you might love and identify a lot with art, music, etc.
at the same time, you seem to be aware of how you definitely are not as easy as you appear to be, and for sure find yourself cautious of people trying to take advantage of you.
like i see you as a person who can be willingly delusional sometimes just to beautify life a little bit, but absolutely not as a person who's easily fooled or played with.
it's almost like the more people get to know you, the easier it is for them to spot your more sensitive and soft side. the rest might see more of your more fiery and strong sides, since that's usually how you present yourself to the outside.
it seems like as time went on, you've learnt to be more wary of people's motives and intentions, and understood the importance of cultivating clear boundaries in terms of how closely you connect to others, and how much you let them in.
you can have your outgoing and social moments, but it's likely you've become good at keeping a healthy inner distance to a lot of people you're surrounded by; almost like making them believe they're your friend, when in your eyes they're not really.
you also might see yourself as someone who's not afraid to fight when necessary; a person who will not allow others to step all over them. you'll step over them twice as hard.
i see a lot of this inner fierceness inside of you coming from potential trust issues; not always feeling like everyone has your best interests at heart. you might have been betrayed a few times, which has taught you to be more cautious, and just keeping certain, more personal things to yourself.
you in your fs' eyes
your fs sees you as a vibrant and charismatic person, who has this very radiant and captivating presence to them.
they might feel like the world stops whenever they look at you; you make everyone and everything else feel less important.
their first impression is likely to consist of you being this attractive, charming and confident person, who has an inspiring and intriguing effect on them.
similarly to pile 3, they're likely to look at you as a person who's quite different to them in a variety of ways; whether that's your ethnicity, culture, views, beliefs, lifestyle, upbringing.
your fs sees in you, someone who can pull this spark of energy and motivation out of situations others would feel sad about.
like the type of person who's just eager to gets the spirits up if the mood ever gets too gloomy and negative.
they look at you as a bright and powerful person, who doesn't like dwelling on the past and isn't easily beat down by their losses, but on the contrary, sees them as an opportunity for a new and potentially even better start.
example, they might watch you go through a break up and wonder how much it'd affect you emotionally, just for you to get back up and appear as confident and vibrant as ever.
you're giving a person who has the best break-up glow ups.
like you wanna prove to whoever lost out on you, that it in no way is your loss, but definitely is theirs. it's giving princess diana black revenge dress.
as the connection progresses, it's likely for your fs to see you more and more as someone they'd want to settle down and start a family with.
for my girls out there; your fs might quite literally, want you to be the mother of their children. they're likely to look at you as someone who has great potential to be a mother, because you're so multi-facetted and wellrounded.
in your fs eyes', not only are you a strong, independent and self-sufficient character who's capable of confidently taking charge of situations, but you're also immensely nurturing, caring and kind towards the people dearest to you.
they think that you hold a lot of empathy and genuine love for the special people in your life, and have this natural ability to make them feel understood, and taken care of.
i thought of this moment when justin bieber talked about seeing hailey bieber with a baby and thinking “she is the one.”
also, this keeps coming through; they just think you're beautiful. like.. so so pretty. they might stare at you a lot.
“i could look at you all day and never get sick of the sight.”
°❀⋆.pile 3ೃ࿔*:・
you in your own eyes
you see yourself as a bit of a lone-wolf, someone who doesn't feel understood by many people, and doesn't really feel like they always fit into too many places.
a person who's in continuous search of their true belonging, and their spot where they feel safe and comfortable.
you think of yourself as a deep, reflective and introspective person who seeks profound understanding of yourself and life. you might be aware of how you need alone-time, as well as times of peace and quiet to recharge.
you long to find your own identity and true purpose, outside of what other people want or expect from you.
some of you might even feel the desire to move overseas in hopes that the change of environment could help you step into your power and strength more. there's some feelings of.. feeling like you're not where you should be, and believing that your current environment doesn't serve you. this isn't where you see your best self thriving and blossoming.
some of you might be using your spirituality to manifest a better life, and spend a lot of time on the internet trying to find guidance and ways to manifest your dream life.
you simply do not see yourself as a person, who's okay with just allowing others to take control of what you do, or your life.
you see yourself as a very driven person, who once they set their mind to something, absolutely have to get it done. like tunnel vision, this is what i want and nothing else.
while at the same time, you usually aren't someone who acts on a completely impulsive whim; you try your best to make all your decisions based on logic and reason.
you might recognize yourself as being a fairminded person, who's eager to balance your focus on your goals and your strong determination, with the importance to remain responsible and just in the way you get there.
there might be a struggle in you, between following the path you deem as best for yourself, while also making sure the people around you don't have to suffer because of it.
this dilemma between serving yourself, and serving others.
the dilemma between standing out, and fitting in.
you're strong, pile 3.. i know the road here wasn't easy, but you're persevering and doing an absolutely applaudable job.
you in your fs' eyes
your fs will view you as someone who's quite different to them. a person who's like a breath of fresh air.
they might notice that you hold beliefs different to them, proceed with things differently or approach certain situations differently, and therefore intrigue them majorly.
they'll look at you as a person who can transform them. someone who has the potential to change their life in a significant and impactful manner.
they also could see you as someone quite unpredictable, who always brings something new and fresh to the table.
your fs could be someone with masculine energy, potential earth sign. they're someone who's work-oriented, mature, possibly older than you in age, good with money and has a strong sense of responsibility.
they will see you as a person who's much more in tune with their emotions than them, and has this beautiful sense of empathy, and compassion for the people around them.
a loving person who supports others in a gentle and caring manner, and has a comforting and warm effect on them.
they will like how you bring this new sense of affection into their environment.
you could help them steer their gaze away from work work work, and make them believe in the beauty of love again.
like this person will literally have their fantasies awakened because of you. you will make them believe that soulmates are real, and that they finally found their person in you.
the puzzle piece they didn't know was missing in their lives.
it's almost like “how am i so attracted to pile 3.. when they're so different to me?” you'll quite literally have them wrapped around your finger.
this person might be someone who's usually quite stubborn and stuck in their ways, but something about your unique existence will change that; they'll want to understand someone else's opinions for a change.
they'll truly feel this desire to put themselves into your shoes and look at things from your point of view. you might quite literally teach them what empathy means.
both of you give the vibe of someone more independent, but are likely to change that for each other.
like you will make your fs want to be alone together with someone; that person will be you. and vice versa.
you'll find home in each other.
oh i could go on & on about this pile, the energy is so sweet
even as i started shuffling, i already began going into full on dreamy lovey-dovey 🥰 mode
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liuhsng · 1 month ago
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───〃⋆⭒˚.⋆ UNTOUCHABLE MASTERLIST
⤷ nsfw content ahead, minors do not interact.
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seven pureblooded alphas. bound by legacy and power. in a world where instincts rule and bonds can break you, each one has a story—of control, resistance, obsession.
⤷ taglist — closed ⤷ appreciation post ⤷ warnings — omegaverse au, this series contains mature themes, smut (some), toxic dynamics, and angst | to be read in order : jungwon, heeseung, sunoo, sunghoon, jake, jay, and ni-ki ⤷ a/n — some parts of this series are still under editing and proofreading, please be patient with updates and revisions. i want to give you the best version of every story <3
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✩ˎˊ˗ how to claim an omega ( yjw ! )
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⤷ read here
⤷ pairing — jungwon x fem!reader
⤷ summary — yang jungwon has always been the definition of the word “perfect,” almost around him almost praise and kiss the ground he walks on. even when it came to girls, various omegas practically throw themselves at the pureblooded alpha, but the oh-so perfect yang jungwon never pays them any mind because he already has his eyes set on a certain timid omega who has been trying her best to avoid him at all costs. and he won't stop until he gets what wants, in that case? you. or where it only took jungwon three years and three chances to finally get you.
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✩ˎˊ˗ bottom of the chain ( lhs ! )
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⤷ read here
⤷ pairing — heeseung x fem!reader
⤷ summary — he was unapproachable, everyone knew that he was one of the people on top of the throne and a person to be looked up upon because of the various talents that he possessed, and it was practically a hidden rule that lee heeseung's omega shouldn't be messed with as much as him. but some others still forget their lowly positions and cross the line. his only instinct? remind those bastards of their lowly statuses in the food chain.
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✩ˎˊ˗ breaking point ( ksn ! )
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⤷ read here
⤷ pairing — sunoo x fem!reader
⤷ summary — being sunghoon’s younger sister by a year, it was clear to everyone that you were off-limits. sunghoon’s overprotectiveness made it impossible for anyone to forget that, especially sunoo, his best friend. the pink haired alpha, who always saw you as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister. he wasn’t looking for an omega or a mate, and that was that. but when things get heated between the both of you, he had no choice but to confront the feelings he always had for his best friend's younger sister that he couldn't deny anymore.
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✩ˎˊ˗ when fate calls ( psh ! )
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⤷ read here
⤷ pairing — sunghoon x fem!reader
⤷ summary — as the eldest son of a powerful family, park sunghoon has always followed tradition, dedicating himself to his responsibilities. relationships never crossed his mind, his focus was on the life carefully planned for him. but then there was you, someone he had seen countless times yet never truly noticed until now. when realization dawned on him that you were his mate, it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. the unexpeced idea of love terrified him, so he rejected the traditional courting that came with claiming an omega. but as his avoidance hurts you, the high and mighty alpha is forced to confront the truth he’s been running from: some things aren’t meant to be planned.
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✩ˎˊ˗ between the shelves ( sjy ! )
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⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader
⤷ summary — as the only son of a prestigious family and the student council secretary, sim jaeyun—or as his friends like to call him: jake has always been at the top. admired, respected, and burdened by responsibility. he’s used to handling everything himself, ensuring perfection in all that he does. and then there was you, someone he had always seen but never had the chance to approach, until fate handed him the opportunity. hiding from relentless admirers, he found himself in the library, where, to his surprise, you weren’t just another passing face. jake has always adored the idea of having a mate, but he never rushed fate, until you. before he knows it, meetings no longer hold his full attention, tasks he once insisted on doing himself are left to others, all so he can be near you.
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✩ˎˊ˗ no-fly zone ( pjs ! )
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⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ pairing — jay x fem!reader
⤷ summary — park jongseong—better known as jay, had everything: wealth, power, and a name that carried undeniable influence. a pureblooded alpha and the only son of a family that dominated the aviation industry, he was sharp enough to take over the business and reckless enough to make the upper-ups lose patience. despite his position as student council treasurer, his reputation preceded him: missed deadlines, flawless grades, and a habit of picking the wrong fights. their solution? a tutor. a glorified babysitter. and, of course, it had to be you. an omega with a spotless record, a name as weighty as his own, and an infuriating presence that had always stood in his way. your families worked together, but you and jay never had. now, forced into each other’s space, the line between rivalry and something far more dangerous begins to blur.
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✩ˎˊ˗ always been yours ( nk ! )
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⤷ part 1 | part 2
⤷ pairing — ni-ki x fem!reader
⤷ summary — nishimura riki has never been good at sharing. not his things, not his time—and definitely not you. his childhood best friend, his first love, the one person he thought would always be by his side, and the one person who left without warning five years ago. now, out of nowhere, you’re back. still familiar, still his, and suddenly surrounded by alphas who don’t know where they stand. ni-ki isn’t the type to say how he feels. but he’s also not the type to sit back and watch someone else try to take what’s his. especially not when everyone already knows who you belong to.
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taglist: @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world @notcamii @yizhoutv @lovesickth @elairah @graythecoffeebean @skyearby @ikeumina @blckorchidd @littlebambi-isdee @immelissaaa @jakesfurry @dreamy-carat @cristy-101 @m1kkso @h4niyahcar @firstclassjaylee @skyearby @hello0i @koizekomi @deluluscenarios @hooniehon @heelovesmeknot @petalsofink @sjyuns @jaerisdiction @baedreamverse @notcamii @nishiinightz @kissesfromdarling
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© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don’t hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !
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